by Robin Leaf
After a brief kiss, he continued.
“I want to be your shoulder, your supporter, your cheerleader, your sounding board, your partner, your equal, your lover, and your friend.” He smirked. “I’ll even eat your soggy-ass bacon. We will date. We will be seen together in public, and I don’t care who takes our picture. I want to be yours.” He took a deep breath. “And I want you to be mine.”
I blinked the tears that had formed in my eyes, letting them run down my cheeks, nodded, and smiled.
“Okay.”
He raised his eyebrow, waiting for what I’m not sure.
“Okay?” he chuckled. “After that sappy speech, that’s all I get? An okay? Where’s the rambling?”
“It was pretty sappy,” I agreed. “And absolutely perfect, just like you. For the record, I only ramble when I’m nervous.”
I leaned forward and kissed him. Sweet and unrushed, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere, just to convey all I was feeling.
I pulled away.
“Just so you know, I was yours on the day we met. You took my heart with you that day, Brody Heroux. And I don’t want it back.” I cupped his cheeks this time. “But please take care of it. It’s kind of fragile.”
He ran his hands down my hair. “I will treasure it.” Raising an eyebrow, he continued. “Now, I think you’re pretty strong. So why do you think your heart is fragile?”
I proceed to tell him my entire life story, erupting my fast and furious word lava all over him, starting with the boy in high school who fucked me over for the prom queen and including the people who pretended to be my friends just because of my family’s money.
I told him about my dad.
Somewhere during my vocal volcanic activity, Brody pulled me up on the bed and positioned me between his legs, pulling me to relax against him. He listened, played with my hair, responded, and kissed my cheek and neck while I spoke.
When I got to the part about Kyle, he tensed.
“You were the college girl he was…” he cleared his throat, “dating?”
I sat up. “You knew about me?”
He swallowed, looked down at his hands, and answered with a barely whispered, “Yes.”
I spun around on my butt and sat in front of him, pulling my legs underneath me.
Placing my hands on his, I asked, “Why are you embarrassed?”
“Not embarrassed… ashamed.” He pulled his hands out from under mine and pulled me on top of him. “I encouraged him, Kaelyn. He bragged about getting some hot, college tail from a girl with a daddy who could help jumpstart his career.”
I was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, I cleared my throat and found my voice… sort of. “Did you…” I cleared my throat again, “um… encourage him to sell those pictures of me… to the press?”
“That was… He did that?” Growling, he sat up quickly with both of us. “I’ll. Fucking. Kill. Him!”
I placed my hands on his chest. “No, you won’t. You said you don’t want a long-distance relationship. Well, I don’t want to start one out through the glass of a jail visiting room when we’re just starting out.” I smirked. “You might find a better lover in jail.”
He took a second to control his breathing. “Not possible, Cher.” Leaning in, he kissed my nose and pulled me against him. “You’re perfect… and the only lover I want,” he chuckled. “or can handle.” Running his hand over his head, he added, “Frankly, I’m a little happy for the break. You’re wearing me out.”
I smiled. “That’s my line.”
He leaned back against the headboard and pulled me with him.
“What do you want to do the rest of the day, Cher?”
I looked up at him. “Let’s go do New Orleans together.”
Moving the hair out of my eyes, he smiled back at me. “It won’t know what hit it.”
***
Saturday in New Orleans brought the crowds to Jackson Square. Many artists and musicians line the walkways, hocking their creative wares inspired by life in the city. We mingled, surfing in and out of the throngs of people wrapped up and huddled due to the cooler weather. A little frostiness didn’t slow these people down.
Brody collected some of the artists’ work, stating that he wanted pieces of home to decorate his new house. I loved how he asked whoever designed his home to include the cracked, exposed brick, just like many of the structures around this city. He even asked for them to weather the brick to make it look a little more authentic to match the building his family owned here.
We browsed the artists’ selections in the midafternoon, just like the tourists do. However, due to the lateness of the hour, most of them were packing up the leftovers, those that would be sold another day. Many were complaining about abysmal sales. Although the cold didn’t slow down the sellers, it also didn’t bring in the normal amount of customers.
While Brody paid for his fifth purchase, I turned to see the profile of someone familiar sitting in a chair leaning across what looked like an end table with a small cloth over it and holding the hand of a woman with wide eyes. Her sign boasted that she was the best psychic in New Orleans. She wore a brightly colored cotton dress, mismatched in its patched appearance, with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and sparkly, bangled earrings dangled from her ears… so different than the normal business attire I am used to seeing her wear.
She felt my stare and turned my direction, but her expression didn’t show any recognition as she again faced her client. There was something different about her, something I couldn’t put my finger on at the moment. She sure did look exactly like Dr. Sophia Bourgeois, except without all the haughtiness and privilege my former professor wore when she reduced students to ash with just a look. This woman looked warm and inviting and like she possessed secrets she was dying to reveal.
I stood patiently waiting for her to finish before sitting in the chair, reaching for my wallet to pay her the twenty dollar fee.
