He walked in from the hot
summer sun, his body wet
with the heat of August. His
jeans were dirty from the
soil where he worked in the
garden planting flowers as
I directed. He walked to
the table with a John Wayne
swagger and picked up his
tall glass of ice water that
was waiting.
To me, he was my hero. He
rescued me and made me
fall head over heels in love
with him, swagger and all.
And life is good.
