Seventh Wonder by Renae Kelleigh

Author:Renae Kelleigh [Kelleigh, Renae]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Time passed in a blur, much too quickly. Books, poems, artwork. Laughter. Making love. Meg sat still (or tried to) while John sketched what seemed an entire book full of her likeness: sitting up, lying down, arms crossed, legs crossed, eyes crossed. She watched as he cracked open a box of watercolors which clearly, till now, had seen little use. She watched him apply swaths of color to the white paper using broad strokes of his brush. (“You’ve made my eyes prettier,” she observed. “Not possible,” he replied.) Every day they hiked. Every day they tolerated the thought of parting a little less. Every day they doubted their ability to withstand it that much more.

* * *

Another clear day: fair skies and terra cotta rock drenched in sunlight.

“This weather,” said Meg, her eyes closed and face lifted. She raised her arms to better feel the warm breeze and let go a peaceful sigh. “Reminds me of fall back home, when the Santa Anas pick up.”

John lowered his camera and took a careful step back from the ledge, lightly chuckling. “I can only imagine how different autumn in Santa Monica must be from Unionville, Connecticut.”

“It must be beautiful there in the fall,” guessed Meg.

“Lots of color, that’s for sure. To tell you the truth, I sometimes miss it, especially around the middle of September. That’s when you’d really start noticing the chill in the air back east - started thinking about boots and jackets and raking leaves. When we were growing up, my mom would always start making her cider about that time. Summer sticks around too long in California.”

“What are the winters like where you’re from?” asked Meg.

“Cold. Bitterly cold.”

“With snow?”

“Always.”

Meg smiled. “Do you know I’ve never seen it before? Not outside of pictures, anyway.”

He looked at her, his jaw unhinged. “You’ve never seen snow before?”

She shook her head.

“Holy hell,” he muttered. “You’ve never been skiing or ice skating or anything?”

“No. I’ve always wanted to go for a sleigh ride.”

He grinned. “We did that once, in the Berkshires in western Mass. You’d love it there - it’s beautiful.”

“I’m sure I would.”

“One day I’ll take you there. I’ll teach you how to ski.”

He said it so casually, so easily assuming their relationship would outlast this week. Assuming there would be a “one day.”

As if there had never been any question.

* * *

A light knock, followed by the groaning of hinges as the door swung open. “I brought lunch,” called Meg.

“Fantastic,” John replied from the bathroom. “I’m starving.” He tapped his soapy razor on the edge of the sink before taking one final pass at his right cheek. “Be out in a minute.”

He splashed his face with cool water and dried his cheeks before patting on a few drops of aftershave. When he walked into the kitchen, Meg was seated at the table with the newspaper spread open in her lap. It was the Daily Sun out of Flagstaff, delivered just that morning along with the rest of his weekly supplies. The somber expression on her face gave him pause.

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