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contents, and her
car, were left to me. The balances of her bank accounts were split between
Midge and me.
    I saw Derek’s face. So did Martin, and he read on. “If Derek Wayne
Ridgeway, contests or protests anything, in any way, he will be excluded from
the will completely.”
    I know my mouth fell open. I was in shock, but Midge didn’t seem
surprised at all. The legal clerk had documents for Derek to sign and once he
did, he stormed out of the office. I couldn’t breathe, and I started to hiccup,
trying to catch my breath. Martin poured water for me and Midge hugged me
close. “She knew what she was doing,” she whispered in my ear as Mitchell
walked to the front of the room. Midge introduced him to Martin as I
regrouped.
    When we got ready to leave, Midge hugged Mitchell and said, “Stay with
her a while, Mitchell. She’ll say she’s OK, but I know her, later is when she’ll
need someone and she’ll be alone.”
“I’ll be whatever she needs.”
“I’ll be fine,” I protested.
    When we arrived back at my house, I invited him in, but I stressed to him,
“I’ll be fine. Really, I’m OK.”
“Listen, I brought work clothes, we don’t have to sleep together, I’ll sleep
in the spare room, but you might need someone to talk to, or a hug, or a
shoulder, later,” he said with a tender smile.
I rummaged through the cupboards and the freezer and made sausage
jambalaya for dinner. I liked it – Mitchell loved it. We cleaned up and Mitchell
went to shower. I went to check the sheets on the bed in the spare room. They
smelled fresh, like the Gain detergent I used, and I turned the bed down for
him. I was going to be strong and not sleep with him.
When I turned, I saw him standing in the doorway. He wore only a pair of
gym shorts; he hadn’t slipped the t-shirt over his head yet. The lines of his body
fascinated me. His hair was still wet, and I don’t know what the hell brought it
on, but I started to cry.
No. It wasn’t crying. I was bawling - body shaking, gut wrenching bawling.
I sat on the edge of the bed trying to get myself together doing that huh-huhhuh-can’t-breathe crying!
“Where in the hell did that come from?” I mumbled. “WHERE?” I
shouted, feeling completely out of control.
Mitchell pulled a t-shirt over his head and sat beside me. He took my hand,
placing it tenderly on my heart.
“Here,” he said. “It overflowed, I’m afraid.”
He pulled me close and I know I drenched his shirt in my tears and snot.
He didn’t seem to care. He just held me there and let me cry. I felt a soft kiss
on the top of my head that rocked my soul and brought the tears even harder.
His arms surrounded me in a hug.
I pulled away and rose to leave. “I’m going to bed,” I said, still blubbering.
He crawled in and pulled the covers up.
“Good night, Renie…”
I turned out the light and left. When I crawled in my bed, I cried into my
pillow for what seemed like hours. Finally, I saw the hall light come on and
when I looked, he was standing in the doorway, without the t-shirt.
Jesus, can a man look more beautiful than he does right now? I wondered, as I
scooted to the other side of the bed, saying nothing. He crawled in beside me,
holding me in his arms, spooning me as I cried.
n
    When the clock went off at six the next morning, I rolled over to find
Mitchell hugging the pillow, a vision so familiar to me that it made me smile.
He looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake him, but he stirred and rolled
toward me. As he did, I noticed a tattoo on his left bicep that I hadn’t seen
before. I reached to touch it, tracing the out line of a heart that had a jagged
tear through the middle, separating it in two halves.
“Mitchell?”
    “Hoping to fill it in someday, joining the two halves into one. Haven’t had
a reason why, yet.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I told him, “I’m gonna call out from
work today. I know when I go look in the mirror my eyes will