by J. L. Berg
Youthful laughter followed as Zander watched Jude shake the mess from his hair, sending a cascade of cheerios to the floor.
“Such a mess,” I said, mimicking Jude’s words. “What a lack of respect for the wait staff. Who am I marrying?”
I smiled smugly as I shoved another large bite of chocolate-chip pancakes into my mouth while he laughed.
“You two are crazy,” Grace said, dumping a new pile of finger foods out for Zander to munch on.
“It’s all those years of a lack of oxygen to her brain,” Jude replied dryly.
I turned to him, wide-mouthed. “She said we are crazy.” I laughed. “Not just me.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m a bit mad. But it’s your fault. I was totally normal before I met you.”
I rolled my eyes as I moved the last gooey piece of pancake around on my plate, trying to lap up every last drop of maple syrup. “Totally,” I said.
He chuckled as he sat back in his chair and slowly sipped on a cup of coffee while drawing small circles across my back. The sensation sent chills down my arms, yet the feel of his fingers brushing across the fabric of my shirt made me feel warmer rather than colder because he was touching me, loving me. I never wanted that feeling to end.
“I wish you didn’t have to go back so soon,” I lamented. I made a small pouty face in the direction of my best friend.
“I know, but I didn’t expect to see you at all until the wedding, so just think of this as an added bonus, thanks to your generous man over there.”
I turned, sending him a warm expression of gratitude.
“It was purely selfish on my part,” he confessed. “I knew I’d be in business meetings all day, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”
“The fact that you cared enough to fly me all the way across country just so your fiancée wouldn’t be alone all day shows just how unselfish you are, Jude.”
He shrugged, placing his empty cup of coffee on the table, while he continued to rub my back.
“How did the meetings go?” Grace asked.
“Good actually. Roman managed to pull his ass out of bed in the nick of time, and he threw his megawatt charm into high gear. I think we have a good shot of getting their support.”
“That’s great! I know you were hoping for this deal,” she said, a genuine smile spreading across her face.
“We were. It would strengthen our base, which is exactly what I have been trying to do since I returned. I’m trying to make sure Cavanaugh Investments is around for many more lifetimes and is able to withstand any financial earthquakes that might try to tear it down in the future.”
“You’re doing a fantastic job—both of you,” she added. “Lailah told me she made dean’s list last semester.”
“She actually told you that?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “She hasn’t even told her mom.”
“You haven’t told Molly?” she nearly screeched, staring me down.
“It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal to tell your mother, who happens to be a professor and covets education like most people covet chocolate or Louboutin heels? Yeah, I’m sure she wouldn’t care at all.”
“I just don’t want her to make a big fuss,” I said.
“Why?” Grace asked, tearing off pieces of her pancake and placing them on Zander’s tray.
“Because it’s not really that important in the grand scheme of things.”
Setting the remainder of the half-shredded pancake back on her plate, her eyes met mine. “Everything in your life is important, Lailah. Don’t you remember that? Have you become that desensitized already?”
“Desensitized?” I scoffed, looking over to Jude.
Folding his napkin, he placed it on his plate and silently observed the conversation.
“Do you remember that naive skinny girl who couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital and begin living a life she never had before?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t forget her,” she urged. “She would want you to celebrate everything, no matter how small or insignificant, Lailah. Seeing you grow into your own over the last two years has been amazing. The strength and courage you bring to this world make me proud to call you my friend. But don’t let the world change you. Change the world, Lailah.”
Her words hit home as I tried to recall the last time I’d pulled out my list of wishes that I’d created over the years while hiding away in that hospital room.
My Someday List was everything I’d wanted to do if given the chance at a normal life. When Jude had discovered it, he’d made it his goal to help me strike out every last wish off that one-hundred-forty-three-item list.
But as the days had gone on, life had begun to settle, and so had I. The worn pages of my journal had become something of an afterthought now that the world had finally exploded around me.
“Don’t let the world change you,” Grace had said. “Change the world.”
“I think it’s time for some cake,” I announced.
“That’s my girl,” Jude said softly, signaling to the waiter across the room.
“Make sure he brings some chocolate pudding, too,” I added. “We’re celebrating!”
“Sure thing, angel.”
I might not have been changing the world yet, but while I figured out how, I could at least make sure I shined through.
“You must be the only multimillionaire I know who takes a cab to the airport,” Grace joked, shaking her head, as our little yellow taxi pulled up to the curb at JFK.
“And how many multimillionaires do you know exactly?” Jude asked from the front seat.
He leaned over to hand the driver what was no doubt double, if not triple, his required fee—plus, a hefty tip. The man’s eyes bulged as he thanked Jude several times and then quickly jumped out to help with Grace’s bags.
“Well, two—if you count your burly brother. And I know he wouldn’t be caught dead traveling the streets of Manhattan in anything less than a town car.”