“You’re money’s no good here,” she insisted in an indiscernible accent, not the covered-up Haitian Creole like I expected. It was too good to be fake, but I couldn’t make out any recognizable qualities to pinpoint where she was from.
She studied my face while I studied her. While I could swear she looked like the good doctor, something was off… different.
Confused, I raised my eyebrows. “You look just like –”
“Shush, Child.” She grabbed my hand. Hers was warm despite the chill in the air. “Last night, the spirit spoke to me. Said I was to make this.” With the hand not holding mine, she produced a doll that looked nothing like the one Mom and I baptized. “Said I would know who it was intended for when I saw her today, and she’s telling me it’s you.” Placing the doll in my hand, she snickered. “Woo, Child, she really likes you.”
The doll was small and fit in my hand. Basically, she consisted of a couple of twigs and what looked like the mossy stuff that grows in the trees around the swamp. She was swathed in a brightly colored piece of cloth tied with a ribbon, and feathers cradled a painted glass black bead, which I guessed was her head.
What was really odd was the doll warmed my hand, all the way up to my elbow. It made me feel almost serene, and that kind of creeped me out.
My head snapped up, looking to the woman who was smiling, giving me the opportunity to see that she was absolutely not my professor. The gap in her teeth gave her away.
“I appreciate this, but I cannot accept it. I’ve had trouble with another doll –”
“That’s not possible. If you were under another’s spell, I’d feel it.”
My mouth dropped open quickly before I stammered for a second. “That’s… She… Um…” I took a breath. “But my mother and I did the baptism and everything.”
Biting her lips together, she tried to contain her reaction. “Oh, child. You must have gotten it from that tacky Werewolf shop on Dauphine. They been sellin’ those things to the tourists for years.” She spit out a good belly laugh. “You got duped is what you did, spending yo
ur money on that gimmicky trash. They ain’t cheap, neither.”
“I didn’t buy it. It was given to my mom.”
I looked down at the doll still perched in my palm while she collected herself.
“Relax, Child. Quit lookin’ like she gonna bite you. She’s not a traditional voodoo doll. She’s a protection charm. Set her up in your home somewhere she can watch over you and your family. Now that you and your man over there got things all worked out, she gonna take care of you both.”
My eyebrows shot to the top of my forehead when I looked up at her grin. “You know –”
“Only what the spirits tell me. They say you had to have a bumpy start to learn how to appreciate each other.”
I looked over at Brody waiting for his painting before looking back at the doll. It sent a small wave of warmth like a shot through me. My eyes returned to the face of the strange woman still grinning at me.
She giggled. “Stop lookin’ at me like I’m crazy, Child. I’m not. I’m just a woman who is in touch with the spirits and who knows a thing or two.” She squeezed my hand and leaned forward lowering her voice. “Like how it was a good decision to give up trying to please your father. Trying to satisfy that man was doing nothing but holdin’ you back. Now you will heal and grow and become what you were meant to be.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to show how freaked the hell out I was. “And what is that?”
She closed her eyes, tilted her head, and concentrated, listening.
“I am not privy to that, but I can tell you that you will be happier now, blocking out one toxic man’s negativity and letting in that bright, thoughtful man.” She nodded her head in the direction of Brody. “Learn to love him for all he’s worth, Child. He’s one of the good ones… perfect for you.” She closed her eyes tightly and tilted her head. “He’s gonna drive himself crazy soon when he tries to figure out what he can do for you every day to show you he cares.” She pat my hand. “Give him some hints when y’all officially move in together, and again before he proposes in December.” Fidgeting with my ring, she added, “He’s gonna wanna do it up big when you say yes and become his fiancée for real this time.”
I shook my head in disbelief. How could this woman know all this stuff? I felt so skeeved at this point, I could barely breathe, but she was unaffected by my freak out.
“To answer your first question, you probably know my twin sister. She ignores her roots and her spirit-talking abilities so she could marry that rich man and live herself a bougie life. But I bet she still hears the voices occasionally.” She winked. “Sometimes, they’re hard to ignore.”
I nodded unconsciously. “She was there when I met him… said she had a feeling about us.”
The woman smiled, and I swear her teeth glinted at me.
“If her feeling was strong enough for her not to brush off, then you better pay attention. I can tell you that things won’t always run smoothly between you two, but don’t give up. If the spirits want you together this badly,” she sat forward and raised her eyebrow, “then you better be together.”
“Kaelyn,” Brody called, snapping me out of my freak out. He approached, looking down at the doll in my hand and raising his eyebrows. “I’m gonna take this stuff to the car if you need a minute.”
“Don’t worry, Hon,” the woman addressed Brody and nodded to the doll. “She will protect you, too. You treat my girl here right, and you will live long and happy together.” She turned to me, squeezing my hand once more. “We’re done here, Child,” the woman soothed at me. “Go on,” she smiled, “go and help your man.”
I stood, sort of dazed, and took one of the packages from Brody. When we were out of earshot, he leaned in and whispered, “Was that the lady from the plane?”
I shook my head. “Her twin sister.”
