Blue

by Sarah Jayne Carr

  The smell of fresh bread.

  The warm ambience.

  The sensation of it being home.

  It was Thursday and the lunch rush had already subsided. Outside of a woman at the salad bar contemplating two types of lettuce, the restaurant was nearly void of customers. Everyone was probably still in a pancake coma.

  “Can I help you?” Lyndsie asked as she absentmindedly stacked a pile of glossy menus that’d slid catawampus across the counter.

  “Two, please.” Adam laced his fingers through mine.

  “Great. I’ll show you to a…” She looked up at us, her mouth making a perfect circle in surprise. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Not on my shift. Huh-uh.”

  Adam laughed. “She and I have met our quota of arguing.”

  Lyndsie gave us both the stink eye and aimed the point of a cap-less ink pen in my direction. “If you two try to play musical chairs even once today, I’m gonna…”

  “We’ll behave. We promise,” Adam said with a laugh.

  “All right.” Lyndsie didn’t look convinced or amused while she led us over to the same booth we’d sat at a few days prior. Instead of sitting across from me, Adam slid across the bench next to me and rested his hand on my knee.

  “Do you two need a minute to look at the menu or should I poll any vegetables in the kitchen first?” Lyndsie’s irritation was disclosed when she set two glasses of water down harder than necessary.

  “We’ll share the lasagna,” Adam said.

  “Uh huh.” Lyndsie scooped the menus off the table and walked back to the kitchen.

  “What do you think her problem is?” he asked innocently.

  I sipped my water. “My money’s still betting on her spitting in our food.”

  “We’ll live in blissful ignorance and never know.”

  I slouched into the worn cushion of the booth and let out a long breath. “I don’t want to go back to California.”

  “Then don’t go,” he murmured in my ear as he rubbed my thigh. “Stay in Steele Falls. With me.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder, medicating myself in his warmth.

  “Do you know why I brought you here?” he asked.

  I smiled. “Because you love Italian food and are coming to grips with your torrid love affair for lasagna?”

  He shook his head left and right. “Not even close.”

  My tone took a serious turn. “Because this spot is the first place where you told me you loved me?”

  “No, but you’re getting warmer. That same night was the first time I realized you were my home. I envisioned us fifty, sixty years from then, gray and wrinkled. Sitting here for an early bird, senior citizen, discounted dinner. There was nothing I was surer of than that being our future. And then you left. My heart shattered, but I still loved you with each jagged piece. And I hated myself for that. For a long time.”

  I blinked and looked away.

  “I already told you, this date isn’t meant to make you sad. I need to get this off my chest. I’ve had two years, Blue. Two years to form words on how I felt with no one to express them to. You’ve got to understand that.”

  “No. I get it,” I replied. “And I deserve it.”

  “It’s not about deserving anything.” He scooted closer to me. “I—”

  Lyndsie interrupted with a plate of lasagna and two forks. “Need anything else? Crayons? Want me to pick a tune on the jukebox for musical chairs?”

  “I think we’re set,” he said.

  I poked at the lasagna, having trouble finding my appetite. Adam and I spent the rest of lunch continuing our game of catch up, but I didn’t remember a lot of what he said. I was too busy digesting every word he spoke before our food arrived.

  “There’s one more place I want to take you,” he said when he pulled into his driveway. Adam walked around to my side of the truck and opened the door for me again. “Mystery awaits.” He grabbed my hand and helped me out.

  The wind was more powerful down at the beach than it was in town, waves crashing loudly against the shore. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Hostile gray clouds fought to blanket the sky, combating the veil of autumn darkness. The storm had officially arrived.

  Adam’s house was nearly dark when we went inside. A lamp illuminated the corner of the living room, its shade still off-kilter from the night before. “I want to show you something.” He led me to the small enclosed deck he’d built off the back of the kitchen. With a flick of the lock, he slid the glass door open along its corresponding runner.

  “What’s this?” I looked around.

  A pile of throw pillows was situated on an oversized beanbag chair to the left with a couple of fluffy blankets folded neatly next to it. He walked around with a box of matches and lit a cluster of pillar candles. White wine chilled in a small cooler of ice next to two glasses.

  “You put this together for me?” I asked.

  He gestured with an empty hand. “Sit.”

  I sank down into the cushion and spun the bottle of wine so I could see the label. Feminine gold lettering curled impressively over a matte black background. “Cannon Bay. You remembered my favorite.”

  He picked up a corkscrew. “Do you know why I brought you here?”

  “This deck is where we had sex for the first time,” I replied.

  “While that’s true, it’s not why.” He smirked and sat down next to me. “I spent 278 nights sitting here, wondering if you were thinking about me. That was a lonely road, Blue. My home,” he motioned between us, “had to be rebuilt.”

  I stroked thick fringe on the edge of a fleece blanket. “Working construction is more fitting for you than I originally thought.”

  “I racked my brain for anything rational. Did I hit her? Did I cheat on her? Did I lie to her? I even wondered if I pressured you after the whole thing with…We didn’t have sex for two months after that. I was patient until you were ready again. But every question I asked myself…the answers were all a resounding ‘no’.”

