Even under two blankets, Jimmy lay in bed shivering. “It had to be the coldest night of the year?” he complained.
“For the perfect mountain wedding, I guess so,” Amy cooed her reply. “What did you expect up here?”
“Heat. I expected heat.” He rubbed his hands above his chest and faced the ceiling as he ranted. “I also didn’t expect to have a fully dressed bride on my wedding night.” Under the covers he reached and pinched.
She squealed a pleased reply “I don’t care how grumpy you are.” She curled herself under his arm and over his chest, “I’m happy. So there.”
Jimmy smiled. “Serves you right, you fool.” His fingers softly glided over her head and to her back, he rubbed between his fingers the ribbons that streamed from her pink shawl.
“Who is the bigger fool?” she chided, in her best Alec Guiness, Obi-Wan Kanobi voice.
“Touché’, my sexy Jedi.” He turned and raised her chin up to his face. “I’ll admit, something about this place does make your eyes sparkle.” They shared a kiss. “Oh wait, it’s probably a frost settling under your skin.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch…” She sighed and leaned back. A bedside candle lit the cabin’s small bedroom. Outside the moon reflected on the mountainside, silvery and bright. “It was a perfectly enchanted day. A soft snow. A kind pastor. A quiet dinner. How did you do it?”
“Luck.” He held onto his disappointment in the cabin, despite her optimistic mood. It needed to be cozier, safer. Truly, his shivers weren’t from the cold, but from fear of what was to come. She faced the future without a shudder. He folded the blankets over her and stood up. “How ‘bout some dessert?”
“Mm,” She curled under the weight.
“And, perhaps I can find another blanket in this lousy cabin,” he said.
The small and simple ceremony took place earlier that afternoon. Jimmy found a progressive pastor who agreed to delete the bits about obey, the mention of death, and to keep it short. Amy stood in a long coat of white fur with her mother holding her arm beside her. Her mother also held the bouquet, which left no free hand to wipe the tears that ran steadily down her cheeks throughout the whole ceremony. Jimmy held Amy’s other arm and they stood below the canopy of the evergreen forest.
They arrived at the cabin after the sunset, tired, happy and with no cell phone coverage. But tomorrow, he would take them back into the valley, somewhere where they could get a hot breakfast and fix this arrangement. No more shivering. He grumbled to himself. She refused a proper hotel because it reminded her of the hospital. She wanted a simple, secluded cabin.
She heard the opening of cupboards and closets, his random grumbling, a few curse words and then an “Aha!” She laid still. He returned with a new blanket, placed it over her, then tucked it around her body like a cocoon. “I’ll be right back.”
He reentered with a “Ta-dah!” She recognized that bright and proud glimmer. She loved the shine in his eyes at each accomplishment, big or small, over these last twenty years. He beamed to her when he won the sixth grade crazy hat contest, when he made the high school debate team, with each job promotion, and now…when he held a small tray with white cake and a steaming cup. “Hot Chocolate…” he sang and she giggled.
Still, he saw the fatigue winning out, and she closed her eyes. Jimmy sat at the bed’s edge and sipped from the cup. He set it on the nightstand and leaned over her, swirled his fingers over the soft tender skin of her head then covered it with the cotton shawl her grandmother made for their special day. “Thank you for loving me,” she whispered, maybe half awake, maybe asleep.
This is what she wanted, and what wasn’t perfect didn’t bother her. But it bothered him. Funny, she worried less in these last months about what went wrong or could go wrong, she took the best from every day. He worried more. He needed her to be happy, to be comfortable, to be…well. He needed her to be well. But they were past that now.
When he announced he was leaving the plains and taking her to the mountains, there were those who offered hope, with the best of intentions, “Maybe the mountain air will…” Jimmy always replied with a small nod. “Maybe.”
It was a lifetime ago when they sat on the branch, panting from the tree climbing race. They sat side by side and watched the day end over the field’s long rows. The orange glow lingered while the sun burned into the horizon. “This is the place to live, Jimmy,” she said. “But the mountains, their peaks touching heaven, that’s where I’ll go to die.”
So it came a few months ago, the promise to her she would be buried in the mountains while he promised himself he would not be shipping her there in a pine box.
Instead, he arranged for them to share the mountain together, breathe in her majesty and accept her resolve. They came to proclaim eternal love. They came to touch heaven.
###
Confession. I really like this bit of flash fiction, yet it hasn’t won or earned a spot by a publisher. So, I’m taking the plunge and sharing it with you all as my submission to the Enchantment theme of Bella’s #LoveBlogChallenge. I’ve very much enjoyed reading along and being an intermittent part of this month of writing about love.
They came to touch heaven... What's more enchanting than a love story? #LoveBlog2018 Click To Tweet###
This is a #BlogHop Friends! I encourage you to tell us about enchantment. First, meet your hosts:
Bella Brita! Brita Long is the pink and sparkly personality behind the Christian feminist lifestyle blog, Belle Brita. While her first love will always be Paris, she lives happily with her husband Daniel Fleck in the Atlanta area. Bella is hosting this hop every weekday in February.
Brita can also be found at:
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Also Taylor Morrell, a WAHM who loves to talk. She is obsessed with reading, writing, history, Wales. She is a Utahn transplant in Texas. The Morrell Tale aspires to show the real day to day of being a mommy blogger.
The Morrell Tale can also be found at:
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Now read along then add your link:
One more thing – you can read more stories, short and super-short in my collection: The Future and Other Twists. Details on that here.
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