Love Notes

by Michelle Windsor

  Memories of us, of her life, of everyone she loves cover her walls as a reminder. I frown and wonder how hard that must be for her, knowing what she knows. Seeing the pictures of Tini reminds me that she never explained how my little girl knew I was her father, but now I might understand. “Is this how Justine knew I was her father?”

  I point to the pictures on the wall and then move to sit back down next to her, watching as she lifts her head up and down. “Uh-huh. But she wanted to know why her daddy wasn’t here like her other friends’ daddies, so I told her you were at work.” She slaps her hand over her face at the admission and groans. “It sounds so dumb, right? But what do you tell a three-year-old when you don’t even know the answer?”

  I laugh. “Honey, I’m home!” I spit out, trying to make light of the situation. I know I can’t change the choices we made in the past, but I can choose now to try to make the best of our future.

  “So, I guess I need to go check into a hotel. It’s getting late and you look tired.” I move to rise but falter when I see the stricken look on her face.

  “You’re leaving?”

  I settle back down and nod. “Well, yeah, but I’ll be back in the morning.” Did she really think I was leaving already?

  “You don’t have to go, Justin. You can stay here.” It comes out soft and unsure.

  My heart jumps in my chest at her invitation. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push too much too fast.”

  “I’m sure.” She stands. “I have a guest room. You can stay.”

  “Okay, I’d really like that.” I rise and tell her I need to go get my things from my car if I’m staying. She waits by the door as I gather my things and then shows me to a room, one door down from Tini’s, decorated in a pretty beach theme.

  “Kelly comes to visit a lot. She would have killed me if I made her sleep on the couch, so a three-bedroom house it was.” She shrugs, knowing that’s all the explanation needed on the subject. She points to a door at the very end of the hall. “That’s my room. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  I really want to stay up all night and talk to her. Ask her questions about what it was like when she was pregnant, if the delivery was hard, and if Tini was a good baby. I want to know when she got her first tooth, said her first word, and took her first step. And Sydney, has she dated anyone since me? Does she still throw random quotes out at strangers, and how does she sleep at night? I’d ask her about her books, but I’ve bought and read every one. There’s a lot of downtime on the road, and it was a way for me to feel closer to her.

  But, instead, I watch her walk down the hall, grace me with a small smile and wave before closing the bedroom door behind her, and I just feel thankful that I still have time to learn everything.

  * * *

  I STRIP out the clothes I’ve been wearing since this afternoon on the beach and then step into my shower, grateful to finally rinse the sand still sticking to my body in places. I think about the fact that Justin is here, in this house, twenty feet down the hall, and sigh, relief pouring over me that he stayed. I don’t care if it’s selfish, but now that he’s finally here, now that he finally knows about Tini and about me, I don’t want him to go.

  I’ve missed him. I’ve missed him every day for as long as I can remember. I shake away my conscience when it starts to niggle its way in, trying to remind me that it’s my own fault that he wasn’t here for the last four years and push it away. I promised myself that I wasn’t going to dwell on the mistakes I’ve made and just focus on today; the here and now.

  I finish rinsing off, step out of the shower, dry off, and patter into my bedroom. I take my night shirt from the hook in my closet and slide it over my body, the material worn and soft with age, and then slip a pair of panties on. I pull back the covers on my large, king-size bed and slide between the cool cotton sheets. It’s early, just after nine, but these days, I go to bed early, trying to get as much rest as I can, hoping to keep my energy levels up.

  Instead of falling asleep, I toss and turn, flip this way and that, throw the covers off and then pull them back on. After an hour, I lay flat on my back and watch the ceiling fan moving in a slow, lazy circle overhead, my mind doing the same. I think about the fact again that Justin is a mere twenty feet away. I literally ache to feel his arms around me again, to feel the comfort and safety of being in them as I fall asleep. It’s been four years since I’ve felt him against me.

  Screw it. You only live once, and damn it, in my case, not very much longer. I throw back the covers, slide out of bed, open my door, and creep softly down the hallway until I’m in front of his closed door. I raise my hand three times before I finally work up the courage to knock lightly.

  When the door slowly swings open, a bare-chested Justin now standing in front of me, concern on his face, I take a shy step back. “You okay, Syd?”

  I nod, chewing on my lip, trying to figure out how to ask him what I want. He takes a step further out into the hallway and, frowning, raises a hand and pulls my lip tenderly from my grasp. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I shuffle my feet back and forth. “I mean, I can’t sleep.” I look up at him, my heart hammering against my chest.

  He lets out a long sigh. “Me neither.” His hand lifts and his fingers brush through his locks, leaving them a sexy, tousled mess, and gives me a crooked grin. “You think I’d be used to sleeping in new places by now.”

  “Will you sleep with me?” I blurt it out, my face heating beneath my cheeks, as I watch his eyes pop open. “I mean, you know, sleep with me? Not have sex with me. Just sleep.” I stammer the rest.

  His crooked grin blooms into a full-blown smile, his eyes crinkling more around the corners than I remember. “Really?” He turns and shuts his bedroom door. “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

  “Really?” I breath out in surprised relief.

