There You Stand (Between Breaths 5)

But I was enjoying my time with him these last several days. It was beginning to feel almost normal. Like we were figuring out our own special rhythm in a world where the drumbeat was constantly changing.

“Good,” my grandmother said, a smile flitting across her lips as she turned and stirred her sauce. “Cory needs somebody to look after him.”

Jude and I just stared and smiled at each other like we were sharing some magical secret. A secret that involved hopes and dreams and desires.

“I’ll set the table,” I said, standing and reaching for the dishes above the sink.

“Let me help,” Jude said and I pointed him to the utensil drawer.

Jude complimented my grandmother’s meatballs several times over the course of dinner, which I could tell she relished hearing. She’d smile and pat his arm and then ask him something else about his work at the Board Room or cities he’d visited.

Jude could be quite the charmer when he wasn’t hiding himself. I could already tell how much my grandmother adored his sense of humor and gentle demeanor.

I’d been nervous that he wouldn’t share himself with her and only remain quiet, polite, and alert, like he’d continued doing with the rest of the town—outside of the Raw Ink crowd, whom I could tell was growing on him.

So I was instantly relieved when he’d opened himself to my grandmother without hesitation, as if he were allowing me a special gift. She never pushed for details and he never offered more than he was willing to share, so it was an even and pleasant balance.

Jude had travelled across the United States and had lots to share about his favorite places on the West Coast. I couldn’t help wondering if we’d ever have the opportunity to travel together, but I also knew what feeling settled meant to Jude as well. After all, he had an entire tree inked on his back, roots and all.

After Jude and I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, we joined my grandmother on the sofa.

“Cory, in the dining room curio cabinet,” she said, nudging my elbow with her fingers. “There’s a drawer beneath with some photo albums. Pull out the large brown one for me.”

“Uh-oh,” I said, swallowing my groan as I stood up and made my way into the other room. “What are you up to?”

I searched around in the drawer and came across some other albums from my childhood that I quickly rotated and hid at the bottom of the pile.

“Do you remember that your grandfather and I honeymooned in the English countryside?” she asked me once I sat back down with the book in my hand.

“Which area?” Jude asked and off they went on an hour-long discussion about their trip and Jude’s childhood, while I got a history in English culture and learned something about my grandmother’s youth in the process.

They flipped through the pages, all while laughing and talking, as if this was completely natural for us. As if Jude was not in the witness protection program. He was not hiding out from his dangerous stepfather, while a motorcycle gang patrolled the neighborhood noting anything suspicious.

For this one night it simply felt real.

Chapter Thirty-three

The following weekend, I walked in to find Jude and my grandmother sitting together at her kitchen table. They had apparently become thick as thieves since the night they’d met. She’d even requested that both Jude and I pick her up from her ladies’ card night a couple of nights before.

But Jude had been busy at the Board Room that night and after frowning about it, she invited him over to breakfast the next Saturday instead.

“Have a seat, darling,” she said, placing a plate in front of me.

“What’s this?” I had asked. It looked like a sausage in the middle of some egg concoction.

Jude’s face had broken into a stunning grin. “It’s called Toad in the Hole. My mum used to make this for me and my sister in England.”

His foot slid over mine beneath the table, his hand reaching for my knee, as he took his first bite and declared it to be fantastic.

I looked over at my grandmother, who was pouring orange juice into short glasses. “I figured he’d want a little taste of home.”

“Thank you,” I mouthed to her.

That same afternoon, Jude wheeled his Harley into my grandmother’s garage so I could help him change his brake pads like I had done on my bike the month before. All of my tools were already there and Jude watched as I bled the fluid into an oil pan.

“Hand me a wrench?”

He nodded and rummaged around my toolbox.

“I’m thinking about taking some courses again,” he mumbled, as if unsure of himself.

“That’s great, Jude,” I said. “What track? Medical?”

He shrugged. “Or maybe something with animals?”

“You could talk to Emmy about that.”

He nodded, seeming more settled about it.

Afterward we said our good-byes to my grandmother and departed for a longer ride outside of town to test his brakes. We ended up back at my place, so I could feed and walk the dogs.

Then we had dinner at Jude’s, making for a perfect ending to our day. He broiled steaks, made up a salad, and afterward, I lay back on his couch, sated and sleepy.

“I want you to stay,” he whispered against my ear. “Wake up in my arms.”

“You sure?” I asked, adjusting myself against his chest.

“Let’s take it one night at a time,” he said. “You’re already dozing. You could use a good night of sleep.”