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Be My Reason

Page 8

by Brooklyn Taylor


  Grammy never showed up to sit with me to watch the movie, but instead walked over to me halfway through and said she had a friend taking her home. She had come down with a headache and was ready to get into bed.

  Yeah, right. I didn't believe it for a hot second, but I wasn't going to argue with her. She had wanted me to find a man in my life, like my grandpa, and hated I hadn't begun to start my life with someone yet.

  “So why have you never come to this before?” I asked, while admiring him in his sheriff’s uniform. I would lie if I said I didn't enjoy his body when he walked away in his fitted cargo pants when he did a coffee and M&M run. I don’t recall ever enjoying a uniform like I did Wyatt’s.

  I had the blanket wrapped around me now to keep me warm.

  “I’m usually working, but besides that, I just really didn't have an interest in watching a bunch of kids running around. It just seemed more like a family thing, and I don't have a family yet…hopefully, one day.”

  “Then you want kids?”

  “I’m not sure about all that. I’ll take it as it comes. I want to find a woman I can’t live without first.”

  “And how’s it looking?”

  “I haven't had much luck.”

  “Yeah…”

  The sky was breathtaking tonight. Stars were scattered without a cloud in the sky and I couldn't take my eyes off of it, except for when I looked at him. Mostly when he wasn't looking at me. There was something about his eyes that made me want to trust him. To want to know him. To want to take the steps to see if we could have something.

  “All right, so totally out of the blue, I want to know something. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to, but I do feel at home in a way with you, like I could ask you anything and you aren't going to feed me a bunch of crap.”

  I waited a minute to give him a chance to respond and judged his facial expressions. Surprisingly, he didn't look like he wanted to run for the hills.

  “Have you ever been in love? Like really in love? Not in lust? And not infatuated?”

  “Hmmmm…”

  “Come on, humor me. You can ask me anything you want after you answer my question.”

  “I had two steady girlfriends in high school. They both were used to a way of life that I knew I didn't want. I grew up a certain way, and I knew from a pretty young age that wasn't how I wanted to live my life. I had one serious girlfriend in my early twenties, who I thought would be the one. I wanted her to be the one. She thought she felt that way about me too, but turns out she didn’t. But to answer your question, I think I was in love. It felt like love.”

  I watched as his eyes looked right into mine. The green was putting me in a trance and I had to look away for a brief moment. When I returned to his eyes, he was still looking at me.

  “How about you?”

  “I have only been in love once. But the feeling was not mutual. I wanted to make a life with him, and he had decided what he wanted wasn't me. End of story. But truthfully, it was the best thing that happened to me. I wasn't ready to be married, or be a wife. I still wasn't sure about what I wanted. I wanted what my grandparents had…. a perfect love…a fairy tale.”

  “And you think you can’t have that? A fairy tale? I know I would like to give that to a woman one day.”

  I smiled. I wanted to reach for his hand. Instead, he took mine. Now we were both lying back on the hay bales looking at the stars, not caring where we were or what time it was.

  He leaned over me with a smile. “My turn.”

  “You already asked a question.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  I laughed. “Okay…what is it?”

  “Can I kiss you?” he asked sweetly. I had never heard words so sweet out of a voice so deep.

  “I was wondering what was taking you so long.” I smiled as his lips kissed mine softly. It was a kiss that gave me butterflies but also made me realize the feelings I could have for this man may not be feelings I could control at my own will. He was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

  When his lips parted from mine, I ached for the pressure again. The tingles that shot through my body when he kissed me brought out a want in me I wasn't familiar with.

  Was I missing this previously? Yes, yes, I was.

  I apparently hadn't been properly kissed before.

  Oh sweet Baby Jesus.

  We had spent time together several times now, and my feelings were getting more intense, I wanted to fight them, but it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

  It wasn't just the trance of Kellye Joe’s lights, or the rodeo heat, or the starlight from the sky, it was because Wyatt Galloway was a man who was winning my heart.

  12

  BREIGH

  Falling in love was something I had no intention of doing again, at least for a long time, but that changed after spending time with Wyatt. I loved how he checked so many boxes of what I wanted for a future with a man. Not only did he have a great career he was passionate about, but he also had a lot of my same values. Values that ran thin with others.

  I had been filling Grammy in about Wyatt, and she was ready to meet him. I wanted to bring him over today so she could see anything I was missing. She was always a great judge of character.

  I had invited him over after a speedy phone call during my ten-minute lunch break the day before.

  Wyatt arrived on time, and joined Grammy and me on the porch. We were talking and laughing, waiting for our guest to arrive.

  I met him with a hug and he brought us both, Grammy and me, a bouquet of flowers, each a variety of wildflowers that were clearly picked up from the town florist, not the buckets that were placed at the checkout stands at H-E-B.

  “I don’t remember the last time I got flowers, dear. This made my day. Thank you.” She took a smell and then pointed out what the various ones were.

  “You are very welcome.”

  He sat with Grammy as I went in to put the flowers in water.

  As I walked out, I paused and listened on the other side of the screen door to the easy conversation they were having. They laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked as I walked out, bringing some glasses and iced tea.

