Presently Perfect (Perfect #3)

by Alison G. Bailey

  I nipped at her earlobe.

  “Noah, I want you.”

  “God, I want you too, Tweet.” I moaned against her skin.

  “What?!”

  Two hands shoved hard on my chest, throwing me back against the seat of the car. My eyes shot open to a snarling Brooke.

  I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts to fall into place. “What?”

  “You called me Tweet!”

  Fuuuck me like a jackhammer!

  Jabbing at the button on her dashboard, she silenced the voice of Jason Wade. I had walked Brooke to her car after the party and got into the passenger’s seat. The car ran idle while we said goodbye. The emotions of the day along with Tweet disappearing from the party without a word to me, mixed with four beers, had my head foggy.

  Say something, dumbass.

  I raked my hands up my face and into my hair. “I’m sorry. It’s been a weird day with graduation and…”

  Think. Think. Think. I’m drunk!

  “I’m drunk.”

  “You didn’t drink that much,” she snapped.

  “I’m a pussy when it comes to alcohol, ask Travis. I’m like a little girl. A little girl wearing a bright pink tutu. It was a slupid stip of the tongue… a stupid slip of tongue.”

  With raised eyebrows, I gave Brooke the most innocent look I could manufacture.

  Her expression softened. “I’ll give you a pass this time.”

  “Thanks.”

  My hand reached for the door handle.

  “The offer still stands,” she said.

  Squinting my eyes, I looked at her, confused. “Offer?”

  She huffed. “To come back to my house. My parents are away for a few days.”

  “Brooke, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  Pushy much?

  “Um… because I’ve been drinking, and…” I stammered.

  “Noah, I’ve been wanting to have sex with you since the second week we met.”

  “Brooke…”

  Things with Brooke had gotten more intense over the past few weeks. There were several times during our make-out sessions when she wanted to go further, and they would have if I hadn’t stopped.

  “…we can talk about it later.”

  I reached for the door handle again when her words stopped me.

  “Is it because of her?” There was venom in her voice.

  My head fell back against the seat and I stared at the roof.

  “I’m not an idiot, Noah. I see the way y’all look at each other. Are you cheating on me with her?”

  “No. Tweet’s been in my life from day one. She’s my best friend,” I explained, my voice low.

  “Then what is it? I think it’s pretty obvious how I feel about you. I love you, Noah.” I felt her hand touch my bicep.

  Turning my head in Brooke’s direction, I said, “You don’t even know me that well. How can you love me?”

  “I don’t need to know specifics to know how I feel.”

  She waited patiently for me to say the three words back. As I looked into her hopeful eyes I wondered what made one person fall in love with another person. On paper Brooke made sense. She was smart, had goals, was pretty, wanted to make me happy and have a future with me. Everything was present and accounted for except for the most important thing. That intangible connection. That sweet spot, where the mystery of falling in love lies in wait until the right person comes into your life. You can’t force it, predict it, or manipulate it. It’s what trips your heart for the fall to begin. My heart was tripped eighteen years ago and had been falling ever since.

  “Can we talk about this later when my head is clear, please?”

  She stared at me blankly for a few seconds before shifting in her seat and placing her hands on the steering wheel. Without another word, I got out of the car and she drove away.

  I cared about Brooke and part of me wished I could love her. It certainly would make my life easier. But easy was just easy, it didn’t make something worth it.

  My head was telling me to go home and think about my relationship with Brooke. I could put her off for only so long. She was going to want to continue the conversation we started tonight at some point. Instead, I pulled out my phone and ended the day like I wanted, listening to my heart.

  Me: Our spot. Now. Come alone. I want you all to myself. ;)

  Tweet: You’re not the boss of me. I’ll come when I’m good & ready.

  Several seconds went by before my phone chimed.

  Tweet: See you in a sec. ;)

  A sigh of relief mixed with excitement ran through me. I thought Tweet was mad at me from the way she disappeared tonight without saying goodbye. I couldn’t wait to be alone with her and give her the graduation gift I’d been holding on to for the past months.

  I grabbed the gift from my truck and headed to our spot. As I sat looking out across the pond waiting for Tweet, my mind drifted over the happy memories we shared of this place—her excitement when I gave her the tickets to our first concert, our first date, and our first kiss. We’ve spent so much time here talking about everything and nothing at all, sharing our dreams, our fears, and now a new chapter in our lives. Tweet’s sentimentality was rubbing off on me.

  The crunching of the gravel around the picnic area let me know my girl had finally arrived.

  After several seconds when she didn’t come any closer, I teased, “Are you going to come and sit down or look at my back the entire night?”

  “Quit your bitchin,” she said, rounding the table and sitting by my side.

  We automatically took our positions—fingers laced together, bodies huddled close, Tweet’s head on my shoulder.

  “Where’d you run off to earlier?” My cheek rested on top of her head.

  “I didn’t run off. The party was winding down, I was tired, and so I went home,” she said.

  “You left without saying anything to me. I thought you were mad at me.”

