Page 138 of Just for Tonight

The next morning, the sunlight slants through the windows to illuminate the bedroom at precisely 7:59. I’ve been awake for a while, habit being what it is. It’s not possible to walk the vineyard this morning, though, and it feels good to just stay where I am. Jake and I are spooned together and his warmth is coiled around me, his arm around my waist.

This place is wonderful. The view over the lake is so peaceful, and it’s quiet, too, given the drop to the harbour. I love the entire wall of windows, how Jake has had them updated and added sliding glass doors. I can imagine them open to a patio in summer and the house feeling at one with the outside. It’s a serene haven and very easy to love.

It’s not a big place, not now, though Jake said it can be expanded. The main room is in the middle and has a wonderful high ceiling as well as all that glass. The bed is in the larger bedroom off to the left. Another small room was apparently combined with the existing bathroom to make the current large four-piece that’s adjacent. There’s a smaller bedroom to the right of the main room, one filled with computer screens and a big desk. It’s Jake’s office.

Mostly, he’s updated the mechanicals and improved the insulation, added a metal roof. All the practicalities. The kitchen isn’t finished, and I like that he’s left the choices to me. I watch the sunlight and consider yellows and warm tones to contrast with the blue of lake and sky.

It’s incredible that he’s given up the city to come back here.

He inhales and stretches, and I feel his muscles flex. I wriggle against him a bit and feel his body react, which makes me consider good ways to start the day.

But when I roll over, Jake looks concerned. “The surgeon said at the time that the vasectomy could be reversed. He told me to call anytime.”

“Ah.”

“Should I?”

“I don’t know.” He waits as I think about this. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know either.” Jake turns to look out the window. “I always thought I never would have kids, but now...” His gaze locks with mine. “It seems more possible now. With you.”

I smile. I can’t help it. “I always thought I’d have to give up too much to have family. But you’re right. It seems more possible with you and with you here.”

“With us here.”

We both nod and look at each other. My heart is so full that I think I might burst. “I can’t decide right this minute.”

“No and you don’t have to.” Jake takes my hand. “I think, though, that it would be better to have the chance to choose, rather than to have the choice made for us already.”

That’s fair. I nod. My throat is tight. It could work. It will work with the two of us here, him working from home, me with a fifteen-minute commute to the vineyards. I can envision a life filled with sailing and bonfires and another bedroom added on to the house. Maybe two. The future is suddenly very crowded with possibilities and I’m glad I’m holding Jake’s hand.

“I’ll call Monday and set up an appointment.” He gives me a smile. “Even though, I’ll be losing a bet.”

“With whom?”

“The surgeon. He said I’d be back. I said never. He bet me a buck that I’d call him.” He grins and shrugs. “You know, I don’t mind paying up.”

“I’ll give you that dollar,” I say, tapping a fingertip on his chest.

“Investment in the future?”

“Seeing you be Mr. Mom is going to be worth the price of admission,” I say and he laughs aloud. He kisses me, then tugs me out of the bed.

“Come on. Let’s take Isobelle out there together. It looks like a perfect day to sail.”

It certainly does.

43

Mike

It’s a nice day for a memorial service, as such things go. The wind is cool, coming off the lake, and the sun is shining. It’s cool, though, and the light has the blue tinge that I associate with November. Winter is in the air in the evenings, the last few bonfires being savored on the beach.

It’s busy downtown when we get there, a lot of people in dark clothes parking near the Anglican church. The organ is playing as people climb the steps. I know some of them, but not all of them. I’m surprised by how many people have come out for the service and am glad we listened to Jake for the catering. He thought there might be a crowd and he was right.

Sylvia is with me, her hand in mine, and she anchors me in the moment, as she always did. I’m not sure I could have managed this day, this change, without her by my side. I’ve worked through a lot of my guilt and my anger, enough that the future feels full of promise. That Sylvia and Sierra are with me makes all the difference. The farm makes all the difference.

Being able to talk any time with my big brother is huge. I love how happy Jake is with Mackenzie, too. He’s easier to talk to and I’m so glad he’s found his way home. Their place in Port Cavendish is welcoming and cozy, and we’ve crashed at the condo in Toronto, too. I feel like we’re supporting each other again, and that’s worth the world to me.