  I hung my head. “You should’ve known better. It had nothing to do with you.”

  “Except for everything.” He dug it into the cork and spun the point deep into it, the firm tug resulting in a blunt pop.

  The starless sky caught my attention. “Do you think Madelyn’s looking down here? And she’s finally happy now?”

  Adam set down the corkscrew on the table and looked thoughtful. “I believe she’s at peace, and she wants you to be happy. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

  I drew my knees to my chest, my nose burning as I fought back tears.

  “But this date is about us. Can you grab that tin for me?” He nodded toward a lidless canister on the ground.

  I picked it up and looked at the faded label advertising a local coffee brand. “What’s this for?” A large pile of miniature folded papers rattled against the bottom when I jostled it. If I had to guess, there were over one hundred of them inside.

  “Something I found on Pinterest after you fell asleep last night. We’re going to watch the storm, drink wine, and play a game.”

  “Wait. You’ve been hanging out on Pinterest?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m secure enough in my masculinity to ignore the look on your face right now.” Resting his forearms on his knees, he looked into my eyes. “I want us to know each other again.” He motioned for me to reach into the tin. “No peeking. Just pick and read it out loud.”

  Reluctantly, I scrunched my eyes shut and fished for one, unfolding it while he poured two glasses of wine. The typewritten font said, “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “It hasn’t changed.” He smiled.

  I giggled. “Still Dirty Dancing, huh?”

  “It’s a classic! But if anyone else asks, I’ll deny it and say Gladiator or Fight Club.”
He reached in the tin and grabbed a piece of paper, opening it carefully. “What’s your most embarrassing moment in the past year?”

  “Really? You get an easy movie question and I get this?” I covered my face. “Do I have to?”

  “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

  I peeked through my fingers and shot him a glare.

  “Okay, so maybe I made these rules. But, it’s what the game gods want.” Adam flashed me the half-smile I couldn’t resist. “Come on. It’s probably not that bad.”

  Without being able to look at him, I told the story of Trixie Taylor’s erotica in Lucy’s e-reader at the coffee shop.

  Adam exploded with laughter until tears rolled down his face.

  “It’s not funny!” I socked him in the arm playfully and reached into the tin, pausing. “Do you know how hard it is to walk in there after everyone’s heard purse porn?”

  He bit his lip to stifle his chuckle. “No doubt.”

  I didn’t bother reading the words as I looked up at him. “How many people have you dated since I left?”

  His brow furrowed. “That’s not one of the questions I printed out.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Game gods want what they want.”

  He pursed his lips.

  “Hey, if you don’t want to play.” I made a move, pretending I’d stand up.

  “Sit back down, spoilsport,” he jested.

  I settled back into my seat with my wine.

  “Four,” he replied.

  The number stung. It shouldn’t have. I had no right to feel a pang of jealousy, especially with Cash under my belt. The thought of Adam being with anyone else bothered me more than I realized it would.

  “None of them lasted more than one or two dates though,” he continued. “The shoes were too large to fill. Go again.” He nodded toward the tin. “Your cheat question didn’t count.”

  “What’s your first memory?” I’d made the mistake of reading it aloud before thinking. My mouth slipped into a distinct frown as I crumpled the latest paper. “You don’t have to answer that. I’ll pick a different one.”

  He touched my arm to stop me. After a considerable wait, he spoke. “It was Christmas, and I was four. My family didn’t do the normal holiday stuff. No tree. No stockings. No presents. No Santa. The only reason I knew it was December 25th was because my grandpa came over with a new green bike, complete with a giant, red bow. Training wheels. Neon-colored beads on the spokes. I’d never seen anything like it.” Adam smiled fleetingly, and then it fell from his face. “After he left, my mom called the neighbor who lived in the apartment above us, a fellow heroin junkie. There was a knock at the door, and an exchange was made. Christmas lost its appeal after that.”

  My heart sank. “Wait. She traded your bike for drugs?”

  “Sure did.” Adam nodded, taking a drink from his wine glass. “Merry Christmas, huh?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that story before?” I asked. Adam’s first memory was a terrible one.

  “I wrote off that part of my life, a long time ago.” He reached for a question and unfolded it. “If you could be a superhero, what would your power be?”

  I bit my lip in contemplative thought. “Can I have two?”

  “Game gods vote yes.”

  “I’d be able to heal.” I fingered over the etching on the wine glass. “And go back in time to fix what I broke.” I forced out a deep breath to ward off the tears and leaned in for another piece of paper. “If you could have anything right now, what would it be?”

  He looked into my eyes, his head barely moving left and right. “She’s sitting next to me.”

  That moment was heavier than most. More and more each day, I wondered what I’d done to deserve him and why I’d ever left in the first place. Blue Brennan was a fool. I set down my glass and stood up, using the scenery outside as a distraction.

  A flicker of fear spanned his face. “Are you leaving?”