  “I was just telling Wyatt here about the mud pies you used to make. You were one fantastic mud pie baker.”

  I took a bow. “Thank you, thank you.”

  I poured tea in the glasses and continued listening to Wyatt speak about some of the things he did with his aunt and her influence on him. How he could never repay her for all she had done for him.

  “She doesn't want you to pay her back for anything. I’m sure you were just as important in her life, as she was in yours. That’s how love is. Like my Breigh here, she moved in with me when she was three. It was a lot; I wasn't sure how my husband and I were going to deal with it at our age. But I can’t imagine having seen her as a granddaughter rather than a daughter.”

  “I feel the same way Grammy.”

  “God works that way. You never know when He is going to place that person in your life, sometimes when you need it, sometimes where you don't know you need it, or sometimes for a reason or THE reason.” Grammy started to get lost looking into her yard. The well-manicured, green Augustine grass grew to a perfect lush consistency. Always the perfect color. The pecan trees that covered her yard had grown over my twenty-eight years, along with me. They always protected us from the hot sun in this Texas weather.

  “She has always preached this to me. Grandpa too. That everyone who comes into your life is for a reason. And she happens to think…you, Wyatt, are my reason.” I made eye contact with him and stared, not willing to turn away. Our eyes stayed locked onto each other.

  “Dear, I am going to go inside, the heat is getting to me.”

  I moved to the white rocking swing that had been hanging on the far corner of the porch my entire life and Wyatt followed me.

  I began rocking and he put his arm behind me. We were completely silent, listening to the creaking of the o
ld wood as we swung back and forth. I feared I might have said too much. Maybe his reaction would be a sign of me feeling too strongly.

  Wyatt leaned in and grabbed my face lightly, moving mine to his. He held it there for a few seconds and then kissed me. I closed my eyes and took it in. The shade was predominately on that part of the house, and it made for a perfect moment. We continued rocking with our feet pushing us off, without taking our lips off of each other. When we finally parted, the swing was continuing to move but neither of us was pushing our feet off.

  “Breigh, about what you said about being the reason…”

  “I know, it is a lot so fast…I…”

  “I hope I am the reason for you to be happy, to never have to deal with all the things you have had to deal with in your life. But I want you to love me, because you truly love me. I’ve already felt far more than I ever thought I could again, but…”

  “No, but…I know it’s a lot.”

  “I’m just saying, give me some time.” He looked at me, judging my reaction.

  I shook my head, confirming I understood, but was speechless on what else I should say. I surely didn't want to rush into anything, but I did want him to know he was special, that we really did have something.

  “I’m sure Grammy needs some help.” I began to stand up in front of the swing slowly, so it wouldn't send him backward.

  He reached for my hand and pulled me down on his lap. “I have never felt so strongly about someone, Breigh. And I mean that. Please know how much I do want this.”

  “I do too.”

  I had a lump in my throat, and felt for the first time a man was being honest with me, something I certainly wasn't familiar with, uncharted territory.

  Every word out of Wyatt’s mouth meant a lot to me. I hated to admit that I believed him.

  13

  BREIGH

  I had knocked on my dad’s door for over fifteen minutes. Frankly, I was shocked the door was still standing. Normally I used my key, but it had been dead bolted. The lock had barely held on. I guess it was better that way instead of just left wide open, which had happened more times than not.

  “Dad, I’m leaving in five more minutes. I don't have the time to keep doing this. I have places to go,” I said loud and sternly. He had called and asked if I could stop by. When I asked for what, he said he would tell me once I got there. It wasn't abnormal for his behavior to do this, and I felt like I was going to be walking into something I knew I was going to dislike. Normally it was something he needed, money, or he was an emotional mess wanting to talk about Mom. In that scenario it always ended with him hating me, blaming me. It was safe to say I had my guard up.

  With my last attempt I knocked loudly and even kicked the bottom of the door, showing my frustration. I decided to walk around to the back porch and found the sliding glass door wide open.

  I entered cautiously, running all the different ways I had seen him through the years in my mind. Naked, passed out just about everywhere in the house, asleep on the toilet, on the couch with a cigarette in his hand that had burned through his clothes and the part of the couch he was sitting on. He had done some crazy stuff.

  “Dad…”

  “Yes, darlin'. Come on in. I’ll be there in just a second.” He sounded sober. And he was in the kitchen? A smell had filled the air and for once it wasn't a smell of stale cigarettes or week-old beer. And let me tell you, that was not a good smell. Smelled like rot from the inside out, gag in your mouth.

  I sat at the little bar area that met his modest kitchen. Surprisingly, the place was in much better shape than I was used to seeing.

  “Do you want something to eat? I made two omelets, just in case.”

  “You cooked?”

  “And I also have some fresh coffee brewing. Or would you prefer some hot tea?”

  I smiled, thrilled to see my father was sober, and trying to be a normal human. I hadn't seen this but two other times in my twenty-eight years.

  “Some coffee would be great. I’m not hungry though. Thank you.”