  “Syd, I miss you. So damn much.” The smile is gone, and instead, a sadness sweeps across his features.

  “I miss you, too.” I turn and then look at him over my shoulder. “Come on.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I follow behind into her room and then watch as she shuts the door softly after her. I know she said she just wants me to sleep with her, but it’s hard to try to explain that to the area below my waist line, which is stirring as I think about sliding into the bed with her. She spins around and sweeps her hands out around her. “This is my room.”

  Instead of looking around, I squint my eyes and take a step closer to her, my eyes taking in what she’s wearing. I admire her long, bare legs before moving my line of sight to the bottom hem of her shirt, up past her chest, finally meeting her curious ones. “Is that my shirt?”

  Her brows shoot up before her head dips down to look at the article of clothing that fits her more like a dress. It’s faded to a light blue, much lighter than the blue denim color it was the afternoon I gave it to her to wear at the cottage so long ago, after we were caught in the rain storm. Her hands fidget with the buttons as she looks back up at me and raises her shoulders. “I love this shirt.”

  “I love seeing you in my shirt,” I say, my voice growing gravely.

  “Cliché much?” she retorts, laughing lightly.

  I take the five steps separating us and stand inches away, looking down into her eyes as she raises them to meet mine. I know this is wrong. I know it’s too soon. But I also know we don’t have enough time, and I want to make the most of every minute we have left after wasting so many. I cup her face gently in my hands. “I really want to kiss you right now, but…”

  Her lips curve upward, her eyes growing a little watery as she murmurs her reply. “But?”

  “But I’m so afraid I’m going to hurt you.” This isn’t what I said to her the first time, but so much has changed, and I truly am afraid to break her. She’s so tiny and so fragile.

  “There’s nothing left to break.” Her lips form a straight line as she steps back out of my
touch and begins unbuttoning the shirt. “There’s hardly anything left of me ,Justin.” A small tear trickles down her cheek, and I take a step forward when I see her hands trembling. She shakes her head no and I stop. “I’m not the same anymore.” She pulls the shirt apart and opens it wide so I can see what her body has become.

  I can’t help the gasp that escapes, and scowl at myself when I see her flinch in response. She told me she had several operations, but I didn’t comprehend what that meant for her physically. Her body is skeleton thin, and scars line most of her torso. She yanks the shirt closed and clenches her eyes tightly. “I’m sorry. I know it’s ugly to look at!”

  I go to her and pull her face back into my hands. “Open your eyes, Syd.” She scrunches them up more tightly and grimaces. I shake her very lightly. “Open them.” Her lids slowly open, and her eyes snap to mine. “You’re not ugly, Sydney. You could never be ugly. I was surprised. I’m so stupid, and I didn’t know.”

  Tears are trickling from the corners of her eyes, and I lean down to kiss them away. I follow their tracks down her cheeks and then move across until I find her lips and finally, finally seal them over hers. She moans and releases the grip she has on the shirt to bring her arms around my neck, her hands gripping my nape. I slide my hands so one is behind her small back and the other at the opening of her shirt, trailing my hand softly down the front of her body. I can feel the bumps of her scars as I go, and feel her muscles clench, then move to whisper in her ear. “You’re beautiful, Sydney, so Goddamn beautiful.”

  I hear her gasp out a small sob, her hands moving to clutch my hair as I move my mouth to her neck and slowly down her chest. I slide the shirt off her arms and move to my knees, placing a kiss over every single scar, trying to show I love every piece of her. When I’m done, I rise and lift her, scooping her in my arms, her head falling on my shoulder, her arms wrapping tightly around me, as I carry her to the bed.

  Tenderly, I lay her down and then slide my boxers off before climbing beside her. I take her shaky hand and move it to lay on my chest. “You can touch me, Syd. Touch me anywhere you want.” And she does. She lays her hand flat and runs it over my stomach, my abdomen still tight from all the hours I’ve spent on stage, and then uses her fingers to graze over the hair settled in the groove of my pelvis, until her hand wraps around my cock and begins stroking it softly.

  I want this to be about her, but feeling her hand on me causes a surge of desire for her that causes my length to throb and jerk in her hand. I lean down and capture her lips in mine, my tongue pushing against her mouth until it opens so I can taste her. She pushes back against me, turning the kiss into something hard and needy, shifting her body so it’s pressed up against mine.

  Snaking a hand around her tiny waist, I pull her flush to me, my mouth opening in a low moan when my cock rubs against her core. She rolls to her back, grabbing onto my arm as she goes, taking me with her, splaying her legs wide so I can fit inside. I move between them, my lips locked with hers again, until I feel her hand grip my cock again and rub it against her clit, eliciting another moan from me.

  “I want this to last, Sydney, but you’re killing me here.” I pant into her ear, then still when I realize my choice of words.

  She chuckles, vibrating under me, and turns her head so her eyes can look into mine. “Then die with me.” And then she thrusts her hips up until my cock slides into her entrance. As soon as I feel her walls clench around me, I surge forward, meeting her hips, fusing us together, both of us losing ourselves in the ecstasy of our love.

