They made it to the bottom of the bleachers without a second incident. He reached for her hand again, nodding towards the announcer’s booth, grinning as she blinked up at him with confusion written plainly in her eyes. “Are you ready?”
“For real… Up there?”
He shrugged one shoulder, loving the way her eyes now lit up with excitement. Okay, so maybe the wooing thing would be worth it after all. “Well, the ground’s too wet, and I knew where the extra key to the box was, so…”
Tugging at his sleeve, she gazed up at him. Her blue eyes were brighter than the sun setting against their backsides. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
He pulled her up the steps, unresponsive, but smiling anyways. Careful not to make a fool of himself and slip on the damp metal of the bleachers, he focused on making it to the top. And as they stood before the entrance to the booth, he stared back down at her behind him, unable to keep the corny line from sliding off his tongue. “Yeah, I’m crazy…about you.”
Her giggles filled the air and she shoved his shoulder, only instead of letting go, she gripped his upper arm and hugged him close instead. God, was this for real? Her…him…together…here? He shook his head at his doubtful thoughts, reaching upwards to grab the spare above the doorframe.
“Wow, anyone could have found that key, you know. Is Hillsdale High really that stupid to think nobody will figure that out?”
“Yeah, you’d think so, huh?” The door twisted open seconds after he slipped the key into the lock. Swallowing was impossible as he flicked on the lights. He wasn’t thinking about security, or the school stadium either. He was thinking about how she’d react when she realized what he and his mom had concocted.
It was now…or never.
* * *
No. No way. This was not the doing of David Paul Anderson. This was the doing of a professional… A Mrs. A professional in particular. Her heart stopped beating in her chest. Rockets of excitement were blasting off in her stomach too. Eyes wide, she stared up at the red–faced boy who’d had an obvious hand in this, as well.
“David?”
“Is it okay? I mean, I wanted to make it special and all, you know, since we never got to go to that dance together.” His throat bobbed up and down. Soulful were the eyes before her; soulful, and honest, and everything she had ever wanted. David had created a paradise…in the small span of an announcer’s booth. For her. Holy macaroni and cheese…
The words she longed to speak were trapped in the base of her throat. Dragging a hand down her neck, she blinked, taking in the area surrounding them both. To the right on the floor sat a simple red picnic blanket. Stacked around the edges were two plates and containers packed with a plethora of foods that looked downright sinful. Berries, chocolate, crackers, cheeses…you name it, it was there. Her stomach grumbled as the cherries from the cheesecake seemingly glistened under the lights above. She pointed her gaze toward the ceiling, curious as to what sparkled down on them so brightly, smiling as the white Christmas lights twinkled from the ceiling. Intermingling with them were crystal icicle–looking things that were both beautiful and dangerous–looking at the same time. The equipment used during games was covered with another bigger blanket. But it was what was taped to the outside of the blanket that had her holding her breath, along with her words: Pictures…of the two of them, or of them individually, were placed in no significant order around three simple words made from some sort of cardboard material. It didn’t matter what the letters were constructed of though…it’s what they said that created the ache of happiness in her chest.
David Loves Abigail.
Jesus. This went beyond a first date. This was straight up anniversary shit here. “David, my god, this is amazing!”
The gasp in her throat had his face flushing red. Whenever he got embarrassed like that, her heart constricted to a point where she was almost giddy. He scratched the back of his neck, gifting her with that one–sided smile she was so damn in love with.
“Thanks…I, um, well, Mom helped a little…but the pictures and stuff were my idea. You don’t think it’s like, too corny do you? I mean, if you don’t like it, then we can just go and—”
“Stop,” bringing her hand to his mouth, she pressed a finger against his lips. “This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. You don’t even know how…how happy this makes me.” She chewed on her lip, moved her hand, and went up on her tiptoes to show him how much.
The kiss was soft, gentle, and brief, but she prayed the heart she put into it showed him just how much she meant what she said.
“Okay,” he sighed against her mouth a second later, pressing his head to hers.
“Okay…” her response was breathless. She reached for his hand and pulled him toward the pictures, eying them all with disbelief. She meant it when she said this was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for her.
“Where’d you get all these?” She traced the edges of the photos, smiling at them together—hugging, laughing—around the age of six. Then around ten, with bunny ears, and angry frowns… The years went on, and with each picture, you could see the happiness they instilled in each other. She was no doubt in love with him then, and it only grew deeper with time.
“My mom…she had a lot of them stored away. I had some too though.” Nonchalance was never David’s game, and it was no different tonight. He was obviously embarrassed. His eyes were downturned; his lips were puckered—never had she seen him appear so nervous. Talk about perfection…in the best flawed way.
Deciding it was time to ease his adorable suffering she plopped onto the blanket, and made an immediate play for the food. She smiled, pulling him down next to her. “Okay, so I don’t get how a dog got into this food. It looks untouched!”
Shaking his head, he sighed, seemingly relaxing as he dished out some random fruit onto a plate. “Damn thing, he just appeared out of nowhere, digging through the crap with his paws. I was trying to set it up outside earlier, before the rain hit. Down on the field would have been our eating area, and up here would be our, um…dancing area.”
