I cannot get enough of this couple. I own nothing and mean no harm. Please hit the little button and let me know your thoughts.
Driving had become her salvation. Miles behind the wheel, the windows down, and the music loud enough to drown out her thoughts; Julie had stuck to the asphalt as often as she could.
Too many minutes spent on Matt, his love, his loss, his pain; there were too many topics to choose from. So she drove away from them. Quietly she explained all of this to her Mom after she had asked where she kept disappearing to.
Thankfully her Mom had offered no protests, merely a request that she keep her cell phone charged and let none of her obligations slip. Neither request had been outlandish allowing Julie to comply with ease.
She would have done that and more to have her wheel time. As a Dillon transplant she had given no particular care about the quickest or slowest way around town and had little insight into the roads of the county at large. Given her travels in the weeks past Julie could easily say she knew the roads, every twist and shortcut, by heart.
There were days though, ones that snuck up on her, troubling her past the drive, the wind and the music. Today had spiraled into one of those days.
Frustrated at herself, her life, her choices, she drove; anxious to get somewhere growing angry with each mile that she had no clear destination.
Until she saw it, the familiar black of a beat up truck, and she knew where to go, the owner was a friendly face. Maybe that was what she needed.
Without hesitation she turned on her blinker and pulled off the road carefully, mindful of the dip of the shoulder. Turning off the engine she glanced at her reflection in the rearview, running her finger through her wind matted hair. She maybe nursing a broken heart, but she was a Taylor and had a streak of pride hardcoded into her DNA.
Content with her hair she opened the door smoothing out the jean skirt and pink tan top she had changed into after work. He still hadn't noticed her. His thoughts must have been far, far away not to have heard her approach.
Four steps away she called out her greeting, "Hey Tim."
33, always a favorite of her Father's and a onetime Taylor himself, turned and offered her a megawatt Tim Riggins smile. Julie rocked back on her heels, broken heart or nor, he was damn good-looking.
"Little Taylor," she blushed at the nickname she had sometimes hated; it had never bothered her coming from him.
"What brings you here," at a loss for an explanation she shrugged.
"Was wandering and saw your truck, what are you doing here?" the land sloped down in front of them, extending in a green wave into the horizon. The only obstruction was a weathered 'for sale' sign. Not an uncommon sight on the outskirts, as they were.
There was nothing unique or significant about the spot of land.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" Tim was looking out over the land again, Julie stepped closer, perhaps his view was different than hers had been, and "can't you just picture it."
Tim grabbed her arm, sliding his hand down until their fingers were entwined, "over there would be the entrance to the property, right where the road curves. There'd be a gate with one of those arch things over it."
Her eyes swung to where he pointed, her imagination, vivid as a writer's could only be, took flight over his words, "and the driveway would tale you up the rise and that's where the house would stand."
She had no idea what had gotten into him. In the past minute and a half he had spoken more words than she had ever heard him string together, and she absolutely enthralled.
They stood where the front door would be, he would point out various landmarks and what would go where. Every detail took shape in her mind and soon enough she was offering her own suggestions. He had raised an eyebrow at her first thoughts, solar panels, than shrugged, "why not. Put the Texas sun to use."
With a laugh she had gone on to describe the interior, two stories, with a wraparound porch, and fireplaces, "just because they are awesome."
Too soon the sun was setting and they shared a seat underneath the lone tree where the pool would go.
"That was fun Tim," he had relinquished her hand, his own playing with the grass between his knees, she missed the contact.
"Yeah, it kinda was," she still didn't know what had prompted his vision, but she believed in it, wholeheartedly.
"It's going to be great you know," he looked over at her as she waved out to the backyard, "when you build it."
His laughter was heavy, darker than what they had shared before, "It's bullshit Jules. Never gonna happen for me."
Her jaw dropped. How could he say that? He was Tim Riggins, "You're Tim Riggins," he looked over at her his surprise clear. She could sound every bit as forceful as her Father or as stubborn as her Mother when she wanted too.
"A little home improvement is too much for 33?" she teased.
Tim smirked, leaning to his right he nudged her shoulder, "there's nothing little about 33."
Julie choked out a laugh, knowing her cheeks were burning at the innuendo, "anyway," she cleared her throat, "it's not bullshit."
She had no idea where her conviction was coming from, but it felt good to have it, to be filled with something other than pain.
"You're going to build this house," their eyes met, there was something in his she couldn't understand, "and I want the first tour when it's done."
Tim said nothing. She looked away when the look in his eyes changed to something deeper, more confusing. His low chuckle was free of the dark, smooth and silky again, and she felt her muscles relax, "you're something else Jules."
No one said her name like that; no one.
Quiet enveloped them as the dark did. Sitting with him peacefully and calmly, her thoughts followed suit and for the first time in a long time she was at ease with herself.
Taylor women were seemingly susceptible to Tim; she had forgotten how good he had been with Gracie Belle. In his arms she had been less fussy, even her Aunt had been calmer, never mind her Mother would actually take a breath between words.
There was something about him.
From her pocket her phone dinged with an incoming message. Her Mother no doubt reminding her dinner was in thirty-five minutes. She answered back, mentioning Tim and her intention, "You're coming over for dinner."
It wasn't a question or an idea he could refute, she was simply not ready to part with his company. Rising she offered her hand, "Come on," he took it but didn't use her strength to stand, "you know how Mom is when we're late."
"Wouldn't want that," if he didn't let go of her hand right away, she didn't mind, he had nice hands.
They walked together back towards the road, with a squeeze Tim had her attention, "glad you stopped Jules," their eyes met, that look was faint but there only it didn't matter at this point; she was very glad she had found her way to him.