Evergreen

18

Songs: Hello Sunshine - Aretha Franklin, Sleep on the Floor - The Lumineers, Lonely - Noah Cyrus, Put your Head on my Shoulder - Paul Anka

The sunlight woke me up peaking through the leaves the tree house looked very charming in the morning light. She'd really made a home out of scraps and salvage, the layout of the place was a carpenters wet dream, she'd even made little sheltered rooms. The canopy was so thick here the rain didn't exactly reach her hideaway, the canvas tarps stretched above definitely helped too. All I could think about was imagine if this was your hideout as a kid it would be awesome, maybe not so far up it's not baby proofed.

I think that was the best nights sleep I've had in years, I can't even remember the last time I saw a bean bag. Even if my back was paying for the choice this morning, it was still worth it. I didn't want to bring up what happened last night in the shower. She seemed so upset and freaked out at the end, had I done something wrong?

She's so hard to read, one minute I think I have her all figured out the next she's switching up her mood threatening to cut something off me. Talking to her is like getting blood out of a stone. Which probably would be a hidden talent of hers.

She still wouldn't tell me her name, that was freaking me out a little. Why was it such a secret? Would I know who she was? Or was it just part of the tough girl act?

Maybe I should start of today with a positive move, making breakfast. Yeah that would be a nice peace offering.

She'd organised the place into rooms like a house would be, accept the lack of walls and you know solid ground. It was decorated all hippie style, all these little trinkets and colourful hangings she would have been a farmers market, craft fair girl for sure. It broke up all the greenery which kind of made me feel better. Parting a macrame door hanging I made my way into her little kitchen, she wasn't awake yet. Well as far as I could tell, I wasn't going to go into her room until I had a plate of something.

Checking the wonky built cupboards and jars of preserves she was a little doomsday prepper, there had to be a least a hundred different types of jams, pickled veggies and stuff I didn't even recognise. My mom would have loved her on the farm, well aside from the fact that nothing was actually labeled which wasn't helpful. I lifted a knitted hat thing and BINGO eggs. Well they obviously weren't chicken eggs, but they'd do. She had a little camping stove made up so I took it upon myself to make her my special scrabbled eggs.

She had lots of different seasoning and spices so it was doable, I just needed a good milk substitute. After digging through her mountain of tins in crates, I found some tinned coconut milk, the label was faded... did this stuff go off? Cracking it open it still smelled sweet, I guess it was fine.

Plate ready and cup of coffee cooling here goes nothing, trying to be as soft footed as possible I entered her room. It was as cute as I thought it would be, colourful cuttings from magazines and random things she'd found on her travels. Dry flowers hanging from the ceiling, and wind chimes made out of coloured glass, they danced in the sunlight throwing colours all over the walls. As tough as she looked this place was absolutely and extension of her, it showed she had a creative streak, she was sentimental and a complete hoarder. Postcards and boxes of Vinyls she probably raided all the gift shops in California.

Placing the cup down on her make shift, fruit crate nightstand I sat down on the bed next to her, she was fast asleep. Her face looked so relaxed, her skin glowed in the morning sun and I noticed faint little freckles across her nose. With her signature scowl no where to be seen and her hair splayed out around her head like a halo. She was gorgeous.

I shook my head I can't be thinking like that, she's at least ten years younger than me early thirties max. She said she was unsure herself but I must be forty now, Rebecca was two years younger than me, we were married by 25.