  When we’re done, she lays across my chest, but unlike before, her hair no longer trails in streams across, tickling my skin. Instead, I brush my fingers through her short locks, wondering at the silky likeness to Tini’s hair.

  “Are you okay?” I’m so worried about hurting her.

  “I’m absolutely perfect,” she purrs from my chest.

  “Just for the record, I hope you know I’ll be sleeping with you every night from now on.”

  She giggles and then softly asks, “Will you do something else for me, Justin?”

  “Anything.” There’s absolutely no hesitation in my response because I will literally do anything I can if it will make her happy.

  “Would you marry me?” My hands still in her hair, my heart skipping a beat. “Will you make me and Justine yours?”

  I sit up, pushing her with me, and look into her eyes, tears gathering in the corners of mine. “Oh, Sydney, don’t you know that you already are?”

  * * *

  MY BARE FEET squish into the cool, mossy grass as I walk over the crest of the short hill, and I beam as I take in the sight spread out in front of me. Standing beside the pond where I know our daughter was created, is Justin. He’s at the top of a path that’s been outlined in yellow rose petals being scattered by Justine as she walks several feet in front of me. He’s wearing a dark blue suit that magnifies the color of his eyes. To his right stands Jonathan, as his best man, and to his left, Kelly, dressed in a beautiful gray silk dress, as my matron of honor. Chairs have been set up in two small rows but only contain our immediate family, which, of course, includes Kelly’s.

  When Justin agreed to marry me, my only request was that we have it here, on the farm, and I couldn’t think of a more beautiful place than this. Kelly, Shannon, and Pam worked liked bees to make all the arrangements, pulling everything together in three short weeks, knowing every day matters to us right now.

  Justin hired a private plane to fly us here last week, not wanting to expose me to any germs flying public may have risked. Justine declared that it was the only way she wanted to travel from that day forward, and I suspect, if she truly demands it, Justin will give it to her. They have bonded so much more quickly and deeply than I could have wished for, and that alone brings me so much peace.

  Because time was so short, and finding a wedding dress in that timeframe unlikely, I am wearing Kelly’s. Her mom altered it to fit my thin frame, and as the soft organza fabric floats over my legs as I make my way down the aisle, I know it was the absolute perfect choice.

  I finally come to a stop beside Justin, my dad giving my hand a final squeeze before he kisses me softly on the cheek and whispers he loves me. I turn, slipping my hands into Justin’s, and we say the simple vows we requested the justice of the peace marry us with. He slides a diamond laced band over my ring finger, and I, a solid gray platinum band over his, then we crash into each other’s arms when it’s announced the groom may kiss his bride, cheers rising up around us.

  After the wedding, we climb into golf carts Justin rented and make the short drive back to the house. We’re having the reception at Hook’s, as we both agreed no other place would do. When we arrive, it’s to a bar full of all our regulars, waiting with open arms to welcome and congratulate us. They’ve decorated the bar with enough white silk and flowers to possibly cover three restaurants, but we revel in the joy of the day and drink in every moment.

  Shannon wheels a huge wedding cake out from the back room, and we engage in the traditional cutting of the cake and, of course, shoving it into each other’s mouths playfully. Justin plants more kisses on me throughout the day then I can count, and I savor each and every one. Tini is on the dance floor, being twirled around by Jonathan, her laughter filling the room, and I smile, knowing that no matter what, her life will always be filled with love.

  Halfway through the celebration, the crowd talks Justin into singing a few songs. After someone runs home and grabs his guitar and an amp, he sits on a stool at the front of the room and plays for us. What makes the performance so magical is that he doesn’t sing one song he’s released since becoming famous. He only sings his old stuff, the songs that we always used to request from him. We sing along with him, his face beaming with happiness. Tini moves to stand next to him, until someone plops a stool down beside Justin, which she climbs up on. He shares the mic with her, and the crowd gasps in surprise when they hear her beautiful voice.

  In t
he middle of his performance, he asks everyone to settle down for a moment, then gazes around the room at everyone when we do. A content smile is on his face as he begins to speak. “I played a lot of small pubs, fairs, and events before I played all those Saturday nights here a few years ago.” He strums his fingers across the strings of the guitar softly and continues. “But, honestly, nothing ever came close to how I felt about playing here for all of you. You became family to me. So, I wrote this one for all of you.” His smile grows wider when we all collectively start murmuring our surprise. “And I know I played on Saturdays, but the song is called Fridays, ‘cause it just worked better, so you’ll have to cut me a little slack on that one.”

  He gives the room one more sweep and then starts playing the song for us.

  * * *

  “Waste my time, walking down a street I don’t know in Boston

  Can’t make up my mind, decisions are changing things mask taping

  It’s fine tossin’ and turning ‘til the sun comes up

  No I don’t mind, you can get in my bed just don’t get in my head

  * * *

  I said a couple things, I got louder

  Told me a few things, I got problems

  * * *

  making a fool out of myself, and it piles damn it piles

  I hope streets will fill when I’m done, banners on the wall

  And I’m coming down entertain my lungs