At The Crossing

Chapter 3

"Love like that doesn’t go away. It’s here with us forever."

- The Best of Me, coming to theaters October 17

Chapter 3

Time, to many, is the enemy, and I should be among those who feel powerless against an ancient, unyielding force.

Tonight though, I understood a crucial difference.

Time isn’t the enemy.

It is simply an element of existence, a mechanism of a mysterious world.

The good or bad that comes from time isn’t from time itself but from what we do with it and what we allow to happen in those moments, may it be in a fraction of a second or an entire lifetime and anything in between.

With time, we could let something fade, wither and die.

Or we could nurture it with patience and passion until it transforms into something incredible.

Like Adam and I.

Like the old barn.

It was exactly where it used to be. The once medium-height evergreen trees that had sparingly outlined the immediate yard around it now nearly reached up to the pitch of the sloped roof, offering some privacy out in the open farmland. The grand Bishop house was about a mile up the hill, just on the other side of the creek where it moved a long time ago after a few years of getting badly flooded in the low-lying area.

The barn was still red but no longer chipped and weather-battered. Even in the low light, the matte paint glowed a deep, russet red. The side sheds now served as a covered and combined sunroom and patio lined with tall planters. The paddock doors were still there but they looked like they were permanently nailed shut, the cedar and black wrought iron frame giving them a modern flair. One side of the barn where the loft doors used to be were now mostly made up of glass windows which glowed with the warm, golden light of a few lamps left on inside.

It retained its country charm but it now looked warm and inviting. It wasn’t just a place for Adam to hole up in anymore whenever he wanted to be alone or spend time with me. It was now very much a home.

Years ago, he’d said he was going to live here someday and I’d just rolled my eyes and told him that it’d fall apart on his head first before that ever happened. I was wrong about so many things.

“It’s amazing what you’ve done with this place,” I said in an awed voice as I followed him inside.

My breath caught when more lamps flickered on, bathing the airy space in soft, golden light. The entire interior was lined in the warm, caramel tones of the cedar paneling, the two-story open space showing off its bare bones in full glory with a mix of wooden beams and bulkheads and metal supports. The central living space was very contemporary in its open concept. A huge stone fireplace was the centerpiece on the wall that also featured nearly a dozen, large glass windows. A thick rug defined the sitting area by the fireplace and a large, extra-plump, brown leather couch draped in several layers of wool wraps looked like heaven on a cold day when all you wanted was to read a book and sip a cup of tea. The kitchen was just right behind it, accessorized with high-end, industrial-grade appliances and a massive kitchen island with a dark granite countertop. On a cozy alcove just to the left of the kitchen was the dining area with a long, wooden table that could seat almost a dozen people. Everything exuded the rustic, comfortable feel of the laid-back country life but all its tasteful modern and functional touches added a certain urban signature to it that I did not expect from Adam at all. He was, in his very heart, a farm boy.

“I paid attention when we went out to dinner at all these interesting places when I came to see you in New York,” he said as he kicked off his boots by the door. During my first year in college, Adam took the long drive to and back just to see me at least once a month. It was a rebellious year for the both of us, both stubbornly trying to prove that we could conquer the odds. “I had an idea of what you liked—all these industrial conversions that mixed a lot of old and new.”