  “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “I don’t know. I was just disappointed when I realized you’d left.” I squeezed her hand slightly.

  “Well, you seemed to have had your hands full.”

  The corners of my lips curled up slightly.

  “By the way, you guys were a bit much, don’t you think? I mean, jeez, get a room.”

  “We did.”

  I thought my tone was teasing, but apparently I missed the mark in a big way. Lifting her head off my shoulder, Tweet jerked her hand from mine and leaned away.

  “Don’t joke about something like that with me.” Her lips flattened into a straight line, as teal eyes with a hint of green glared at me.

  “Are you jealous?” It came out more sarcastically than intended.

  The wheels were spinning in her beautiful head, trying to decide the appropriate response. Would she go the angry or smartass route?

  “Brooke’s nickname for you is stupid.” There was a sneer on her face, but her tone was smartass.

  That’s my girl.

  I smirked. “I know. And, you are so damn cute when you’re jealous.”

  “It’s lame. In fact, after I got through being embarrassed for you, I felt sorry for you, and then I threw up.” She held eye contact.

  Damn, she made me happy.

  Placing my hand over my heart, I said, “Oh baby, you’ve just gone from damn cute to smokin’ hot.”

  “Bastard.” She forced the corners of her lips to stay down.

  “I love when you talk dirty to me. Say something else.”

  “Asshole.”

  I let a long deep moan slowly float from my mouth. “Oooh yeah. That’s the ticket.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” she said.

  “And you are beautiful.”

  Tweet shook her head and gave me an exaggerated eye roll before turning away in an attempt to hide the smile that was beginning to break across her lips.

  “Now that all that’s out of the way, it’s gift time
.” I clapped my hands, rubbing my palms together. “Me first.”

  Shifting to the side, I reached into my front pocket and pulled out the dark blue velvet heart-shaped box with a white ribbon. She looked stunned and confused.

  “Um… I think you brought me Brooke’s gift by mistake.”

  “I brought the right gift to the right girl. Take it.” I held it closer to her.

  She glanced down at it, then back up to me, then back down to the box before finally reaching out for it. She stared at it for several seconds as if she were in a trance.

  “Open it Tweet. It won’t bite you.” I gave her a slight smile.

  Slowly, she untied the ribbon and lifted the top of the hinged box. The tips of her fingers gently touched the gold feather charm necklace. She looked up at me with tears running down her face.

  Nailed it!

  “I can take it back if you don’t like it.” I winked.

  Her voice was shaky when she said, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’re not going to touch it except to put it on me.”

  Tweet handed over the necklace and twisted her body slightly away. I removed it from the box and brought it around her neck. My mouth was an inch away from her ear. I could feel the heat radiating off of her skin. Gathering her hair in one hand, she held it up and I clasped my gift around her.

  “You’ll always be my number-one girl. Congratulations, Tweet,” I whispered.

  Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. I heard the thud deep in the back of her throat as she took several hard swallows.

  “Thank you, Noah. I’m never going to take it off,” she choked out.

  Tweet turned back around and our eyes locked for a few seconds before she handed me my gift.

  As I tore through the wrapping paper, Tweet anxiously said, “I hope you like it.”

  I opened the box and couldn’t believe what I saw. It was a chain attached to a ballpark dog tag. I’d been wanting one for a long time. It was made from a piece of the original stadium seats.

  “Fenway, isn’t it?”

  The biggest smile appeared across her face as she nodded. “It has it written on the back.”

  I flipped it over to read the words. I was completely speechless. Tweet knew nothing about baseball even though she had come to every one of my games since we were kids. She always complained that it was too hard to remember all the rules. But she remembered Fenway. She didn’t just go to a sports store and tell a salesperson to give her something a baseball fan would like.

  She remembered how special Fenway was to me.

  I pulled the chain over my head. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I scooted her closer to me, her head resting on my chest.

  “I love it. Thank you, Tweet. I can’t believe you remembered Fenway was my favorite. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” I placed a kiss on the top of her head.

  We sat there for a long time in silence just holding each other. It was the perfect end to this chapter in our lives—just me, my girl, and our spot.

  There was nothing different or special about the day when it started, just the typical morning routine. I got up early, went for a run, showered, dressed, and sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Mom put the last glass in the cabinet after unloading the dishwasher and then she’d be off to work. Dad walked in, already dressed in his suit, grabbed his travel mug, and filled it with coffee. As he passed by Mom, he placed his hand low on her back and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Noah, did you get a chance to ask your supervisor about getting off next month for the trip to Fenway?” Dad said.

  “Yes sir. He said it would be fine and already put the dates on the schedule.”

  “Good deal. I’ll check on flights when I get home tonight. I was afraid we wouldn’t get to go this year with you working at the hospital and getting ready for college. I know life will get busy, but I’d like to keep this tradition going as long as possible.”

  “Me too, Dad.”

  I could see the pride in his face as he smiled down at me. My dad was a good man. If I developed into half the man he was, that’d be pretty awesome.

