“Are you ready to go back?”
I gave the question some thought. Part of me was ready to get back home and see family and friends again. I especially missed Felicia, since we talked on an almost daily basis at home. And part of me was ready to go back to work. I knew I didn’t have to work. Nathaniel had told me I could quit when and if I wanted to. But I enjoyed my work and the people at the library, plus I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if I didn’t work. I’m sure I could stay busy, but for the time being, it would be nice working and knowing I could quit if I wanted to.
Another part of me, though, was enjoying my time with Nathaniel and I knew when we returned home, he’d be busy catching up with his own work. I knew how demanding that would be. Our time together would probably be drastically reduced. I most certainly was not looking forward to that. A downside to marrying such a successful businessman was that I had to share him with too many damn people.
“I’m torn,” I said in answer to his question. “I’m ready to get back home in order to see people and even get back to work. But I know you’ll be extremely busy and I won’t be able to see you that much. I’ve enjoyed having you all to myself for the last two weeks.”
“I feel the same. Torn.” He reached over and took my hand. “But I promise you that business will never come before you and our marriage. I’ve known too many men who have ruined their lives by treating work as the most important part of it, and I vow not to do that. In fact,” he smiled, “I give you permission to kick my ass if I ever get my priorities out of whack.”
I snorted. “Like I need your permission to do that.”
“True, I’d expect you to kick my ass. Permission or not.”
“Your dad wasn’t like that was he?” I asked almost hesitantly. He didn’t talk about his parents often, but his prior statement made me curious.
Surprisingly, he didn’t even pause before answering. “No, he definitely had his priorities straight. Always took time for family. Never missed an event that was important to me. And I remember he and Mom would go off on their own without me for a week or so, several times a year.”
“Sounds like he was a good role model.”
“He was. It goes without saying, but I hate that he died so young.” He looked down at his wedding band. The one that had been his father’s. “He had so much left to teach me.”
I placed my hand over his. “I think he taught you a lot and I’m sure he’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”
“Thank you.” He leaned over and kissed me gently. “I wish they could have met you.”
He’d said as much before. Since my mother had died when I was an adult, I couldn’t imagine not having her with me while I was growing up. “I wish I could have met them, too. But you know, I see glimpses of them in you.”
He sighed and put an arm around me. “I’d like to think that’s true.”We sat for a few minutes, wrapped in our own thoughts and watching the snow fall softly outside.
“It’s so beautiful here,” I said, breaking the silence.
“Quite a bit different from New York.”
“I couldn’t live away from the city, but I really like it here. It’s so different, even from the estate.”
I’d really grown attached to the chalet in the last week, and the village had its own charm. I especially liked the no-car rule. And how many other places could you visit where you could ski across borders?
“And the food is outstanding,” he said.
“Yeah, especially the hot chocolate you make here.”
“I was just thinking about making some. Want a mug?”
“Sure, that sounds great.”
While he left for the kitchen, I walked over to the window and looked outside. It suddenly hit me hard that we’d be leaving soon and that made me a bit sad. The chalet had been a haven for us and I knew I’d always remember the two weeks we’d spent here, both for the intimacy and pleasure we’d enjoyed and the insights I’d gained about my own nature.
We still hadn’t discussed my journal writing. I supposed we did have the long flight back. The jet would allow us plenty of time and privacy to talk.
“One hot chocolate and a special delivery for a Mrs. Abby West.”
I looked up to find him reentering the room carrying a tray holding two steaming mugs and an envelope with a silver bow.
“I got mail? Here? With a bow?” It didn’t make any sense.
“Technically, I put the bow on it.”