“Dancing?” hand frozen over her plate, she gaped up at him. David was freely going to dance with her?
“Yes…dancing. But not much, cuz I kind of only have one good foot, you know.” A slow, shy grin appeared across his lips. His cheeks darkened red as he shrugged. Adorable, shy David was a sight to behold.
Smiling, she shoved his shoulder again, unable to stop her little child–like flirts. He made her feel giddy, and young, and so, so in love it wasn’t even funny. “Whatever. Your jokes suck.” She popped an orange slice into her mouth a second later, moaning as the sweetness practically melted in her throat.
His eyes widened in mock sadness as he pressed a hand against his chest. “No… I’m an awesome joke teller.”
Chuckling around her orange, she responded with a wink, “Yah, maybe when you were like, ten or something. Not now though.”
“You love my jokes, don’t lie.” He scooted next to her, lifting more goodness from the basket and placing it onto their plates.
Leaning back onto her hands, she grinned. “Um, yeah…you’re just a riot, Mr. Moody Ass.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I’m working on the moody thing.”
“That you are, D… That you are.”
Dinner was amazing—simple, delicious—just enough to make her full, but not sick. They laughed about everything under the sun, just like two friends who hadn’t seen each other for years, which in a weird way they kind of were. But yet the underlying passion between them, continued to settle in the air the longer they sat there. Small movements, that’s all it took to set her body off: When he’d stroke the back of her hand with his thumb; or when he’d brush a stray hair from her cheek; each and every movement of his fingers had her burning with need—for him. She didn’t know if she would ever recover from the sensations he instilled inside of her, nor did she know if she ever really wanted to.
She picked up the yellow rose and inhaled the sweet scent while he spoke of school, and the weird, but cool friends he’d made. He smiled, he laughed, changing right before her eyes into the lighthearted boy she once knew. And with each grin, or chuckle, she felt her body lighten too, as if a weight was lifting off of her with every word spoken between them.
“Okay, time for the second part of your wooing.”
“Second part? I don’t need a second part,” she leaned over the last of their cheesecake, her lips just inches from his, “I’m beyond wooed, David.”
His forehead lowered, and he shut his eyes, his lashes grazing her cheeks. “This next part was my idea too…not my mom’s, so let me have my moment, okay?” Giggles erupted from her mouth as he kissed each of her eyes. “Keep these closed,” he whispered his demand as his lips grazed her lids for a second time.” Her smile burned against her cheeks, and she nodded, agreeing with whatever he wanted.
The sound of rustling echoed through her ears and she was dying to peek, but decided this particular surprise would be worth it in the end, even though she had no idea what it was going to be.
“Open them Abigail…” she did, blinking to clear the fog from her contact lenses, her breath catching as she stared down at his hands.
In his fingers rested another rose…this one orange. Her mouth was wide, her words missing. “It means energy, and a passion for all things life. That’s you—my energetic girl, who doesn’t stand down—who makes my life full, complete, and so worth living.” God damn…what was she supposed to say to that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, because her words were again stolen away as he pressed an additional rose into her hands. “Lavender, for elegance and grace, because everything you say or do in life exhibits those qualities.”
This time the tears started, streaming down her face faster than she could wipe them away. But instead of fighting them, she let them go, too enraptured with the fact that he was slipping yet another flower into her hands. “White…for purity and innocence,” his gaze was downturned, his hands shook. He was scared, as was she. But the best kind of scared. The kind where they were now in unexplored territory, but they’d be there…exploring it together.
“They had to dye this one for me…but I had to have it, because it means a lot. Blue…for peace, truth, serenity. Because you are those things…to me. My calm, my one reason for living.”
Okay, how was she not going to start sobbing here? “And another—pink—your favorite color for one,” he laid this one in her lap, grinning before reaching up to wipe her tears away with his finger. “Pink is for the joy you make me feel, and for the beauty that you are.”
Her body trembled, and if she would have had the courage to speak, then her voice would have too. She knew what was next, and the anticipation of hearing him made her heart race against her chest. There was no way she’d emotionally survive this. Her heart was on the fast track to explosion. But it would be the best possible way to die. Ever.
“And red,” he broke the stem, and brought it to her cheek, sighing as he tucked it behind her ear. “Because you, Abigail, are all I desire. You are beautiful like a red rose, vital to my life, to my survival, whether you believe it or not, my strength to keep going when I want to give up. And finally, you are my love and someday, hopefully, my forever.”
Did he write this down in his journal? Because David was apparently a walking, talking, breathing Hallmark card—one that nobody would ever get to open again, but her.
“Dance with me.” How could she not, especially after that?
Nodding, she settled the flowers on the blanket next to her, taking his hand as he stood. He leaned over and switched on this iPod, letting the voice of Keith Urban fill the void of the air between them. Her brows rose in question as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he shrugged settling his hands against her backside. His voice was low and soft in her ear, “It’s Harley’s music, don’t knock it.”
Laying her head against his shoulder, she sighed, shutting her eyes, “Never.”
They swayed to the music together. Abigail wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between them for eternity. This was what life was supposed to be made of. This was all she wanted. The two of them—together—forgetting the bad…loving the good. Being one… And yeah, the future wasn’t going to be easy, nor did it look exactly bright, but together, they could get through anything. No matter what life threw at them. There was no doubt in her mind about that.
