JANUARY 17, 1997
FEELING DAZED AND OFF BALANCE, I TRUDGED THROUGH THE FIELDS AT THE BACK OF our property with Hugh by my side. Stumbling over uneven surfaces and potholes, I tried to get my bearings, while Hugh remained patient the entire time.
I felt like I was emerging from hibernation. Like a bear waking up after a long winter’s sleep. The watery sunshine felt strange on my face, but the feel of his hand in mine felt right.
I knew Hugh could walk a lot faster than this, and I was slowing him down, but he seemed content to keep pace with me, while I felt more alive than I had in weeks.
We walked for hours through the fields and country lanes, while Hugh filled me in on everything that had happened since our last meetup. I couldn’t retain much of what he was telling me, but the sound of his voice was so soothing that I never wanted him to stop talking to me. I could spend the rest of my life listening to his voice and never grow tired.
It was hard to explain the comfort Hugh’s presence gave me.
He made it easy to be alive.
I knew that was a strange thing to think, but it was how I felt.
Living was a lot easier when Hugh was nearby.
When I was doing my living with him.
By the time we made it back to my house, after spending an eternity rambling through the countryside, it was dark outside. I wasn’t afraid, though. Not when I had the brave knight to protect me. I had faith in his ability to keep the monsters away. I trusted him to never let go of my hand.
No matter what.
“Aw, crap,” Hugh groaned, when we rounded the side of my house and locked eyes on his mother’s car. “I’m a dead man walking, Liz.”
I opened my mouth to ask him why, but his mother got there first.
“Hugh Andrew Biggs!” Sinead called out. “That better be you skulking behind the house!”
Hiding behind the side of my house, Hugh released an audible groan. “Jesus, she sounds really pissed.”
“Why?” I asked, turning to look at him.
“So, I sort of didn’t tell her I was coming over,” he explained sheepishly. “And I sort of didn’t ask for permission to cycle to your house, either.”
“Oh.” I felt myself laugh for the first time in weeks. “You are so dead.”
“Elizabeth Eleanor Young!” That was my mother. “Return the boy to his mother right this instant.”
“Yeah, Elizabeth.” Hugh waggled his brows playfully. “Return me to my mother right this instant.”
This time my smile morphed into a full-on grin.
