by Alexis Gold
She blinked at him, surprised by his answer, and said, “I didn’t expect you to say that. In fact, I never quite know what to expect from you, Mason. You see, I do love every person in this town and I know each of them very well. However, I have not been able to read you. I don’t understand you, and you’re full of surprises.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to stay around and find out all of my surprises, right?” He winked at her and kissed her cheek.
“I do have one question, though, and I want complete honesty.”
“All right,” he said.
She watched as his eyes flickered slightly. Success, she had found his – very small – nervous habit. Her mouth lifted at the revelation.
“Are you in a gang? When you scared away that thief, it sure sounded like you were in a gang.” She raised an eyebrow.
“No,” he said smiling, as if she had made a joke. “I am not in a gang.”
“Okay, then. I trust you.” She smiled back and kissed his cheek just as he had done to her a moment earlier.
Except this time, he moved his face to meet hers and softly kissed her lips. In silence, both of them lingered, not wanting to part from their slightly parted lips. Frozen, almost like a spell, everything became distant, blurred, and slowed to a crawl.
It seemed like even time was waiting for them to catch up. In a moment with no exact place of measure, but with perfect rhythm, they immersed themselves with each other as time finally caught up quickly. Slowly, their hands grazed, held, and pulled with a fervor of desire that spun time senseless and unable to read itself.
Hands tangled in hair, they walked backwards until they dropped onto the bed, unaware of anything else besides the tugging of lips and clothes. His eyes feasted on her naked body with the hunger of a man starving in lust. Mason was practically drooling as he traced his lips up her neck until he found her lips again. He looked at Jasmine with his eyes suddenly filled with desire and concern as he began to ask if she wanted to continue.
Before he was able to barely finish his last word, Jasmine ravenously kissed him. She pulled him closer and closer, trying to diminish a distance that wasn’t even there. They explored each other’s essences and shared their beings, reaching climax after climax while blissfully ruffling up the blankets as the moon slowly tired of the night.
After hours of incredible, passionate sex in an array of various positions, Jasmine finally collapsed next to Mason, who was breathing heavily in awe and relief. She curled up next to him and looked up at his face, studying his features. She wondered if it would be strange of her to cuddle close to him, as she felt a well of emotions building in her heart.
However, she was unsure if it would be appropriate to rest lovingly. She found it odd that she felt so uncomfortable cuddling with him, as she had just been as close as one could be to another human. Still, she was hesitant to be near him afterwards, since many men tended to be rather hands-off. She did not have long to ponder this puzzle though, as he quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Resting her head against his chest, she smiled.
“What?” he teased, with a smile back at her. “I don’t get post-sex cuddles from you?”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to cuddle with me.”
“Hey.” He lifted her face gently with his hands and met her eyes with his own. She was surprised to see that a sense of love swam through his ocean-colored eyes. “You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met in all my life. In such a short period of time, you’ve already captured my heart. I feel like I’m in a trance or a dream of sorts. I’m terrified that, in any moment, I’ll wake up from this incredible dream to go back to my bland life with you ripped from my arms. So, yes, Jasmine. I want to cuddle with you.”
She darted her eyes slowly back and forth between his. She always wondered about those who were satisfied with only looking into one eye while talking. Instead, she found that searching both eyes often gave a more complete view of one’s love. In his eyes, she discovered that he had fallen madly in love with her – a truth that cannot be faked or manipulated as long as one looks hard enough.
Between the love and honesty, she also saw a glitter of something else – something she could not describe. She definitely did not know the entire story of his life. In that particular moment, as they lay face-to-face, bodies intertwined, she did not care. In fact, she was excited for the opportunities for revelations that awaited.
In sudden curiosity, she blurted, “Tell me something.” To his quizzical look, she continued, “Tell me anything. I just want to know something about you.”
“Well,” he pondered then smiled, giving her deep kiss on the mouth. “I like you.”
Giggling, she pushed at him gently, “No, I mean, tell me something about you that I don’t already know – something that has nothing to do with me. For example, you know I’ve grown up in Rootsville and lived here my whole life. I’ve never left, to even vacation anywhere. So, where did you grow up?”
A strange emotion flashed through his eyes. She could not decipher whether it was fear or anger, but she definitely did not enjoy what she saw. As quick as the emotion flashed, it was gone. Disappearing faster than lightning. She made note that his past must not have been as cheerful as her own, making her frown slightly.
Catching a glimpse of her small frown, he winked and dismissed her question. “Eh, I didn’t grow up anywhere exciting. I also didn’t grow up anywhere nearly as comfortable as here. I moved around a lot, so it’s hard to name a single place that can be called ‘home,’ you know?”