  He passed over the coffee and the creamer. “It just occurred to me that I have no idea how my only daughter takes her coffee.”

  I smiled. What was he up to?

  “So what is going on, Dad? Not that I’m not happy to see how good you are doing. I’ve prayed for this for a long time. It is a long time coming.”

  “I wanted you to be the first to know that I have started outpatient rehab. I haven't had a drink in three days, and I’m feeling great. I have started to go to AA meetings and want to make this change in my life. I want to be a part of your life, the right way.”

  His eyes were sincere and I couldn't help but feel a softness in my heart for my own father. I had looked into his eyes many times, but this time they were different. His usual glassy eyes, which almost stayed at a permanent stare, were now normal. I could have sworn there appeared to be a look of life in them, a fire. I had wanted him to be a part of my life, and I meant really be a part of my life for so long. Grammy was fantastic but it wasn't the same as having your father. I feared I would always have that yearning.

  “Better late than never.” He smirked and made a joke of it, really getting under my skin.

  “Yeah, Dad. Better late than never. Look, I have to get back to work. I’m covering for Frank who has been out ill. Do you want to do dinner or something later in the week or this weekend?”

  “Sure.”

  I leaned over and kissed his cheek and then started out the front door. “I’ll call you later in the week.”

  “Sounds good, Breigh.”

  Something was definitely up, but I had no idea what. What was wrong with me for thinking there was an ulterior motive?

  Because I knew my father.

  My father had never done anything unless it was for himself. And him getting sober was not for himself. He loved to drink far too much.

  WYATT

  Wyatt: I know we just spent time together at your grandmother’s, but I would love to see you again. You free?

  Breigh: For you.

  Wyatt: Okay, Friday?

  Breigh: Sure. Pick me up at my house? 251 South Main.

  Wyatt: I’ll be there at 6:00.

  Breigh: Looking forward to it. xoxo

  Breigh agreeing to dinner was a win for me. I thought after dinner, depending on how the meal went, I would drive her past my house. In my mind, I felt I needed to do this simply for the fact I had to make sure she understood who I was, which wasn't going to change. I was who I was, and from past experience, I wanted her to know from the get-go who I was. Breigh had a heart of gold; that I knew. But I had to put this fear to rest.

  After the internal debate, I had talked to Rhonda about it and she agreed if that “small” thing was what was holding up my feelings, I should do it. She was positive Breigh wouldn’t care, which made me realize she knew more about her than she had told me.

  Unlike most guys, I loved the start of wooing a woman. I had always wanted to give a woman everything she never had, and not in a financial way. My father had done that but he was still a horrible husband. He wasn't about the little things, hence I was. The little things were what mattered to me, and with the right woman, it would matter to her too.

  Aunt Rhonda had said Breigh made a pretty good living, but she worked a lot. I still didn’t completely understand what she did, although I was sure it was something that required empathy. My aunt had commented on her kindness when she came to her house, putting her at ease.

  I sat in my truck, a 1979 Chevrolet Silverado I had restored. It was my uncle’s, who my aunt had adored. I took a deep breath, and gave myself a pep talk. Okay… a little much? I haven't had an “official” date in a couple years, and the last woman I loved cheated on me with my brother. He didn’t know who she was, but she knew exactly who he was.

  Standing on her porch before knocking, I looked at her two rocking chairs and a few plants. Some looked like they were blossoming, and others not so much.
/>
  The door, a dark navy wood, flew open and Breigh stood before me with a great big smile. She was wearing a dress that complimented her figure, and her blue eyes. Her hair was pulled up and I immediately noticed her neck.

  “Breigh.” I handed her a small bundle of daisies I had picked up on the way here. She deserved so much.

  “That is so sweet, thank you. You are spoiling me!” She went up on her tippy-toes to place a sweet small kiss on my cheek. That helped to put my nerves at ease.

  “Would you like to come in right quick, while I put these in a Mason jar? I’ll be fast.”

  I followed her in and closed the door. The smell of her home immediately overtook my senses. It was a small place that had a woman’s touch, her touch. The country style made you immediately feel at home, and the honeysuckle smells made you want to look for the summer sun.

  I didn't walk far from the door; not sure I was ready to.

  In time.

  “Okay, I’m ready!” She grabbed her small leather purse and opened her door again for me.

  I led the way to my truck and she followed.

  “Nice truck.”

  “Thanks.” I had let her in the passenger door and she had seemed shocked I opened the door for her, but she didn't say anything. Just smiled.

  “Are you up for Mexican food, Italian, or if you really want to get crazy, we can get some takeout somewhere and go sit up on Roundtop Hill.”

  “I…” She looked bothered.

  “Oh God no…not for that. Sorry. No.” I cleared my throat. “To just listen to some music and eat so we can actually talk. NOTHING more.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  “This is a marathon not a sprint, right?” I said trying to put her more at ease.

  She nodded her head in agreement.

  Forty-five minutes later, we were sitting on my tailgate and passing Chinese takeout cartons back and forth. We both liked spicy food, and we picked up a bottle of wine on the way here. I bought the food, she insisted on paying for the wine.

 

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