Chapter Twenty–Three
“Dude, real sorry about fucking up your date last night.”
“Whatever. You had to work.”
Cringing, David turned away and faced the other end of the elevator. The stench of night–before beer sat heavy on his friend’s breath, accompanied by an overabundance of aftershave, followed in tow by cigarette smoke. It wasn’t exactly ideal for a guy currently dressed in big red shoes, a polka dotted costume, and a wickedly nasty rainbow wig.
Today was the first day on the new job, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. At all. Luckily, the clown costume was able to wait due to the fact that he was just in training—observing what the duties of a fucking supposed clown entailed. All he could imagine though, as he stared into JT’s bloodshot eyes, was an image of blood coming out of his friend’s mouth, like he was starring in some straight–up B–rated horror movie instead of working at a children’s hospital.
“I did work, you know. So don’t act jilted, man,” JT growled in defense, his eyes narrowing.
Holding his hands up in surrender, David laughed, just as JT’s red nose fell against his red painted lips. Snatching it away with a harsh groan, he settled it back on, lifted his head high just as the ding of the elevator signaled their fifth floor arrival. “Just shut your ass up, all right? We got sick kids to entertain.”
Controlling his laughter was near impossible as David drug a suitcase full of JT’s clown props in his wake. “It’s all good Bozo, just relax. I’m not pissed anymore anyways.”
“Why…you get lucky or something? Cuz I sure the fuck didn’t.” His black hair slipped from beneath his rainbow wig, but he didn’t move to fix it as they slipped through the double doors. The guy was downright evil looking, but at the same time, David knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just had that look and way about him: lax, funny, but strange at the same time. Guess that’s why he liked him. He wasn’t perfect, and he didn’t give a shit what anyone said about him.
“Shut it…we’re in the presence of kids here! And it’s none of your business anyways. What I do with my girlfriend is for me to know, and for you to never find out.”
“You dirty dog you.” JT dug an elbow into his ribs, winking the eye that was shadowed by a huge brow ring.
“I’m telling you to shut the fuck up before I—”
“Good afternoon boys…”
Hobbling to a stop, David about fell over as the beastly woman in a white overcoat stepped before him. The grinding halt left his leg aching, but he held back his grimace for fear that the lady would think he was scared of her…which in a crazy way, he kind of was.
“Yo, doc. Good to see ya.” JT pounded on her arm, not giving a shit that this lady was staring daggers through them both—David especially.
“Mr. Thompson, glad to see you again. Is this the new employee your aunt let you hire on?”
Proud like a father, JT wrapped a lose arm over David’s shoulders, “Yep, he’s it.”
Her eyes roamed his body in a scrutinizing sort of way, her eyes narrowing as she studied his crutch. “Are you going to be able to handle this job, Mr.…?”
“David. David Anderson.” His sweaty hand rose to meet hers, but she nodded, unresponsive to his greeting. Clearing his throat, and dropping his hand, David stared back at her, matching her bitchiness to a T. “And yes. I’m capable of being a clown.”
A snarky laugh left her mouth, but otherwise she didn’t show a lick of softness. This lady was a doctor that worked with kids? What the fuck?
“
Follow me. Layla needs some cheering up the most this evening. She had a rough day.”
Shrugging, JT nodded him along. But David was unable to follow. The walls—white, familiar, foreboding as shit—threatened to close in on him the more he took in the area with his gaze. It was all too familiar, in the most unfamiliar way. He’d never been there, but the place was nothing but a reminder of the past he’d never get past. He reached down, rubbing a hand over his left upper leg, stopping right above the spot where his prosthetic met his skin. He could do this. He could. He just needed to grow the fuck up—be a man. Again, he was alive, and now he was walking for Christ’s sake. His spirit wasn’t broken anymore. His heart was whole, even if his leg wouldn’t be again.
“Dude, David, hurry up, man,” JT darted back to his side, grabbing the suitcase from his hand, “Doc’s not in a good mood today.” Frowning, David followed him through the halls, careful not to look into the rooms, careful not to let his eyes latch onto things he didn’t want to see.
Sick fucking kids…what the hell was he thinking? What was he doing here?
“Layla! Oh boy, oh boy…you’re looking mighty pretty today young lady!”
What the hell was that voice coming out of JT’s mouth? It sounded like a squawking duck on the verge of an orgasm. No longer in his own selfish world, David found himself grinning as he followed the sound of JT’s voice. That is, until he entered the room. There, sitting on the bed, with her brown eyes wide, her head completely bald, sat the tiniest little girl who looked no older than six.
All the air left his lungs as he studied her face, her sparkling eyes in particular. She had cancer…she was dying…and she was beautiful.
Her mom rose from the bed, looking identical to the little girl, the dad darker than them both, but owning the same brown eyes as the child. They were laughing, fully focused on their daughter’s face as she giggled. JT gave an award–winning clown performance, leaving David in sudden awe at his unbelievable skater boy transformation to this…good, decent clown–guy.
A Long Time Coming Page 21