“Yes, that does make sense,” Jasmine said, a tinge of suspicion in her voice. Regardless, if he did not want to talk about whatever was going on in his world, she didn’t want to ask and ruin things. Besides, most new couples don’t share everything about their past at first, right?
“Hey,” Mason started, shedding his previous brick wall of an attitude, “you want to know something? I love going outdoors and watching the birds fly around. Birds seem to be the one constant in any location you visit. Whether you live in cold weather or hot weather, dry or humid, urban or rural – you always find birds of some type flying free. Ever since I was a little kid, I always love watching the birds."
She smiled as she imagined a young Mason running outside, eyes full of excitement as he watched birds take flight in his backyard. She wondered what happened in his life to stifle that childlike excitement. Everyone can think back to a specific moment in life when he or she suddenly had to grow up and give up dreams that come with childhood.
Jasmine’s mind wandered as she recalled Calvin’s return from the military, which she considered her first real travesty in life – awakening her from her smooth, day-to-day routine. Some people are lucky and can hold onto childhood for a few years past adulthood; however, some are not so lucky. Some are forced to grow up quickly and become adults as children. She had a feeling that Mason was the latter.
“I used to have a pet cockatoo,” she stated. “Her name was Tootie. I was not a very creative child.”
“Oh, yeah?” He laughed. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say. I think ‘Tootie’ is a great name for a cockatoo.”
“Thank you,” she said indignantly, then joined in laughter with him.
The two laughed together until the humor faded and a comfortable silence fell between them. Jasmine typically was not the type of person who generally enjoyed silent moments, but it was not as terrible with Mason. Her ears that usually rang in annoyance in the quiet, were now filled with his unique sounds. In the silence, she was able to hear his intake of breath and the gentle thumping of his heart’s rhythm against her ear.
The silence was not awkward or unwelcomed; instead, it was sweet and smooth like molasses slowly falling from a jar and coating her heart in warmth. She felt safe in the silent moments with him, as if time froze when no one made a sound – where she could stay wrapped in his embrace for the rest of eternity for as long as the silence continued.
; The pleasant silence caused Jasmine to drift off into sleep. Her heavy eyes blinked groggily as the soft glow from the candles added a sense of relaxation to the room. Mason had already fallen asleep, as his breathing was much slower and slightly louder with the lack of control. His breathing was nearly a snore, but not quite – allowing her to assume that he had just fallen asleep merely moments earlier.
She wanted to peer up at his face to catch a glimpse of his sleeping state, but she did not want to wake him and felt exhausted. She blinked several times before allowing her eyes to remain closed. Then, she fell asleep with her head against his chest, drifting to dreamland with the sound of his beating heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Jasmine kept her eyes closed as she stretched and yawned. The gentle beating sound soothed her slowly awake. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. She gasped, sitting upright in the luxurious bed as she listened to the door shake. Rose petals still lay strewn across the comforter. Glancing over, she noticed that Mason was no longer sitting next to her.
Puzzled with a strange sadness, she stood up from the bed and walked over to the door where the sound of his heartbeats had been replaced with the pounding of the door. Turning the knob, she was greeted with a large gust of wind that knocked her over backwards. Peering up at the figure who stood at the door, she raised her eyebrows.
“Calvin?” she asked.
“This is all your fault,” Calvin held a long metallic object that she could not make out, and smoke burned from the end. He was standing on one leg with the prosthetic missing from the other. Rose petals fell from the open wounds in his missing leg. “You’re the reason I’m like this.”
“No. Please don’t say that, little brother. I’m sorry.” Tears formed in her eyes.
She felt as if a heavy rock had been placed directly on her heart. Flashes of Mason went through her mind, and she suddenly felt the weight lifted off her. She searched the room for him – transporting to various locations and shouting out his name.
“Why are you looking for me?” Mason asked, suddenly appearing on the bed and surrounded by rose petals. “Why do you trust me so much?”
“I-I don’t know.” She looked at him quizzically, then became borderline frantic. “I think I may love you!”
“You don’t even know me. How could you love someone you don’t know? All you do know is that I’m hiding something, isn’t that right?”
“That’s not entirely true. Everyone has a past,” she said, her voice cracking in hesitation. She ran over to the bed. His demeanor suddenly changed as she came closer. He spread his arms to welcome her into an embrace. She smiled in excitement and jumped onto the bed, only to fall through the bed and into a large pile of rose petals. Feeling her throat tighten, she panicked as she realized she was drowning in the petals. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t see as she slowly became consumed by each and every one of them.
