by Debbie Zello
“You might want to consider being a travel agent. I think you have a knack for it. I’m sold on staying right where we are. What if we make every effort to come back twice a year? We’ll get a computer for the ranch and pay for the internet service. Then we can Skype with them whenever you want,” he said holding my hand.
“We could do that. I knew there was a reason I love you besides the obvious.”
“Trust me there is no obvious reason why you love me. I’m simply the luckiest man on the planet,” he said kissing my hand.
“You just keep thinking that. I know the truth and you’re my first place, my blue ribbon, and my final A.”
We landed and found our luggage rather quickly. Holding hands, we walked out to the main terminal and immediately saw my parents, Sky, Dove, Klutch and Mason. Mason held in his stroller, a small sign that read:
Welcome Home
Auntie Firelight
And
Uncle Understanding
I turned to him and said, “Well, Uncle Understanding, what do you think of that?”
“Poor kid, it’s a mouthful. A dollar says he never calls me that.”
“I’ll take that bet. Come meet my family.”
It was cute to watch the interaction between Sky and Understanding. Sky told him in his body language and handshake that, ‘you hurt even one hair on her beautiful head, I’ll break you in half and feed you to the pigeons.’
While Understanding said, ‘you have nothing to worry about. I’ll protect her with my own life.’ My two men trying to out-macho each other.
Dove has never looked happier. Her son is a carbon copy of his dad but with Dove’s dimples. Mom and dad were a little older and slightly more worn. Farming was a difficult job and hard on the body. But all-in-all, they looked good to me.
Understanding went to rent a car for us. Then he was going to check into a nearby hotel for our five-day visit. I told him he was most welcome to stay at the ranch but he said, “I can’t stay under the same roof as you and not sleep with you. I can’t sleep with you and not make love to you. I can’t make love to you under your family’s roof. It’s better if I stay at a hotel and you can have connubial visits.”
With directions in his phone and a kiss good-bye, he went his way and I went with my family for the ride back to the ranch.
Seeing the worn sign that welcomed you to the ranch was comforting. As soon as I saw it, I knew I was back to my hideaway, my refuge from the storm of life. I always felt relaxed here, I could be the real me without judgment or ridicule.
Everyone stopped their chores to come out to greet me. Grey, whom I have decided was born looking sixty and then didn’t age past that, hugged me for several minutes crying. June, Blue, and Raven who was now nearing ninety and using a walker, waited for their hug. I made my way down the line of smiling faces and received the love of my family in abundance. Then as quickly as they assembled, they departed to get back to their chores, promising to meet up again at dinner and the fire.
I went to my old room trying to figure out how to split my time here between Understanding and the family. Nothing in here had changed. The same books were on the shelf. The same curtains on the window and bedspread on the bed. I was the one thing that was so different.
I found Dove with Mason in the kitchen. She had warmed up his bottle and was feeding him. “Can I do that?” I asked.
“Sure!” she said handing him over.
“I’m going for a walk with him out to the field. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Cradling the baby in my arms, I walked out the back door. The sun was so warm but there was a gentle breeze blowing up the hill. I walked the same path I had walked thousands of times before.
I found my favorite spot under the Royal Empress tree. It wasn’t so much the tree that made this my spot. It was the name of the tree and the view of the ranch from under it. As a child, I imagined myself as the empress and the ranch was my realm. Simply sitting under it made this so.
Mason drank his bottle dry and then gave me a burp worthy of any man and I chuckled at its intensity. I placed his blanket on the ground and laid him on top of it. I stretched his arms and legs out as he cooed and smiled at me. I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath.
Mason was asleep on his blanket between my legs. He was almost a month old and his pudgy legs betrayed his healthy appetite. I looked up to see Understanding walking towards me. As he got close he said, “You look so happy. This field is your favorite isn’t it?”
“No, you’re my favorite. This field is my quiet place, my sanctuary.” He sat down next to me and took Mason’s little hand in his.
“Don’t I make you feel safe?”
“Absolutely, you’re my person. This is my safe place. Where I go when I need to escape. When I don’t have you,” I explained, cupping his face in my hand. He took my hand and kissed the palm. Then he put his arm around me and looked at my field of tall grass.
“I can see that. It’s beautiful and very peaceful here.”
The next few days went by in a blur of activity. I took Understanding on a tour of the town. We went to my high school and the school where I volunteered, teaching the children. We passed by the farmer’s market where we sold our produce and handmade items. We snuck to his hotel for my conjugal visit.
Our last night, Understanding took all of us out for a very nice dinner at a local restaurant. It was the first time that we had ever done this. It was a real treat to all be together and no one had to cook or clean up after us.
Sky told the story of my first driving lesson. I relayed the painting of the barn when the entire gallon of stain landed on my dad’s head spilling all the way down his body. He was red for weeks after that. It was great to laugh together.
