Dreaming in the Sun

I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t bear not to.

Living in D. C. is nothing like living in Vegas. I miss the pure heat of the sun. The way it beats down on you and makes your skin tingle. I miss the way the hot air caresses your skin, raising goose bumps along your arms and legs, and sending a shiver through your body.

Blake thinks I’m crazy.

But then, he’s from a naturally humid area. Warm, yes, but not truly hot, not unless the moisture factor is through the roof. He doesn’t get it.

But I do.

Having spent my childhood on the coast of Massachusetts, I know. I migrated to Nevada after having spent some time out that way, searching for something I was unable to find. I was almost twenty-two and looking for my sanity. I’d lost my husband and my child and thought about why and who and when, and not finding any answers. My friends, and fellow Army brats, Dusty and Andy, took me in and tried their best to help me out, but it was no use. So, instead, we hung out at Dusty’s place in Vegas, drank margaritas, soaked up the sun, and burnt our toes on the hot desert sand. Probably not the best way to ease my depression and heartache, but at that point, I was out of options.

I may not have been able to piece my heart back together at that point, but I was able to mend my aching soul. I attribute it to the healing powers of the desert, but my brother thinks I’m nuts.

That seems to be the general consensus these days.

So, here I am, eleven years later, and pregnant again. Back home for just a couple days. I begged for leave the moment my Cowboy told me he had a show here, in what has become my true home. Being with him here, in my much neglected home, was too much of a call to ignore. We were married here, in this house, in this beloved desert of mine. How could I not want to go?

He’s gone now, left early this morning. I’m alone, aside from Blake’s young son, Rory, who’s sound asleep in his crib. At last check, he had his stuffed bass tucked under his chin, thumb in his mouth. A perfect opportunity for a bit of ‘me time’, something I don’t get much of.

Excuse me while I stretch and yawn, this warmth always makes me sleepy. I’d better get up and slather on more sunscreen before I drift off. Rory will be up and eager again before too long, so I might as well enjoy the quiet and spend a bit more time dreaming in the sun.