“And is she a…”
I nodded. “Seems to be the real deal, too. She knew things, Brody. I never believed in these psychics and spirit people before, but now…”
He kissed my cheek. “You just might?”
I looked over my shoulder. The woman and her table were gone.
I turned to him and smiled. “Let’s just say I’m open to the possibility.”
Thirty
Brody
That saying, “Time flies when you’re having fun,” might be true.
Kaelyn and I had been together six months, but it didn’t feel like it.
Wanna know what’s weird? I would swear it was only a couple of weeks ago that we met on that plane, having that philosophical discussion with her about my game and feeling her up when she fell in my lap.
But it felt like we’d been together for much longer.
We just… fit.
I mean our schedules didn’t always line up, which sucked when it happened, but we were only apart for short periods of time. She was busy with the new business she was trying to get off the ground, and I was busy getting my game ready for the September launch.
She helped me immensely by keeping me on a timetable; she made time management her bitch. She watched my deadlines and kept herself on a tight schedule while still leaving plenty of time for us, and that was appreciated.
We did have some minor issues, like the “great bacon debate,” and the fact that we didn’t always agree on all things political. She insisted we display that ugly doll the psychic lady gave her in the living room, and she seemed to be a bit of a stickler when it came time to fold laundry. Apparently, there was a wrong way to do it.
I did have one point of contention that really irritated me in the six months we’d been together. She always ruined movies because she had to lean in and tell me her prediction of the plot. At first, I thought it was cute, until I learned that she was almost always right. One night, I decided I had enough.
“Dammit, why do you have to say anything at all, Cher?” I gruffly asked her after I paused the show she just ruined.
“I have to let you know I’ve figured it out so then it doesn’t look like hindsight bias when the end comes.”
“What in the hell is hindsight bias?”
“God, Brody, did you even take psych in college?” She pushed me playfully with her foot. “It’s when someone says ‘I knew it all along’ after something is over, but they didn’t really know it. But I really do know it, and I need someone else to know that I know it, too.”
I waved my arms. “Yeah, but I don’t need to know you know it because you ruin it for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jeez. Calm down, grouch. I’ve done this since I was nine when Keaton and Doug made me watch The Sixth Sense with them. When the movie was over, they didn’t believe me when I said I had figured it out early on. So I started saying my predictions out loud during whatever we watched, then they couldn’t deny that I figured it out.”
Believe it or not, that was the moment I realized I was completely in love with her. Sure, she made me angry blurting out her predictions, but that… that was the moment it was confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was my forever girl.
I didn’t tell her out loud. Instead, I vowed to show her every day.
Before we watched the next movie, I bought her a spiral notebook so she could write the predictions down. That notebook saved us from having to give up watching anything together.
Finally, finally after seventeen tries, I found my romantic gesture for her. The flower thing was complicated since her favorite one is expensive and not always available, and it was, admittedly, lame. The sweet treat every day came with complaints of more exercise time. I tried drawing her a picture, but I sucked at drawing. Fourteen other tries that were either too complicated or not worthy of her. Who knew it would be the simplest gesture she appreciated most.
One day, I got lazy and simply picked a song to play for her. The smile she gave me was what I had been waiting for. So, I started playing a different song every day. I chose one based on my mood, so it could be a romantic love song, a sexy song, or just a silly song. It started out that I would sim
ply play it for her, and it made her smile. If we weren’t together, I’d send it to her via text, and she’d send me something over Snapchat of her listening to it. When we were together, I’d vary my delivery. Some days I would take her in my arms and dance with her. Others, I would enter the room, lip syncing and dancing my awesome moves around her, which always made her laugh.
God, I loved her laugh.
I learned pretty quickly what Prince songs did to her. Man, I thought our sex was hot before…
I can say that our life together was pretty good. Perfect even.
Even if we had yet to drop the “L” word.
That seemed ridiculous. We’d been living together this whole time and neither one of us had the balls to say it. My parents said it all the time to one another. I heard her say it to her brother and her mother every time they get off the phone.
I’m not sure what the hold out was for us, but I planned to rectify it tonight.
Kaelyn spent the day with Etta and Emily, who was in town mainly to get fitted for the bridesmaid dresses for Etta’s small October wedding to Nathaniel. Back in February, Etta asked Kaelyn to plan the wedding, and thankfully, Aunt Mae was staying out of Kaelyn’s way.
So while Kaelyn hung out with my cousins, I put my plan into motion.
Candlelit dinner with take out from her favorite restaurant? Check.
Rose petals on the bed? Check.
Playlist with every borderline-cheesy song that says “I love you” in it? Check.
Bathtub ready to be filled to include her favorite bath additions? Check.
Rehearsed speech memorized? Check.
Now, I just had to wait for her to get home, and it felt like it was taking forever.
***
I heard her drive up, so I threw on my jacket over my button up shirt, the one she said I looked sexy in, hit shuffle on my playlist, and hurried to the door with the daisy in my hand.
“Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Savage Garden played through the Bluetooth speakers, not the optimal song, but a good warm up.