After dinner, we went back to the ranch to have an early center fire. We usually wait until sunset. As Sky calls it, “The death of the day.” Tonight would be different as we had an early flight back and I wanted one last fire before we left.
We gathered around the pit on the benches and rocks as old as California itself. Sky began with our usual blessing, “With respect to everyone’s belief, or lack thereof, we give thanks for our day and this assembly.”
They went through some old business about a new crop Grey wanted to try and the painting of the kitchen. Then Sky opened the conversation up for any new business. Understanding stood up.
“I wish to address Firelight’s family if I might.”
“Of course,” Sky said sitting down.
“Sixteen months ago, I was walking back to my motorcycle that I had parked across the street from a coffee shop. Standing on the sidewalk was a vision, an angel, wearing jeans and a hoodie. She had a book bag over her shoulder and she was staring at my bike.”
“She knocked the breath right out of me without even touching me. Through some kind of divine intervention, she consented to date me. Then even after I told her my deepest and darkest secrets, she still chose to love me. This angel actually loves me.”
“I can’t promise health or wealth,” he said kneeling down and taking my hand. “But I can promise to love you every day for the rest of my life. I can promise to be by your side through the good and the bad. I can promise to keep you safe by my side.”
“Firelight, will you do me the honor of making me your husband?” Through the tears rolling down my cheeks, I saw him pull a small box from his pocket and open it.
I began nodding my head, as I couldn’t speak.
“Is that a yes?” he said teasing me.
“Yes,” I croaked.
Chapter Thirty-One
We spent the night locked in each other’s arms at the hotel. I held my hand up to the small sliver of light from the streetlamp outside of the window. My ring sparkled and I watched the prisms dance across the ceiling. Understanding took my hand and kissed it. “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure which one to buy. You don’t wear much jewelry and for me to guess your style was a stretch.”
“I love it. It’s perf
ect for me. I’m just worried about the extravagance. I didn’t need a ring,” I said still unable to stop smiling.
“I needed it. Despite what my mother thinks, the bone-crushing business is doing quite well. I wanted you to have the tradition of an engagement ring. The symbolism behind it and the promise it carries with it. We’re tied together with this ring,” he explained holding my hand.
Once we were home, we fell right back into our normal routine. My fall classes began and as quickly as the seasons change, I was receiving my advanced degree. Understanding was right there celebrating with me and the hundred or so other students receiving their degrees. I liked the smallness of the ceremony. After graduating with thousands in May, it was nice to have so few.
With the realization that I was beginning my doctorate, came the apprehension that I had to have my dissertation theme and plan completed, turned in and accepted by Professor Miller in less than three months.
I had such a high opinion of him and genuinely liked him as a person, I wanted to live up to what I knew he would expect of me. After weeks of agonizing over my topic, I finally wrote my proposal.
I want to examine the differences and similarities of love and deep friendship. I will accomplish this through the writings of poets and storytellers from the 1600’s to 1900’s. I find this period to be where the most change took place in society’s definition of love. When women began to demand more from a relationship than mere security.
After several discussions with Professor Miller, and rewrites back to him, just before fall classes began, I had an accepted proposal in my hand. Now the real work began.
I walked into the Professor’s first lecture of the year much the same as I did for the first of his lectures my first year. This time, I sat in the far back of the hall. As his research assistant, I was there, more or less, to observe. I half expected to see Royce walk into the room as he did for my first lecture. Instead, Professor Miller’s face smiled back at me.
He began by introducing himself as “The old crusty curmudgeon in the English department.” He was far from all of that. He was tough but fair. He knew his subject forwards and backwards and you needed to keep up with him or fall behind at your peril. He made me smile at his characterization.
Keeping up with the work he gave me, my own class work, and my research on my thesis proved to be exhausting. Understanding began taking me on a brisk walk several times around the neighborhood every morning. He explained this would clear the cobwebs and put some balance between sitting all day in class and the need for movement. He was right, of course. I felt better on the days I walked than on the days I didn’t.
I got home to find Understanding in the back yard pulling up a dead bush. His dark shirt was soaked with sweat and stuck to his skin. I watched the workings of his heavily muscled back, beginning to sweat a little bit myself. Just how this man could turn me on without even making eye-contact astounded me. I was about to go and get him something to drink when he turned around and smiled at me. I opened the slider and said, “Hi. I’m going to get you something to drink.”
“Thanks, I need it. I’m almost done here. I’ll be in, in a minute.” He turned back to dig up the other side of the bush. In the kitchen, I made some lemonade from a powder. With ice cubes in a glass, I poured the mixture in and took a sip. It tasted okay so I filled another for Understanding. He came in just as I had finished. Taking a gulp that emptied half of the glass he said, “That tastes good. Nice and cold. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to see that bush gone, it was an eye-sore. How long have you been at it?”
“Not long. You weren’t here when I came in so I went out back and dug in. I’m going to shower and I’ll be right back,” he said walking to the stairs. I watched him go up and smiled. I decided I’d join him in the shower.
