Can you pull me in where you are?
Last night Jacob missed dinner for a meeting so I sat with the kids while they ate a good supper and then when he came home we took turns supervising baths and bedtimes and somehow forgot about eating entirely. He was so tense, holding his wings rigid, I could feel it even when he insists he's not.
I think he has no idea I know him as well as I do. But I do, and he should know that by now.
Jacob returned to full-on in-crisis mode (as if he is ever not in it) based on my magnificent freakout yesterday morning and so as is customary when he needs an extra hand he waits until he thinks I am asleep and then he'll walk down the street to the church and get an hour to himself to sort things out and pray and think and reflect and find positives.
To feel less alone.
Which breaks my heart.
He was off early last night because I was so wiped I fell asleep at nine and woke up fifteen minutes later when I heard him leave. When he returned to the house around 10:30, bearing a satchel full of paperwork to catch up on this weekend at home he found me wide awake in front of the fire, with a tray full of dinner for us, waiting for him. The beef pot pies I had made for him earlier, from his mother's recipe, before I went to pieces. And his silly 1892 traditional beer from back home in Newfoundland that he enjoys so much.
And an apology from me, for not holding my shit together any better.
He sat down and laughed for a good ten minutes before his eyes filled right up and he leaned over and kissed my sick pretty face and told me I'm impossible. I shook my head and stuck my lip out and he got very serious.
Oh, now, that won't work anymore here, princess.
Seriously?
Yes, seriously. But the way to my heart is on this plate. Wow.
Well, eat.
After you.
Fine. I took a bite.
Fuck! It's hot. I just burned my mouth.
Okay, so we'll wait for it to cool a bit. Since there's one other way to my heart for you.
He took the tray and moved it away and then he pulled me down and got a blanket and covered us both and I fought him out of his jeans and he pulled his sweater off and then my pajamas too and it was the first time ever he kept his shirt on while he made love to me. It was also the first time ever that he conducted the entire event without taking his eyes off mine. It was very hot and very intense and his voice was very deep and emotional when he told me he loved me over and over again. While his wings unfolded to surround us and the rest of our clothes were struggled out of.
We didn't bother putting anything back on afterward, instead snuggling up in the blanket together and taking our plates right off the trays to hold them while we ate. He loved the beer as a treat but what he loved more was how I found something positive and fun to salvage such a terrible and difficult day and this morning he asked if I would keep it up. That I am so sweet and fun and beautiful always but so very much more when I put my heart into it and he is restored by that.
Restored.
By me.
Because I did that. I salvaged the low, the day. I turned it and I tried to make it into something else. I succeeded and under this kind of pressure that makes everything better. By far.
