Knotted Roots - Part 14

Jane refused to leave me alone that night, she insisted that she stayed here. Everything was still moving in slow motion, delayed response and recognition to everything around me. Whenever Jane spoke, it was like my brain was attempting to translate the words before they made sense. I wandered the house, heavy footsteps thudding across the dry wooden floor. The endless memories framed and nailed to the walls. It was as if the home had lost a part of itself somehow. Wounded. “Jane, you needn’t worry yourself with me.” “Its better to be in a house of mourning, than a house of feasting.” “That doesn’t make sense. No one wants to feel this, no one should have to feel this!” My eyes trying to hold back the burning fiery from within. Surely she doesn’t want to experience my pain, my loss. The heaviness of it all was nearly suffocating! She should be enjoying a nice dinner, to be happy. Not here watching me drown in sorrow. Yet, it was comforting to have her around, and the best part with Jane was she carried no drama. The day seemed to have passed quickly, the sun was beginning to set off in the distance. That amber colored light trying to pierce into this gloomy home. I felt exhausted, as if I hadn’t slept in years. Jane had been sitting in an arm chair in the living room, while I sulked around the house. “Talk to me Jasper, you seem troubled.” Jane asked, her voice soft, a patient expression on her face. The way her eyes beamed with love, with life. I made my way back to the couch, sitting on its edge. “I don’t mean this in anyway towards you, Jane. But if I’m being honest, I feel abandoned.” Jane didn’t flinch, her smile steady across her lips. Her sundress is the only color in this dreary home. “Jasper, you’re never alone. Psalms 34:18 says, ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and crushed in spirit.’ God doesn’t forsake his children. I can’t say I know what you’re going through or how you’re feeling, but I know how to listen.” Jane’s smile was infectious to say the least, the way her heart broke seeing me broken, yet resilient and poised in the face of death itself, was bewildering and beautiful all the same. It caused a shift within me, a surge of emotion and something else I wasn’t sure I truly recognized. With what little strength I had left, I rose to my feet, making my way to the small record player Pa had. He hardly used it since Ma passed, at times even I forgot about it. We only ever used it in rare memorable moments. I knelt beside it, sifting through the shelf underneath it for a particular record. Ah! With a swipe, I brushed the dust off the cover revealing the famous Patsy Cline single. I sat the record on the platter, watching the needle of the stylus sit into the fine grooves of the record as it began to play. The familiar musical intro of the song bounced off of the walls. Without speaking, I stepped in front of Jane, reaching out my hand to her. She silently accepted the offer and we began to dance slowly, as the song “Crazy” played softly in the background. Jane rested her head against my chest, I resting my chin atop her head. It was my way of expressing how much I loved her, and how I wouldn’t blame her if she walked away, to be happier with someone else, anyone else. I kissed the top of her head a few times as we held each other closely. Swaying as the lyrics spoke what was on my mind, to allow Jane to understand my current mindstate. When the song ended, Jane leaned back that warm smile never fading from her face, her eyes warmer than ever. “I love your kind of crazy, Jasper Black.” My chest fluttering, my eyes, dark and desperate for her words to be true, “I love you, Jane.” I breathed the words heavily, my forehead resting against hers. That’s when she pulled me into a kiss. The kiss was soft, yet there was so much depth to it, a raw vulnerability to it. I kissed her back just as gently at first. My arms encircled her hips gently pulling her into my body. I clung to her warmth, to her loving kisses, as if they were healing a part of my brokenness. When we pulled away from one another, we were both a little breathless, and she had brought a smile, a life source back inside me. “It’s getting late.” I breathed, “When are you going to understand that I’m not going anywhere?” My eyes were stinging with tears that I was able to blink away. “Why don’t you try to take a warm shower, Jasper. It may do you some good.” Her loving concern for my wellbeing was appreciated and adored. I nodded and began the slow ascent to the second floor, Pa’s room haunting my conscience as I tried to ignore its emptiness. I entered the bathroom, shed the clothes from my back, and entered into the steamy shower. The hot running water, as if washing away all of the tears that had stained my cheeks and soothing the internal pain and anguish within me. Jane was right, I did need this. I wrapped the towel around my waist, steam disappearing from my hot skin as I entered my room, shocked to see Jane there, sitting on my bed. “Ahem.” Jane peeked over her shoulder and was shocked to see me in a towel, although I don’t believe she looked disappointed. “Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll just…” “Well I can’t say this isn’t a pleasant surprise.” I said, holding her gaze, her speechlessness was adorable. “I’ll just be leaving, so you can dress.” Jane tried not to stare at my chiseled frame, and the blush on her cheeks brought a broad smile to my weary face. Jane shut the door behind her, and I chuckled to myself. This was one of those moments when my thoughts of having Jane to myself were nearly obsessive, the way I could let her know what she does to me, and repay her with praise and pleasure. However, that dream would have to wait since we agreed to abstain from sexual desires and focus on our relationship emotionally. “It’s safe now!” I hollered, a loose shirt and sweatpants covering my body from her curious and admiring eyes. Jane couldn’t help but laugh at herself as she entered my room again. “I know I told you I didn’t need this, but I sure am glad to be spending tonight with you, Jane.” “Me too, Jasper.” Jane went to the edge of my bed, motioning me to sit next to her. As I sat beside her, she reached out her hand for me to take, and I did without hesitation. That warm smile grew a little larger as my hand filled hers, and then she bowed her head. I wasn’t sure what she was doing at first until she began to speak; she was praying. “Dear Lord, blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Lord, you know Jasper’s pain, his loss. I ask that you remain with him now and always, as he learns to live this life without Pa, but be steadfast, knowing you are always with him, guiding him. May your love and mercy fall upon him, and may you bring peace to his worried heart. Give him the courage to continue to live as you live within us. It is in your precious and holy name I pray, Jesus, amen.” A tear escaped, dwindling slowly down my cheek. I didn’t realize I had tensed up until I went to let go of Jane’s hand and pull her into another hug. I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like Jane, to receive love like this, but I wasn’t going to waste it. Not even Grace could calm the brewing storm within me. I pulled the quilted comforter back and slipped underneath and cuddled Jane. “I love you, Jane.” “I love you too, Jasper.” We both became subdued by exhaustion and fell asleep clinging to one another under the quilted comforter.