Come, Josephine

Chapter 25

   1927

The kitchen was heartily warm, so hot in fact, that steam rose off of our drying coats. Nick and I sat at the table, our shoulders warmed by thick, woollen blankets.
We had tried to resume conversation as usual, but something unspoken hung in the air between us. Not exactly uncomfortable, but certainly unusual.
"Nick?" I said, giving up on silence, "you know, I was only teasing you by the lake. Mamma already told me that I can't get married until I'm eighteen and it seems silly to be engaged before then."
Nick stared at the table between us, "honestly, I thought that I had made my feeling about you clear- I mean, I knew I had not been as clear as I should have been, but I didn't realise how not clear I had been, you know?"
I grinned, "you know, girls don't tease boys they aren't sure like them."
His eyes widened, "What? So you knew this whole time-"
"Of course I did- why else would you want to work on two farms at once? Nick, I'm not dense."
"So my intentions... are clear? Does Jack know?"
"Of course," I smiled, "Jack is the one who pointed it out."
He blushed deeply, "oh, God."
   I rose from my chair, suppressing my laughter. I went to kitchen counter and went about pouring out two cups of coffee. I passed one to Nick, and drank the other myself. I watched him over the rim of my mug, trying not to smile at the faux distraction written across it.
I tried not to look too amused, and finished my drink in silence. By the time I had, Nick had placed his cup down and gone about putting his coat back on.
"I should get back," he admitted, "my folks will be worried."
I said I understood, and walked with him back into the night. As he stepped off the porch, he turned around to face me. He rose his hands to my shoulders, hiking the blanket a little to high. It was pulled close around me, the wool coarse but warm.
I smiled down at him. Despite the harsh kiss of the fabric against my cheek, I tilted my head lower, closer to Nick.
   I let my hands fall to his coat and began buttoning it out of habit. He smiled, slightly soppy, up at me. I tried to disguise my pleasure in the simple, carful act of kindness. Nick huffed a sigh.
He reached up, his hands in my unbound hair. My hands fell limp. I leaned up, kissing me briefly; enough to warm me through, but not long enough for me to form a single thought. He pulled away a second later, walking off into the night.

I slipped into my room, shutting the door silently behind me. It was past midnight, yet I had just returned from my third trip to the barn that night. I had paced the isle a dozen times, telling myself that I was just restless from the coffee and nothing else. But how many times had I drunk coffee before bed?
   I tried to put the day's events out of my mind and focus on unwinding. The nighttime hours were already fleeting and sleep seemed less likely with every minute that passed.
   Jack always said that a poor night's sleep was never good for a person. Mamma supposed that he was right. And Nick- Nick would says that rest was important for the soul.
   I mustn't think about Nick.
   I scrambled to think of something, anything, else. The farm, yes, the farm. The horses, the cattle, and the barn across the yard which I had paced minutes earlier- and the trail that wrapped around the barn and the house, leading to the lake. The lake, that could be seen from the back porch...
   The dull thud of a window sash. Scrambling of feet. Wide eyes, shaking heads, eyes frantically searching for a way to communicate- running- lungs, burning- nearing trees- escape- the sharp stab of pain and the rattle of a gunshot. Legs with no strength- no feeling. The shock of impact through weary knees. Darkness. Cold, unyielding ground. Someone carrying me, limping, dragging themselves along. Crying in pain. Agony that crawls up the legs and sits on the chest. Nick- Nick-
   I awoke from the half-sleep with a sickening jolt. Months had elapsed, my leg had healed, and Nick could use his hand again. But I couldn't seem to unknot my insides. In came in waves, the grief of nearly loosing myself. Of nearly loosing Nick. He was my best friend in all honesty; I had always had mamma, and Jack was glorious company, but Nick was something else entirely. He wasn't simply company, but a part of me in some fundamental, vital way.
   If he were with me in that difficult, wrought moment, I supposed he would hold me close to him. Perhaps he would kiss my forehead, or hold my hand in his reassuring way. Perhaps if I wished hard enough, Nick would appear beside me.
   Being in love with a boy is one thing, but when he is your best friend as well; that is something else entirely.
   Thrilling, yes. That, and a comfort. But above all, it is terrifying to have so much dependence in one person.
   And to have already nearly lost him once.
   Dawn drew nearer, and I was still yet to sleep.