The three of us exited the cab as Grace cradled Zander in her arms. He was the only kid on the planet who could be lulled to sleep by a New York taxicab. Meanwhile, I’d held on for dear life and prayed we wouldn’t end up at the bottom of the Hudson.
“That’s because my brother is stuck-up and arrogant,” Jude said, smacking her hand away from her suitcase. He took the handle and slung Zander’s diaper bag over his shoulder. After heading toward the check-in counter, he turned back around and smiled briefly. “And he also doesn’t have an amazing woman in his life, like I do, who still gets a thrill each time she hails a cab.”
I laughed, shrugging my shoulder. “It is exhilarating.”
“And what number was that?” she asked, swaying back and forth.
We stood in line behind a man in a business suit, waiting to check in at the first-class counter.
“Ninety-eight.” I blushed.
Her shoulder lightly bumped mine, and I turned to see her warm smile.
“Keep marking them off, Lailah.”
I nodded, turning fully to wrap my arms around her. “I will.”
Her bag was checked, and boarding passes were issued. Soon, we were standing by security, delaying the inevitable.
“I guess we should say our good-byes now,” she said, frowning.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Right back at you, girl. But, hey, it’s just five weeks, and then I’ll be right back here with my pink dress, ready to party!”
I laughed. “Green! You mean, green dress!”
“Right. Green. Figured I’d give it one last shot.”
“Let me kiss my little man before you take him away from me again,” I begged.
She shifted Zander in her arms, so I could easily reach his sleepy face. His soft pink lips parted slightly as tiny puffs of air escaped. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he dreamed, and I couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Whatever you
’re dreaming of, sweet Zander, I hope it comes true. I love you. Never forget the many people in this world who cherish these tiny hands and your sweet face. Be good for your mommy and daddy, and I’ll see you soon.” I placed a wisp of a kiss on his forehead and repeated the action on Grace’s cheek. “Take care, and fly safe. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Jude stepped forward and gave Grace an awkward side hug, so he wouldn’t disturb the slumbering bundle in her arms. “Thank you for coming. I truly appreciate it,” he said.
“Anytime.”
With a sad smile and a blown kiss in our direction, she threw Zander’s diaper bag over her shoulder, and then she turned toward the security line and disappeared into the crowd of people.
“You okay?” Jude asked as his fingers intertwined with mine.
“Yes,” I answered as we headed back toward the entrance. “I just hate good-byes.”
“It’s not really a good-bye, you know. It’s more of just a see-you-later.”
He pushed open the glass door leading to the street and held it as we stepped out.
“Did you steal that from a movie?” I asked, smiling. “It sounds very familiar.”
“Maybe. But it made you smile.”
“You always make me smile.”
There was no need to hail a taxi at the airport since they were lined up like vultures along the curb. We hopped into the first available one we saw, and Jude gave him the address to our apartment.
As we settled in the back, Jude’s arm snaked around me, and I turned to watch the city come into view. I’d grown up in California where palm trees and beaches took precedence over skyscrapers and subways. Life was different here, but then again, life anywhere outside of a hospital was different and new.
Whether I was living in an apartment in Santa Monica, blocks away from the sandy beach, or in the heart of one of the busiest cities in the world, it didn’t matter as long as I was alive.
Grace had been right this morning. I had become slightly complacent in my new life, trying to fit in, when I should be embracing my newfound existence. When given a second chance, you shouldn’t fade into the background. Rather, you should explode like a rainbow of colors dripping down a canvas.
Jude’s voice suddenly cut through my deep thoughts, and I looked to him in confusion.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I asked whether you ever felt deprived because of everything that had happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just, today, seeing you with Zander, plus the crazy dreams . . . it makes me wonder if you ever wish for more than just me in this world.”
I turned to face him, my hand reaching up to stroke the stubble on his chin. “Are you asking if I want a child?”
He nodded.
“Don’t you think we should get married first?” I joked.
A halfhearted smile tried to form, but I could see his mood was still sullen.
“Jude, please don’t think I ever feel deprived. This life, everything I have, is more than I ever expected. Before I met you, I fully believed I’d die without one of those wishes on my Someday List ever coming true. But here I am, healthy and strong, making each and every one of them come true because of you.”
“But what if you want more—later.”
“You,” I said, tilting his chin upward so that his gaze would meet mine, “are all I need.”
As his lips touched mine, I curled my fingers into his hair. I’d never been surer of anything in my life.
Jude was all I’d ever need.
But as our kiss deepened, the sudden vision of my dream flashed through my memory.
My fingers reached out in the darkness to find him, but he wasn’t there.
“ARE YOU SURE I can’t help with anything?” I asked, pressing mute on the TV once again, as the sounds of clanging pots and pans came bustling forth from the kitchen.
“I’m okay!” Lailah hollered back.
I turned around from my place on the sofa to see her moving about in the kitchen like a chaotic housewife. Wrapped in a frilly pink apron—given to her by Grace as a housewarming gift when Lailah had moved in here—she darted from the refrigerator to the stove and then back to the counter where her recipe book rested. Then, she just repeated the process.
