The Woman in the Woods by J.E. Rowney

Author:J.E. Rowney [Rowney, J.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-25T16:00:00+00:00

Katie takes her usual hour to get dressed and emerges from the bedroom looking like she’s ready to go for a lunch date in town with one of her girls rather than a trek through the woods. I pause before speaking, and instead of what I wanted to say I make do with, “You look beautiful.” Not practical in any way, but beautiful. She has showered and done whatever it is that she does with her hair to make it curly and bouncy. It’s naturally pretty flat, or straight or whatever, but when she’s going somewhere special, she spends time on it, making it, well, more like this. She either sees her and I taking a walk in the woods as a special occasion or she has already got to the point where she would rather spend time on her own in the bedroom making unnecessary aesthetic adjustments than being out here talking to me. I hope it’s the former.

“Thanks,” she smiles, and walks over.

She flings her arms around me and presses her head against my chest. When she’s just finished putting on her make-up, she always does this thing where she makes sure she presses her hair against me rather than burying her face into me. Whether it’s against my shoulder or my chest, she always puts the thought into avoiding smudging her make-up, rather than enjoying the embrace without worrying about her foundation. I stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head.

She’s wearing jeans today, at least, that’s one small concession. On her top half she has a white vest and a flimsy floaty floral shirt over the top. If it’s as cold as it has been so far this week, she’s going to freeze. I have to make the choice between asking her if she’s taking a jacket and risk an argument, or to say nothing and know that I will probably end up lending her my coat within the next half hour. I’m wearing jeans, T-shirt and hoody, in my usual style less style, and I calculate that if I have to pass over my jacket, I’ll probably just about be warm enough. Anything to avoid conflict.

She’s about to slip her feet into the Birkenstocks by the door, when she sees me putting on my walking boots.

“Not wearing your nice trainers?” she asks. It sounds like she thinks I’m not making an effort, somehow. Like she has dressed up for our ‘date’ and I am slacking by being practical.

“It’s muddy down the tracks,” I say, without any suggestion that she should make a better decision about her footwear.

She pauses, kicks her sandals back against the wall, and hops back down to the bedroom.

“Don’t want to fuck those up. I’ll find something else. Sorry Bun Bun. Won’t be a minute.”

“Fine,” I call after her.

“I’ll grab my jacket too.”

It’s always, ALWAYS, better to let Katie come to her own good decisions rather than helping her to make them. She’s not a girl who takes guidance well.

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