Country Roads by Grea Warner

Author:Grea Warner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Country Music, Teacher, Second Chance at Love, Music, Fans
Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
Published: 2018-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

A delivery of a dozen red roses and a dozen yellow roses arrived around dinnertime that Monday. I didn’t have to read the card. There was only one person they could be from. But I opened and read it anyway. There were only two words on the card: Trust and Real which definitely, beyond a doubt, solidified the sender.

Trying not to get too emotional at the thoughtful, romantic gesture, I took a picture of the flowers and forwarded it to the rose giver with the attached text message: I love, love, love, love them. And I added a heart symbol.

While I waited for a response, I searched for the ideal spot in the apartment. They were so bountiful that they almost overwhelmed every place I put them. Finally, I decided on my bedroom. That was where I felt him the most, anyway.

Just as I had them settled, Finn’s text reply came in: & who might they be from?

I typed back: The only REAL person I TRUST.

I’m glad. Got unscented, BTW.

I stuck my nose into the flowers and was amazed at not only the non-fragrance but at the consideration. Can U talk? Can U call me?

When my phone rang out “Roxanne”, the designer ring I had programmed for Finn on Thanksgiving, I picked up and said, “Can’t ever lose with roses, Cowboy.”

“Good to know,” he replied.

“Finn?” I turned more serious while sitting on my bed and admiring the gorgeous arrangement. “I do trust you. I just sometimes don’t trust myself. I don’t trust that things are real...at least the good stuff. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I know, Lar,” he sounded a little Buddha-like. “I get it. I just don’t want you to forget or doubt me, you, or us, especially when I’m so far away and can’t really judge what’s going on in that cycling mind of yours.”

“Cycling or psychotic?” I joked.

“Beautiful,” he amended.

“Geez.”

“Christmas seems so far away.”

“A lot farther today somehow than yesterday.” It should have had the opposite feeling, but not when I was only one day removed from him leaving and a month more to go before seeing him again.

“You’re for sure gonna be at your mom’s place that week?”

“Yep.”

“I’m gonna make it work.” He spoke of his plans for us to somehow meet up since he would be celebrating with his family in Louisville during that same time. “As soon as I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

“I know,” I stopped mid-stream and changed the wording. “I trust that you will.”

“Ha! Ha!” he laughed. “You good with everything?”

“I was. I am. And, if I’m not, I’ll just stop and smell the non-scented roses,” I teased.

“Then expect a new delivery every week.”

“Don’t...you...dare,” I spoke slowly for emphasis.

“Hmmm, that sounds like a challenge.”

“It is not. Finn!”

“Huh?” He was playing dumb on purpose.

“I love the roses, but don’t send them all the time. It’ll lose the meaning.”

“I gotcha.”

“Calling me...talking with me...that never gets old, though.”

“Ditto.”

***

Even though we texted or talked frequently, the night that he actually called to confirm our holiday plans, I was at our staff holiday party.

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