  Patting my shoulder, he looked toward my mom and said, “Hey good lookin’, your car’s blocking me in.”

  “Sorry, I’m leaving now. I’ll walk out with you,” Mom said, grabbing her purse.

  She walked over to me and kissed the top of my head.

  “The dishwasher is empty, so when you’re done, bowl goes in the dishwasher.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “And if you get home before me, there’s a chicken casserole in the fridge. It’d be great if you’d put it in the oven.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “At three hundred fifty degrees.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Now that the boy has all his instructions, can we go?” The corner of Dad’s lip quirked up in a smirk.

  “Right after I grab my sweater,” Mom replied as she rushed down the hallway.

  “It’s ninety degrees outside, why do you need a sweater?” Dad chuckled.

  “It gets cold in the office.”

  Turning back to me he said, “By the way, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you forgot to put that casserole in the oven. There’s always pizza.” He winked.

  “Ready to go,” Mom hollered as she went out the door.

  “Women, wouldn’t want to live without them.” He picked up his briefcase. “Have a good day at work, buddy. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  I’d gotten a summer job as a transporter at Medical University of South Carolina hospital. I took patients for tests, therapy, or to their cars after discharge. I’d be attending the university once I earned my undergrad degree. This job was an opportunity to meet staff and learn the hospital. It also gave me some insight into what my life would be like for the next several years with classes and residency.

  I was pushing a new mom and her twin boys in a wheelchair through the lobby of the hospital. The new dad walked slightly ahead of us, arms draped with two car seats and bags of baby stuff, his hands full of flowers and balloons.

  “Mr. Burgess, you can go ahead and get the car, just pull up right in front of the door,” I told the already frazzled-looking guy.

  “That’d be great. Thanks.” He looked down at his new family. “Honey, I’ll be right back.” He picked up speed then finally disappeared out the front exit.

  As I continued to head toward the door, I glanced down at the tiny heads peeking out from under the blankets. I couldn’t help the smile that broke across my face as I thought how great it would be to have a son or daughter one day… way in the future.

  I rolled Mrs. Burgess and the little dudes outside. Mr. Burgess made it to his car and waited for an ambulance to pass before he could drive up to us. After fifteen minutes of the dad checking and rechecking the security of the baby seats, the new family was on their way home.

  Before heading back upstairs, I pulled my phone out of the front pocket of my scrubs to check for any messages. I always kept it on silent while at work, but checked it during the day. I scrolled through my texts. The first two were from Travis, one asking me to hang out tonight and the other his usual sex position of the day picture.

  Delete.

  I felt a slight tremble in my stomach when I saw the next name listed. There were at least five missed calls and texts. I’d stopped scrolling to open the first one that had been sent a little over fifteen minutes ago.

  Mrs. Kelly: Come to the ER.

  I had to read it twice before the words registered.

  Why would Tweet’s mom be texting me?

  My legs moved on their own in the direction of the emergency room. My hands shook as I called Mrs. Kelly back.

  Straight to voicemail.

  I pulled up my mom’s number and pressed Call.

  Straight to voicemail.

  My dad’s number was next.

  Straight to voicemail
.

  Mr. Kelly’s number—called.

  Straight to voicemail.

  Why the fuck wasn’t anyone answering their phones?!

  I tried to stay calm, but the thought of Tweet being hurt was too overwhelming. It became harder and harder to take in a deep breath. I was lightheaded and overheated. I rushed across the hospital, cutting each corner sharp as I navigated the maze of hallways.

  I finally made it to the ER. Judy, the admit clerk, saw me coming and directed me to Room 10. Without stopping, I sprinted the rest of the way down the hall and around the corner. Doctors and nurses hovered just outside the room. When they saw me coming they parted like the Red Sea. I got to the door and froze.

  My dad was on a stretcher lying flat on his back, his arms straight by his side, with a white sheet covering him to mid-chest. My mom stood on the other side of the stretcher. Tears poured down her face as her chest heaved uncontrollably. She brought a trembling hand up and gently stroked the side of Dad’s face. Leaning down, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead, then over each eyelid, then each cheek, finally placing a lingering one on his lips.

  My gaze swung up, landing on Mrs. Kelly standing in the far corner of the room. Her face drenched in tears, her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to quiet her sobs. It was like watching a silent horror movie. When my mom straightened, the bright fluorescent light beamed down on my dad’s face. It was relaxed and lifeless.

  Memories of when my grandmother died flooded my mind. She was the only grandparent I ever knew. Both my mom’s parents and my grandfather had passed away when I was still a baby. When Grandma died I was eight years old and scared beyond belief to go to her funeral.

  “Dad, I don’t wanna go today.”

  “Noah, there’s nothing to be scared of. You’re a strong boy and I’ll be right by your side, buddy,” Dad said as he straightened my tie.

  It was the first time I wore a complete suit with a jacket and tie. The collar of my shirt made my neck itch and the tie felt like it was choking me, so I kept tugging on it.

  I twisted my head back and forth, trying to loosen the chokehold the collar had on my throat. “What’s she going to look like?”