Thomas Hewitt: End Of The Line

Joy Of My Life

Ronnie began to stir when sunlight crept under her eyelids. She must have forgotten to close the curtains, she thought to herself as she slowly blinked the sleep out of her eyes. The numbers on the clock read seven-twenty A.M. It must have been one of those rare mornings where Penny had decided to let them sleep in, the house was quiet. She rolled over and let her eyes rest on her husband, who was still fast asleep beside her. A sleepy smile played on her lips as she gently rested a hand on his cheek, relishing in the warmth of his skin under her palm. A soft sigh whistled it's way through her nose when the old, but familiar feeling of butterflies took flight inside of her as she studied him. Even after so much time together the man still had the capability to make her blush like a school girl. His face was bare, just as she preferred it and she let her fingers trace each feature with a touch as light as a feather. She seldom got to study him so intricately anymore, life had a way of keeping them busy, even in the peace they'd found. She moved some of his dark curls back as she recalled a time she'd studied him once before, when the gentle giant sleeping beside her was hidden inside of a perfect stranger, one she never imagined she would come to love so completely. Oh, but she did, through each trial and every hardship. It continued to grow, even then as she let his soft snores fill her heart with the kind of comfort only Thomas Hewitt could give her. He didn't even have to try, yet everyday from the moment his feet hit the floor he persevered in his never ending pursuit to earn her. It was just his way and it was in him to do so, buried deep in those rough, calloused hands of his and in the steady rhythm of his hammer of a heart. The proof of his perseverance for her was in their journey, both within his childhood home and out. That night hadn't been the end of their hard times, but in comparison to what they'd come from, living out of a car for a few months with a newborn seemed easy as pie. They had used what gas was left in the old thing to get them out of Texas, then Thomas had made it his mission to get her to Santa Fe. Not a day went by that he didn't work until he was sore and more than just in his bones, but the ache from hard labor and sleeping in a car much too small for a man of his size never seemed to bother him. It never took the happiness he'd found away from him either, he held on to that tightly with strong arms. He lived off of her smile, her laughter and the kiss she'd save for him at the end of the day, though he always asked for more than just one and Ronnie happily obliged each chance she got. When he wasn't holding her, it was Penny he had wrapped up in his loving embrace. He couldn't get enough of her, she was his miracle, something that never failed to put a smile on his face even when she cried, which she did a lot of. She hadn't inherited her father's natural ability to stay quiet, but he didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, Ronnie had noticed he found it more comforting than anything. If she was making noise, she was breathing and that was all he cared about. He just wanted them safe and more importantly, alive. It wasn't until they had found a permanent place to dwell, one with locks on the doors, that some of his worries could be put to rest. He found work as a butcher in Tesuque, New Mexico, just outside of Santa Fe and once he'd proven himself to be the best there was at his craft, his boss decided to offer his hand in aid. He had a house in the hills, just about as old as the mountains surrounding it and in desperate need of repair that he entrusted to Thomas. It was something permanent, a home and he didn't hesitate to make it thus. He was just as attentive to it as he was to her, he gave it his all. He worked day and night until it was exactly how she had described it to him. Ronnie had long since forgotten the words she spoke in the basement, but they'd stuck with him. It was something he had to give her, just like the ring he'd bought to put on her finger shortly after they'd settled in. It was never dark, he made sure of that. It's walls were a far cry from the Hewitt house's dingy gray, instead it was painted white as was the fence he'd built to surround it. He built them the biggest bed he could fit in their bedroom and decorated it with a downy quilt to keep them warm when winters struck, along with plenty of pillows to match. He even made sure it had air conditioner, though unlike Texas, it wouldn't get nearly as much use there. Penny's room was something he'd taken pride in as well. It was a never ending work in progress that he tackled with a smile each chance he got. With a couple of coats of the lightest pink on the walls and a little white crib underneath the window, it looked fit for a princess. His latest addition would be a dollhouse. He hadn't finished building it yet, but it was already shaping up to be a perfect replica of the home he'd built for her. His hand and her words in every part of it, perfect in every way.