Page 43 of Counting the Days

“Thirty-eight years…and ninety-four days.”

A strapping young bachelor and an advanced-maternal-age hag sipped their tea.

“And no, marriage doesn’t scare me. I’m all for the idea of marriage, but I refuse to settle for an unhealthy one. That and the, uh, not-wanting-kids thing has…ended some of my more serious relationships.” That same thick sadness showed up in his voice and he cleared his throat.

They silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting it to lead them apart again. They refilled their mugs several times and talked for hours. Neither of them wanted to bring the night to an end, knowing the workshop concluded tomorrow afternoon. Summer camp was winding down; this weekend would be the last time they got to be near each other.

Eventually, the kitchen staff entered the Lodge with sleepy eyes. They nodded hello to Rhea and Danny and started prepping breakfast for hundreds of hungry people; nothing got the appetite going like soaking naked with strangers.

“What time is it?” Rhea wondered.

They looked behind the couch at a clock on the wall. It was five in the morning.

“Wow.”

“I had no idea.”

They each waited for the other to say the inevitable.

“I guess we should go try to get a little sleep before our last day,” Rhea said.

“Yeah…”

They put their shoes back on and left their empty mugs in a plastic basin. They walked to the door and observed the pouring rain. Without hesitation, Danny took off his hoodie.

“You’re wearing this, don’t say no.”

Rhea found herself eagerly accepting, not to protect her hair from the rain, but to be enveloped in the smell of him, to have a part of him wrapped around her body.

“Thank you.” She pulled the hood up over her head.

In the past, when a man offered her his jacket, it made her feel like he thought she was a fragile doll, far too delicate to withstand the elements. But when Danny did it, she felt cared for, like he would rather be uncomfortable than watch her be uncomfortable. She wondered if chivalry was all about intention; did theysee her as weak and helpless or did they want to take care of her because she was precious?

The hoodie smelled like firewood and something indescribable, a salty, sweet essence that was purely Danny’s. A scent she feared she would never get a chance to experience again after she gave the hoodie back. The thought of not getting to breathe him in again was excruciating.

“Ready?” he asked, and she nodded.

They ran through the rain, laughing at the intensity of the downpour. Rhea had not run through rain in years, not since Florida. She wanted to freeze time and forever run through the rain with Danny next to her, his scent wrapped around her. They reached his room; he entered and grabbed her suitcase while she waited on the covered porch.

“Lead the way,” he said, still holding her suitcase.

“No, that’s okay, you stay here, I can manage—”

“Rhea…”

“No, you’re soaked. Go inside and warm up—I got this, seriously.”

Danny stepped out into the rain with her suitcase.

“I’m just gonna have to guess then,” he said as he walked down the dirt path.

She ran after him. “You’re going the wrong way!”

He switched directions and she led him to her room, past the garden and the saltwater pool and over the bridge. In Rhea’s open doorway, he put her suitcase down. He was dripping wet, wiping water off his face.

“Thank you. You really are a gentleman.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t make it easy.”