  “No.” I broke my gaze from the ocean as a bolt of lightning flashed and thunder boomed overhead. My heart overflowed with emotion, ready to burst. It was a sensation that’d been foreign to me for so long. It was all-consuming. I crossed my arms at the waist and lifted the fuzzy, pink sweatshirt over my head slowly. “I’m going to fix what I broke. Superpowers may not be involved, but I won’t stop until I succeed. 278 nights will be repaired, one at a time.”

  “That’s a tall order.” A smile lifted at the corners of his mouth. “How are you going to do that?”

  “Do you trust me?” I walked over and sat down in front of him, sliding my hands up the material of his jeans before unfastening the button.

  He didn’t answer immediately. The apprehension behind his eyes was undeniable, and it killed me to know I’d ever given him any sense of doubt. Reluctantly, he offered me a faint nod. “I’m trying.”

  “It’s my turn for a while. Let me be the one to try.”

  His eyes locked with mine as I unzipped his jeans and hooked my fingers over the waist, tugging lightly.

  He lifted his hips a few inches while I pulled his pants and boxers free.

  With a devious smile, I pushed myself to my knees. His sharp intake of breath was followed by a low moan when I took action with my mouth. Adam’s body tensed. I went deeper, his hand wound through my hair while his hips responded to my movements. It might’ve taken the rest of my life, but I was determined to right my wrongs.

  Another boom of thunder and flash of lightning commenced, causing the lights to flicker and then extinguish. It didn’t matter. Adam and I didn’t need electricity for what I’d planned.

  The rest of that night was spent on the deck during the severe rainstorm, my focus on ensuring he erased the number 278 from his memory. For good.

  * * *

  The next morning, I felt a gentle kiss on my forehead. Somehow, I’d ended up in Adam’s bed without knowing how I got there. Wind gusts wailed as they whipped the house, the siding groaning from the force.

  “Hang out here today,” he whispered. “That storm’s still violent.”

  “What about you?” I mumbled with one unopened eye. “Stay?”

  “Don’t tempt me. I doubt Ty would approve of me lying in bed with his niece all day.” He planted a kiss on my nose. “I’ll be back before six.”

  “Okay,” I said dreamily, sleep fighting to conquer me again.

  A few minutes later, I heard the engine of his truck start, and my eyes half-opened, fixating on the battery-operated clock. What time is it? 7:56 a.m. His wallet rested on the nightstand.

  “Shit.” I threw on his sweat pants and a nearby shirt, dashing outside. “Wait! You left your…” his truck disappeared over the hill while I waved it high over my head, “wallet.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the cold, a forceful gust of icy wind bullying me along to the front door.

  I flopped down on the couch and dialed Adam’s cell.

  After three rings, the line opened.

  “Miss me already?” he asked.

  “That’s beside the point. You forgot your wallet.”

  “Great,” he said. “I’m already late. Should’ve left twenty minutes ago, but I was distracted by a beautiful woman in my bed.” A sigh. “I’ll survive without it.”

  “You sure you don’t need me to bring it to you?” I asked.

  “No. I don’t want you driving around in this wind. Besides, the brakes are nearly shot on the old rust-bucket in the driveway,” he replied. “But, I’m going to say something before we hang up. I love—”

  “No! Not now,” I exclaimed. “Don’t finish that phrase.”

  There was hollowness behind his voice. “Why not?”

  “Not until you’re here tonight. I want it to be in-person.”

  He let
out a sigh. “But…”

  “Please? It’s important to me.”

  “Fine. You know, I forgot how stubborn you are.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said smugly. “See you tonight?”

  “Nothing can keep me away,” he replied before hanging up.

  The call ended at the same time the power returned. I settled back against the couch, wondering how I’d occupy myself all day. It was night two of 278. There was planning to be done.

  I grabbed my cell phone and ran a few Google searches. Success. I dialed a local number and waited for someone to pick up.

  “Beachside Bikes, Joey speaking,” a young voice said.

  “Hi, Joey. I’m looking for a bicycle for my…boyfriend,” I said. “It has to be green, and I need a giant, red bow for it.”

  A pause. “We got in the latest RacerRide late last week. I think it’s the only green model we’ve got in stock right now. Will that work?”

  The limited availability on my credit card tapped me on the shoulder, but I quickly waved away responsibility. I could figure it out later, and there was zero temptation to cash in the five million from Tom. “Sold. Oh! And do you have any of those neon-colored bead things for the spokes?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got ‘em. They’re usually for kids bikes though.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take those too.” Adam’s first memory would be rectified yet.

  “Great. Do you want me to hold it?” he asked. “I’d need a deposit since it’s the only one we’ve got in stock.”

  I thought to my lack of a car. “Is there any way you can deliver? I’m local and can pay in full over the phone.”

  “Not in this weather.” He laughed. “If it can wait until tomorrow, I can have someone drop it off in the morning after we open.”

  I smiled. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

  After finalizing the transaction, I set my cell on the table, impressed with my handiwork. One task down, a million to go. While I was in the shower, another idea came to me. Adam planned an important and meaningful date. One I’d never forget. It was time I did the same for him. I got dressed, pinned my hair up in a sloppy bun, and headed into the kitchen.