Scarlett Rose's Arc

Chapter 10 of 57

Scarlett stopped at the door of the cottage bar with her hand on the wood. The greenhouse rose up in her mind. A year of Clayton's quiet work. Glass panes he'd carried in one at a time. She had nothing in her hands. No gift. No gesture to set beside what he'd built for her. She almost turned back to the truck to think of something. Then she pushed the door open instead. Clayton stood the second she stepped inside. He was in a clean plaid shirt, hat off, hair still damp at the edges. His mouth opened and stayed open. He didn't speak. He just looked at her, and the look did the work a hundred wrapped boxes couldn't. "Scarlett," he said. Right this time. Careful with it. She crossed to the table. He pulled her chair. She sat and set her hands flat on the wood so he could see them steady. "I couldn't think what to bring you," she said. "For the glass house. I tried all afternoon." "You brought yourself." "That felt thin." "It isn't." He sat across from her. "I fixed a building. You walked in here looking like that and I forgot my own name. We're not even." She laughed before she meant to. The knot under her ribs loosened. "I want to give you something back," she said. "I need you to know that." "Then give me supper across this table and let me drive you home after." She nodded. That was a thing she could do. They ate slow. He asked about the mare. She asked about his sister. He reached once and touched her fingers where they rested by her glass and left his hand there. The fear of arriving empty-handed went quiet. She wasn't behind him. She was sitting with him. He paid. He walked her out with his hand at the small of her back. He followed her truck down the dark road to her cottage and parked beside it. On the porch she turned and looked up at him under the hat. "Come inside," she said. He came inside. She took off the hat and set it on the table. He took off his and set it beside hers. He kissed her slow, then not slow. He lifted her like she weighed nothing and she laughed against his mouth. In the bedroom he set her down careful. He unhooked the dress with steady hands and folded it over the chair like it mattered. He kissed the freckles across her shoulder. He said her name right, once, into her hair. After, she lay against his chest and listened to him breathe. She had come with empty hands and given him the only thing he'd been waiting for. The greenhouse and this night belonged to the same story now. His truck was still in her yard when the sun came up.