Page 23 of Tides and Tidings

She placed a small peck on my cheek, “Sure do.” Blythe stood up and reached for my hand. “Let’s go find where we can buy tickets.”

Strolling the streets with my hand in hers made me feel complete. Between the two of us, we were a solid unit.

“I think the ticket booth is up there.” I pointed to the small white stand decked out in all things Christmas.

“Hello!” Blythe greeted the salesperson who looked like he hated life.

“Hi.”

“How are you doing?” She was doing the same thing to this poor guy that she did with me—killed him with kindness.

“Two tickets for y’all?”

“Yes, please.”

The guy handed us our tickets and we made our way to the trolley stop where a million and ten other people were waiting.

“Southern hospitality, my ass.” Blythe mumbled under her breath.

I belly laughed. Nothing bothered her more than rude people. “He was a bit of a prick, wasn’t he?”

“Such an asshat.”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her to my side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you.”

She looked up at me, clearly caught off guard, “That was random.”

“It’s never random regarding my love for you.”

“Eww.” She bit her bottom lip, fighting back a wide smile. “You’re a cheese ball.”

I could tell she didn’t mind. “You’d be bored without me.”

“That is not an incorrect statement.” Blythe turned her attention to the approaching trolley. “Ah! There it is!”

The white, old-timey trolley pulled up in front of us, and the people aboard exited. These people moved at a snail’s pace and took no less than ten minutes to disembark.

“How long is this tour?” I glanced down at my watch, keenly watching the time.

“I think they said an hour.” Blythe could read my face, “Don’t worry, we will have plenty of time to do everything you wanted before dinner.”

She grabbed my hand as we waited for our turn to board. Is this my version of fun? Hell no, but I would do anything for her.

We rode up and down the streets, occasionally stopping to look at a Christmas tree or old building. That’s one thing I will give the South—sometimes it’s seventy degrees in December, and other days it’s forty. Today, it was mid-sixties. For me, this is normal. I was born and raised in Wippowa and never left. For Blythe, who spent almost thirty years in Seattle, she was completely thrown off her game.

“Oh my gosh! Did you see that snowman?” Blythe smacked my arm, snapping me out of my daze.

“Which one?”

She pointed to the snowman on our left, which was made of seashells. “Wren would think that’s just the coolest thing.”

I reached into my pocket for my phone to snap a picture for my kid.

Blythe pushed my hand away, and her eyes were glowing. “I’m already on photographer duty. Step aside, amateur.” She nudged my shoulder.

That’s when I noticed she was snapping away furiously. “If Wren can’t be here to see this, I’ll show her all these pictures tomorrow. She’s going to love it!”

The way Blythe thinks about Wren every hour of every day melts me. This woman didn’t want kids yet she is the best mom. Everything came so naturally to her.