D.J. awakened early the next morning with the word in her head. It hung with her as she groggily sipped her first cup of coffee. She tried to push it back. She was sure it was all about the previous evening. It was about being in the wheat field. It was all about Scott. It was all about speaking unguarded and discovering that the earth didn’t shatter and neither did she. She’d simply gained a new perspective. Dew was as drowsy and bleary-eyed as she was herself. As his meal from the previous night remained untouched, D.J. highly suspected that Viv was overfeeding him on doggy treats. At least she knew that he wasn’t gorging on table scraps. In the shower with the hot water splashing down on her face, she allowed herself a little bit of nostalgic memory. Scott had been there for her and sympathized with her in a way that was not at all sexy. It had made her feel safe. It had made her feel whole. It had warmed her, satisfied her in a way that sex never did.
