For the Record

Jared opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows to see what on earth Grace was talking about. Seeing her with her bare feet stuck in the sand, a little wry grin emerges but he shakes his head. "It's hard enough getting my shoes on without purposely taking them off." 

What he'd really like to do was take his shoes sand socks off, take Grace's hand and walk with her the length of the beach and back... at least once. Returning to his back, he chews the inside of his bottom lip. If it was anybody else, he'd just ignore them and be fine with it. But for some reason, he just couldn't ignore Grace. 

Sighing, he sits up again without saying anything and bends to reach his feet. Not being able to move his legs very well, it was a bit difficult, but he manages until his feet are bare. Scooting to the edge of the blanket, he pulls his knees up a little and lets his toes sink into the sand. Wriggling his toes, a new faint smile creases his lips and he gives Grace a sidelong glance. "It does feel kinda funny... I don't remember ever noticing before." 

Smirking, he reaches over and gives her shoulder a shove before looking back out at the water. "I'm gonna get you back, ya know. For this whole not letting me mope thing. It's just not fair."

To: Katie

From: Hunter

Paperwork sucks. Hang in there.

I'd offer to help but... I dont like it

either. :-p 

I better start getting ready for 

supper. Gonna take me a while 

since I gotta wash off all this...

paint. lol

I'll text ya goodnight later ;)

Her age didn't matter. Chad truly wasn't bothered by it at all. Rosalyn supposed she hadn't really thought it would bother him - she deemed him intelligent enough to have guessed she was younger than he. But seeing it in his letter confirmed it. Did... this mean he really did want to keep writing her? Truly? 

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Rosalyn's tummy does a little flip. She'd been surprised today, when Mick had again passed along a letter to her. Not as shocked as the first time, but she hadn't really been sure if Chad was going to keep writing or not. It... seemed he wanted to... right? Was she really that special? That no only would he shower her with affection while here, but that he'd also want to keep in touch over the miles? 

Continuing to read in the safety of her room, a smile spreads on her face. Even without a poem, his words were poetic. She would never want to hurt his heart either... did... did that mean they had each other's hearts? 

Looking at the pictures and reading about them, her smile only grows. 

"Rosalyn?" 

She jumps and stuffs everything under her pillow. "Yes, Mom?" she calls back. 

"I'm heading to the dining hall," Becky hollers up the stairs. 

"Yeah, okay." Rosalyn lets out her breath and retrieves the letter to scan it one more time before folding it carefully and gently returning it to its envelope. She would answer it later tonight... 

Dear Chad,

You're still a flirt... but I'm getting used to it. No, that's a lie. I don't ever want to get used to it, because I don't ever want to feel less than what I feel right now. I thought once you left, that would be it, and I would easily put you from my mind. Not so. I shouldn't admit that - it might give you a bigger head than you already have. But I guess I'm a sucker for romantic gestures and I can't pretend hearing from you again didn't put a smile on my face. No one knows why I suddenly like to hide away in my bedroom - I let them wonder. They don't need to know that I read and reread your letters or write and rewrite my responses. 

I loved the pictures - thank you so much. I feel as though I am there. It looks absolutely beautiful, and from the sounds of it, I'm sure Rocco is appreciative of your kind efforts. It would be fascinating to see you at work. I'd send you pictures of my work, but... you already know everything I do. And no - it hasn't changed since you left. Except I haven't had to sew anybody's buttons lately. Talk about a thrill I've been missing... 

I'm not completely sure what our correspondence means, but... for the record... our age difference doesn't matter to me either. I like you, and strange or not, there's a part of me that feels as though I've known you forever. Knowing you're a little older than me just doesn't make a difference. And for the record - neither does your past.

I need to close for now. It's getting late. But as I walk this letter to the mailbox, I'll pause and look up at the moon. Look at it for me too. And I'll smile. 

Rosalyn

Sealing the envelope, Rosalyn gives it a kiss before sliding off her bed and quietly padding through the house to make her way out into the dark.