“This is an extremely nice way to spend a late afternoon,” Understanding said stroking my arm. I gave him a one-armed hug across his chest. I was listening to his heartbeat with my eyes closed.
“Agreed. Making love with you is a great stress-reliever.”
“You’re stressed, Baby? Is all this too much? I’m putting too much pressure on you?”
“Not really. I want this too. The sooner I finish; the sooner I can begin my forever life with you. Holding the baby that is part you and part me is something I want very much.” His arm went down to my waist as he pulled me to be on top of him.
“Have you ever wondered what another man would feel like? Are you sorry that I have been your only lover? I guess I want to know if I’m enough. I’m not looking for compliments. I want an honest answer,” he said quietly. I felt his body stiffen in a bracing feeling. He was nervous at my answer. I raised my head to look directly in his eyes.
“When I was with Royce, I wondered a lot what it would be like with him. After he passed, I continued to think about what I would have felt with him. He was still with me when I met you.”
“When you danced with me and kissed me, I saw him backing away from me,” I said feeling small tears beginning to run down my cheeks. “He was letting go of me and I was doing the same with him. I stopped feeling him completely the day we first made love. It felt like he made sure I was happy and cared for and then he could leave.”
“I haven’t felt him since and I hardly ever think about him anymore. When I do, it’s a memory, not a longing. As far as any other man goes~never. I have never wondered, wished or thought about any man except you.” I finished kissing him.
“I’ve been bracing myself to hear you say that you were thinking about how another man might feel. I wasn’t sure that just having one reference would sit well with you. I know how you are with your research.”
“For facts or history, I search. For love, I’m good, right here.”
Professor Miller’s book was a joy to research. His focus was an extension of the work Royce was doing. Miller wanted to dive into the number of women that wrote under male pseudonyms to escape society’s trappings of what a woman should concern herself with or write about.
I spent hours as did he looking into authors’ backgrounds to determine their true gender. Not an easy task with the records being over four-hundred years old. Some ending with no birth, marriage or death record at all. Those were the ones I concentrated on because making up a name was easy, a complete identity not so much.
We made our way through the winter and as spring approached, I turned in both my work on my thesis and the findings I had for Miller. I had decided to take the summer off from classes and focus on my research and writing. I had a final meeting with Miller.
I made my way down the hall towards Miller’s office. I rounded the corner to see the boy from the coffee shop walking towards me smiling with recognition. He was accompanied by who I thought were his parents and another student. As we got close I said, “Hi. How are you?”
“Hi. I’m good. You look good. You’re still here?” he said stopping in front of me.
“Yes, I’m working on a doctorate in the English department. Are you thinking of coming here?”
“I’ve been accepted. These are my parents, John and Lynda Greenberg. Mom, Dad, this is Neomi Dillon.” We all shook hands with an appropriate greeting of ‘nice to meet you.’ My attention went back to him.
“I look forward to seeing you around then. I’ll be Professor Miller’s TA in the fall. If you have him, you’ll see me. Have a great summer!” I said smiling.
“You too. I’ll see you around,” he said walking away. I began to walk to the end of the hall where Miller’s office was when it occurred to me that I don’t think I know his name. And yet…he knew mine. I suppose he knew my first name from my tag at the coffee shop. My last name from my graduation, I guess. Maybe I was told his and simply forgot. I knocked on the professor’s door. “Enter.” I opened it and walked in.
“Hi, Professor Miller. How’s your day going?”
“Good Neomi. How’s yours?”
“Good. I’m finishing up some
stuff. I’m glad to have this summer off. I need a little down time,” I confessed as I slumped into the chair.
“Now I’m sorry to have to give you all of this,” he said pushing a pile of papers and notebooks my way.
“What’s all that?”
“I’ve just accepted teaching another summer course in England. It will cause me to miss the first six days of class here. I’m trusting you with the task of beginning the year alone.
“Now, don’t panic. I have all of the lesson plans done as well as the prep for the first quiz. I thought you might like to borrow Royce’s idea of a get to know you essay. It’s six tiny days. You’ll do fine!”
“Six tiny days that just happen to be the first six tiny days of school and the six tiny first days of me teaching anything! Only you could call them six tiny days,” I said exasperated.
“Three classes are first year students and one is second year. You can do this with your eyes closed,” he cajoled.
“Good! Because they just might be closed.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I was spending hours reading and writing every day. So much time that my eyes were bothering me. At first, they just seemed tired but after a while, they actually hurt. Understanding talked me into going to get an eye exam and a few days later I was sitting with my glasses on at the library. I had to admit that my eyes did feel better. They were not a strong prescription, just something to help with the eyestrain of a lot reading and computer work.
It felt good not taking summer courses. I’d been working so hard for so long, I needed to decompress.
Understanding tended to have more work in the summer than at any other times. There were more summer concerts, sporting events and car shows. He actually had to guard a man’s car once. I can’t imagine having so much money that you can pay someone to watch your car.