She thought of his words and the way he'd held her before he'd gone out. Unusual, yes, but she'd been in the middle of cooking his breakfast and planning for the children to come for dinner and it hadn't been enough to make her stop, to see that something was about to shift. Hank always came in, gave her a peck on the cheek, and said "Goin' to the garden." That morning, he'd come in and whisked her away from the stove, singing "Begin the Beguine" just like Sammy Davis, Jr. He'd danced her around the kitchen, dipping and swaying like they'd done so many times before. She'd laughed and told him to stop being so silly, she had breakfast to tend to. He'd stopped dancing, looked at her with so much light and love, he'd held her so tightly, and said "Hattie Mae, I love you, girl. You're my sweet, gentle mare." She'd hugged him to her, and whispered in his ear "I love you too, my darlin' monkey." Monkey had been a nickname she'd given him when they were younger. He'd always loved to climb things...trees, barns, and Hattie thought it fitting.

She stood a long time and gazed at her darling monkey, willing him to get up...to dance with her...to love her some more.