HELPER12

fire, watching the very last of the sun fall into the ocean.  Soon, we’ll eat our fresh crab, and drink a little more wine and then we’ll walk, arm in arm, into our little beach hut.  And we’ll lie together in our big bed, and watch the stars from our skylight.
On one of our first nights here, Thomas turned to me in that bed, and he asked me if I was happy.  I didn’t know the answer, then.  I knew I loved Thomas, and Jobee, but I didn’t know what happiness felt like, not really.
The strains of Nyna’s evening flute drift over the dunes to our ears.  Thomas takes my glass and sets it on the porch with his, slides his arm around my waist, and kisses me.  Then he twirls me around, in a slow, gentle dance.  And I rest my head on his shoulder, to hide the tears that slip down my cheeks.  And I smile.  I am happy.  My life before this was spent feeling the fall, over and over again.  But now, here, in Thomas’s arms, I can finally feel the flight.