Placing my head on the back of the sofa, I grinned. “Positive?”
She stopped mid-step and turned to see me watching her from the couch. A quirky smile spread across her face. “Maybe. Okay, you want the honest truth?”
“Of course,” I answered, my head perking up to listen.
“I am in way over my head,” she groaned. “Thanksgiving dinner—even for two people? It’s hard! I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
I laughed, rising from the sofa to join her in our massive kitchen. I never understood why Roman had selected such a large place for me to live in when I arrived back home. I knew he was outlandish, having a place several floors above us that was twice the size of ours, but when I’d entered this house for the first time, all I had seen was empty space.
With Lailah here, it finally felt like a home.
“Can I please help you now?” I begged. “I know men are supposed to sit around, watching football, on this particular holiday, but I’d much rather spend time with you.”
“Even if I put you to work?” she asked.
“I have many fond memories of the two of us in kitchens,” I said, remembering a similar situation much like this where we stood around a large metal counter and attempted to cook a meal together. It hadn’t been a date—at least, I hadn’t planned it that way—but it was the first time I’d seen her as something more than just a girl whom I owed a debt.
“I think your culinary skills have greatly improved since then,” she commented.
“Thank God for that.”
She put me on potato duty while she began assembling the apple pie.
“Remember when we went apple picking last fall?” she asked.
I watched her carefully measure out the cinnamon and sprinkle it over the heaping bowl of apples.
“Yeah. You were so excited that we ended up coming home with an entire bushel.” I laughed.
She gave me a doubtful look. “It was not that many. Maybe half. But I kept thinking about that last night as I was doing my last-minute grocery shopping, and I stopped to pick these up. I was enthralled with the entire process of apple picking—the cute little baskets, the fresh air and freedom to pick as many as you wanted. I remember feeling like that a lot during that first year after my recovery. I don’t ever want that to end.”
I stopped mid-potato and set the peeler on the counter. “Then, don’t. Just because you’ve been apple picking doesn’t mean it can’t be just as exciting and wondrous the second or third time around.”
“I know.” She smiled and moved toward me. Her hands were covered in cinnamon and sugar from mixing the apples together, and she had a mischievous look on her face.
My eyes followed her fingers as they slid up my arm and finally disappeared around my nape of my neck, leaving a sticky trail of sweetness behind. She reached my mouth and watched as I parted my lips and licked the sugar off her fingertips.
“Some things just keep getting better,” she whispered.
“Lailah,” I warned, gripping her hips hard.
Smirking, she placed the tip of her pointer finger on her satin lips, and as her lips closed over it, sucking the remnants of sugar with gusto, the last shred of control I had snapped.
My hands tightened around her waist before lifting and turning to hoist her onto the counter.
“Temptress,” I growled. Not giving her a single second to respond, I slammed my lips on hers, demanding everything she’d just offered.
Food was forgotten as clothes were shed, and bodies were joined. Every thrust reminded me that I was the luckiest man alive. Every kiss told me I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and every moan that escaped her lips echoed my he
art that beat solely for her.
Everything I had was hers, and I willingly gave it to her, over and over again.
“It’s a good thing no one is coming over.” She giggled, looking at the mess in our kitchen.
“Well, it would be an interesting story to explain.”
It was well past midnight, and somehow, we’d managed to send bowls, food, and flour flying in every direction. Our lovemaking had been dirty and intense, causing a serious delay to dinner plans.
“So . . . pizza?” I asked.
She moved about the kitchen in nothing but my T-shirt. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “You order, and I’ll attempt to make some sense of all of this.”
I dialed the number to our favorite place down the street, knowing they’d still be open, and I ordered a large with everything. I ran to the bedroom to grab an extra shirt and a pair of boxers that weren’t covered in flour.
Once I was quickly changed, I darted back to the kitchen to offer my help with the disaster we’d created.
Lailah had already made great strides, packaging up everything perishable and putting canisters back in the pantry. She had now moved on to cleaning the counters. I took the job of sweeping and picking up whatever random things had ended up on the floor. Each bowl or dish I grabbed reminded me of how she’d looked pressed against the counter and then slung over the barstool. No matter how many times I had her, it never seemed to be enough to snuff out my burning desire for her.
I could spend a lifetime loving her, and I’d never stop wanting more.
Within thirty minutes, we had the kitchen cleaned up, and we were lounging on the couch with slices of fresh pizza.
“Best Thanksgiving meal ever,” she said before taking a big bite from the crust of her second slice.
“Absolutely.”
Amid flickering candles and cheesy holiday music, we ate pizza and talked about our lives. It was one more memory of Lailah I could add to the growing pile I had stored away in my mind. Each and every one, I cherished like a precious gift, knowing that none of this would have ever been possible if it weren’t for that beautiful new heart beating inside her chest.
