Page 65 of Waiting on Life

He turned his head slightly so his words weren’t muffled. “Yes.”

“Now tell me what you did.”

“No. You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I would never,” I insisted. “Tell me what happened.”

He sighed. “I was playing with Little and wanted to give him a treat. I bent over to pick up a carrot from my basket. The annoying fucker ran up from behind me, jumped up onto my back, and proceeded to prance around like he was king of the goddamn hill.”

I tried to bite it back, I really did. The problem was, I could picture Little, one of our miniature goats, doing that. He was forever trying to get to the highest point on the farm, and Toby made a pretty good mountain. It was a lost cause as peals of laughter burst out.

Toby groaned. “See, I told you.”

I continued to massage. “Oh, baby. That’s adorable and sweet and I’m sorry it hurt, but come on. It’s funny.”

His lip quirked into a grin. “Okay, I might have laughed until I stood up. His tiny little hooves can really do a number.”

“Don’t worry. The liniment and some rest will have you better by tomorrow.”

He tried to sit up. “But I have to finish the—”

I pressed gently on his back, pushing him to the couch again. “You have to lie here and follow doctor’s orders.” I nudged his hip. “Move over.”

The couch wasn’t made for two people, but we made it work before. Toby wrapped an arm around my waist and held me close to him.

“Have I told you how happy I am that I listened to you? I’ve never been at peace as much as I am now.”

It showed. Gone was the nearly constant scowl I’d seen after he came home from the bar, and in its place was an almost perpetual smile. Despite having hurt his back, Toby looked forward to getting up in the morning, to getting his hands dirty by working in the soil, and coming in at night to help me make dinner. Then, after we ate, we’d sit in front of the fireplace and snuggle.

It was a life I never thought I could have. In my mind, I wasn’t worthy of Toby’s dream, but every day he showed me differently. The people in the town? Okay, when we started living here, they did give us a wide berth, but I talked one shop into carrying a few of my products, and that led to others asking. Toby, who was so afraid of being looked down on, found that he was welcome in the community when the people found he had soil in his veins, just like they did.

We’d both discovered a home, not only in each other, but in the community that was coming to accept us. I wasn’t stupid enough to think we’d be welcome with open arms into their homes. At least not right away. We hoped that would change one day, since we’d begun making ourselves known to more people by volunteering, working at the farmer’s market—one of the biggest draws of the summer to our sleepy community—and making ourselves available when one of them needed help. They were always surprised that this big guy with tattoos and a bald head and a little slip of a twink strolled into a room, rolled up their sleeves, and got to work.

“I’m glad,” I replied. “I never thought I’d belong anywhere. As much as I thought I wanted a home, I tended to push people away.”

And it was true. It took me getting away from the city, to the country where I could sit beneath the night sky and stare up at the stars, before I understood that what I really needed was to take time to breathe. In order to find a life, I had to stop chasing it, wait for it to come to me, and be open to accepting it.

So that’s what I was doing: taking every day I was allowed to walk this earth side by side with Toby as a gift. One that I would accept happily. Because there are no guarantees in life, so we need to grab what we want and hold on with a fierceness that might surprise us.

But in the end, it’s so goddamn worth it.