Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Caroline

A lmost got it open," Calvin says. He's squatting down, sleeves rolled up. He's fiddling with a cabinet at the bottom of a bookshelf at the far end of the room. I'm on the sofa, the blanket over me once more. The room is a perfect temperature, the fire still burns in the hearth. Snow is coming down in droves.

I'm still shaking from everything he shared. I can't help but go to a dark place, thinking of Bernard and his heart attack on the dance floor, week-long coma, the call in the middle of the night on the singular time I agreed to get a real night's sleep. As if he couldn't depart while I was by his side.

"Must be a serious addiction, Aunt Pearl has," I say, trying to get out of my own head.

Calvin is still working the combination lock. "You have no idea."

"Maybe we should get her into a twelve-step program."

Calvin looks up, his face straight. "Not a bad idea. I'll let you tell her."

He's funny.

I picture having a heart-to-heart with Aunt Pearl. You know Calvin's liquor cabinet you've been breaking into? Well . . .

Calvin focuses once more on the cabinet. From this vantage point, I have a terrific view of his arm muscles. For a guy in his mid-fifties he has it going on. I close my eyes conjuring up a more delicious image.

"What have you got there?"

While I was daydreaming about Calvin in a snug tank top, working out in my home gym, he snuck up on me.

He's gesturing at the photo album on the sofa beside me.

"I sort of did an extensive tour of your house. Sorry." Though, truthfully I'm not sorry. I unearthed some treasures.

"I've got nothing to hide," he says with an amused smirk. I can't tell if he's flirting with me. After how we both reacted to The Kiss, he'll probably never go for it again. Likely, for the best. It threw me for a loop. In all fairness, how many more emotions can I manage in a single day?

"Then you won't mind if when we're done with this epic photo album, we move onto the vinyl album I found labeled, Cal's Hippie Cover." I point to the 45 on the coffee table. The cover is decorated with what looks like sixties bumper stickers. Flowers, peace signs.

He laughs, downs a shot and pours two more, setting the bottle on a side table. I can't blame him for drinking that down so fast. He just went through a terrifying experience. "Haven't looked at either in decades. I'll do it if you promise not to make fun of me."

"Of course."

He sits beside me, hands me a shot glass with golden liquid "This is my best bourbon. Straight from Kentucky."

He clinks his glass with mine. "To the blizzard of the century."

I sip the drink and grimace. Not my thing. I open the photo album to where I left off.

The first photo is priceless. I take a closer look. It's Calvin in his early twenties, standing on a stage, somewhere with green hills in the background, a tambourine-toting woman with long blond hair at his side. She only has eyes for him. Calvin's mouth is open mid-song, the mic on a stand between them. It looks like a scene from A Star is Born , hippie style.

I can't hold in my laughter.

"What happened to not making fun of me?"

"Oops. But come on."

The next half hour is filled with snort laughs, pricey alcohol, and unbelievable relief.

Things are becoming vividly clear. I suppose that's what happens when confronted with life-and-death occurrences. I lost Bernard. Come hell or high water, I will not lose Calvin, too.

I lean back and sigh, feeling a pleasant warmth from the whiskey and the company. Calvin stands and stretches, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned abdomen. He catches me looking and grins.

"See something you like?"

I redden. "You wish."

He moves to another cabinet and gets it open with a triumphant click. "Ah, here we go."

"What is it?"

He pulls out a dusty old record player. "Thought we could use some music."

He sets it up and lifts the 45 from the table, carefully placing it on the turnstile. Soon the room fills with the crackling sound of vinyl.

Love the One Your With

But it's not Crosby, Stills, Nash, or Young.

Calvin extends a hand to me. "Dance with me?"

"Is that you?" I ask, amazed.

He gives me an unsure look. "Maybe."

I hesitate for a moment, but then I take his hand. He pulls me up and into his arms, holding me close as we sway to the music. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, and I feel a sense of peace I haven't felt in a long time.

As the song ends, we don't pull away. Instead, we stand there, holding each other, letting the moment linger. It feels right. It feels like home. And for the first time in a long time I'm not afraid of what comes next.