Page 60 of Because of Blake

Don’t even go there, Maggie.

I need to focus on the here and now. Blake and I have plenty of time left to be together. I can worry about the rest later.

On the Friday before the kids come back, in the late afternoon, Blake takes me to the lake, where he and Oscar go for walks. It’s a beautiful area filled with trees and tall grasses. The light from the low sun glimmers on the surface of the lake, and later, the sunset will turn everything orange and pink. Blake said he has a surprise for me, and I’m beyond excited to see what it is.

We walk for some time when Blake finally stops. “Here we are. My favorite spot.” He sets his backpack down and ties Oscar’s leash to a tree.

“It’s gorgeous,” I say, taking in the scenery.

“It sure is,” Blake says quietly. I turn to find him staring at me and not the lake.

I roll my eyes. “I was talking about the landscape.”

“I wasn’t.”

I turn back to the calm, serene water. “I can see why you like this spot so much. It’s pretty secluded and the view is breathtaking.”

“Yeah, it’s a great place to sketch, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I used to come here and draw. I’ve always loved doing it, and this place gave me inspiration.” The tone in his voice sounds sad as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” I furrow my brow. “I guess you did say you went to school for graphic design.”

“Well, the two don’t always go hand in hand. A knack for graphic design doesn’t mean you’re inherently good at other media.”

“Did you do those ones in your living room, though?”

He nods.

“Do you still do it?”

“No.” He looks at the ground, kicking at a rock. “I got too busy with life, and then I ran out of paper.”

I laugh. “Sort of a silly reason to stop.”“I guess I didn’t do it for so long, I lost sight of the joy. I lost my confidence, and never picked it back up.”

“Well, it’s never too late. You obviously have a gift if those drawings in your house are any indication.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His gaze lingers on his feet, his toe digging into the dirt. “I hung them there because I was proud of them, but now they remind me of what I gave up. I was thinking of taking them down.”

“Don’t. They’re beautiful. You’ll find the joy again one day, I’m sure of it.”

“Thanks.” Taking his hands from his pockets, he says, “You ready for your surprise?”

I bounce up and down on my toes. “Yes, please.”

Blake squats down and unzips the backpack. He removes a blanket, wrapped in which are two long-stemmed glasses and a bottle of wine. After spreading the blanket on the ground, he takes out five small Tupperware containers and two packages of plastic utensils.

“Ta da,” he says happily. “Romantic picnic for two… well, three.” He opens one of the containers and places it in front of Oscar, who gobbles up the food.

A smile of appreciation spreads across my face so quick I don’t even realize it’s there until Blake smiles back. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing special. Some grilled chicken for me, a hearty salad for you, and some garlic bread. But there’s wine.”

“It’s perfect.” I take a seat on the blanket.

“Bon appetit.”