by C.T. Millis
Chapter 7
“You made all of this for me?” Danielle was surprised.
“The mashed potatoes are instant, but the rest is home-made.” Mr. Heckerman replied. They sat down to eat the chicken and asparagus until their stomach were full of food and wine.
Later, when they sat on the steps of his back porch, Danielle put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“I do care about you.” Her words caused his back to stiffen.
“Don’t get hurt.” He said as the moon appeared large and orange in the low horizon- waxing and waning, but with no real companion. He really did not want her to get hurt.
Later still, they were lying naked in his bed, she traced his forearm thinking it was like an anchor of flesh that kept him tethered to this world. Maybe it kept her there, too. The hair on his arm was already grey.
“You won’t hurt me.” She whispered. Deeper in the night, she was home. Danielle was already in the process of recreating the night and wishing it was not as sour and lonely as it had been. She imagined two oaks in the wilderness that grew together. Their branches would intertwine and their trunks would bevel out where they met. One tree would creak in the wind, old scars up its side. Because the two trees rose out of the earth together, their strength was multiplied and they would never fall in a storm.
“Don’t get hurt,” the one tree with the scars would say to the other.