Jasmine sat up straight in bed with her eyes wide and her body covered in sweat. Glancing at the alarm clock, she saw that the time was half past four in the morning: time to get up and get ready for work at The Morning Bell. She quickly put on her clothing and headed out of the door.
As she walked outside, she dialed her cell phone to call Calvin, hoping he would answer. Thankfully, he did. Although he was angry at her – and she angry at him – he still agreed to give her a ride to work with no questions asked on the condition that they did not speak during the car ride. The situation was fine by her. Her brother had to go find a new job and she had work to complete at the café.
After the world’s most awkward car ride in the history of time, Calvin dropped Jasmine off at work. Unlocking the door to The Morning Bell, she watched in the reflection as her brother’s car disappeared around the corner. Her diner was exactly as she left it – crisp, clean, and ready to open. She began setting out plates and napkins when Abby entered and gave a small wave.
“Abby? What are you doing here so early?”
“Hi, Jasmine. Can I talk to you?” she asked, looking nervous and as if she had been crying before entering through the door. “I just need someone to talk to, is all.”
“Of course,” she motioned to a chair. “Sit. Talk. What’s going on?”
“Well,” tears formed in the girl’s eyes, “my parents kicked me out of the house. I have nowhere to go.”
“What?” Jasmine gasped, shocked. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve just been fighting for a long time,” she hiccupped as she began crying more, then started to ramble. “You see, I wasn’t supposed to have this job in the first place. They don’t want me to be a chef, and they definitely don’t support me taking any steps to achieve that dream. My parents want me to join the family business and become a lawyer. They don’t understand that I’m just not that kind of person. Don’t give me that look, Jasmine. No, I’m not, and I’m okay with that. I don’t like school. I like to cook. I just never thought that I would be kicked out because of my dreams.”
“You definitely should never be kicked out of your home.” She looked at Abby sympathetically. Her heart broke for the young girl, looking up at her with the saddest eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. She wrapped Abby in a gentle embrace and assured her that everything would be all right.
For the time being, she recommended that she stay with her in the apartment upstairs. Abby shook her head in disbelief, but accepted. Jasmine grabbed her hand and led her upstairs, attempting to make an exciting adventure out of the terrible situation. She showed her all around the apartment and gave her a grand tour.
“How do you do that?” Abby randomly asked after she had calmed down.
“How do I do what?” She raised an eyebrow.
“You always know exactly what to do to make everything better.”
Chapter Five
The day chugged along slowly. Abby and several other waitresses took orders while Jasmine handled the cooking in the kitchen, as Mason had not yet come in for work – nearly three hours past opening time. As she scrambled eggs and stirred pancake batter, she attempted to squander the thoughts that crept through her mind about her experience last night.
She had a wonderful time and felt as though she were on cloud nine, floating through the kitchen like a princess who successfully courted a prince. Despite her happiness, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that something was wrong, since Mason had not come to work yet. Perhaps he was angry with her or regretted the previous night. Then again, her paranoia could have been due to the strange nightmare she had as well.
As she continued cooking, she suddenly heard a gasp from the diner. Peering out of the kitchen window, she witnessed a crowd of dining guests and staff members surrounding the television screen that hung up against the corner of the wall. The television was a recent addition to the café – a modern version of reading a newspaper with breakfast. The channel was always placed on a local news station, which came in handy during the winter when schools could be potentially closed due to snow storms.
Typically the Rootsville news station featured mild theft arrests, wedding announcements, and feel-good stories about Good Samaritan acts of kindness. However, at that particular moment, she knew that something must have been terribly wrong.
One of the waitresses, Gwen, appeared in the kitchen with her typically-perfect mascara now smudged around her eyelids as if she had been tearing up. Her hand, which still held a notepad from taking orders, was shaking. From outside of the kitchen, Jasmine heard more gasps and the sound of someone asking for a remote to turn up the volume.
Gwen opened her mouth and closed it several times before finally choking out, “You should come see this.”
“All right,” Jasmine agreed hesitantly as she slowly made her way out of the kitchen and into the diner among the dozens of people watching the television screen in horror. Images flashed of fire damage from a local restaurant. Video footage scanned the scene, showing the devastating wreckage. The once-beautiful building, an old-fashioned Italian-style eatery, l
ay crumbled in ashes on the ground.
The camera panned and zoomed into the last remaining piece of the building, which was the restaurant’s sign, featuring the Italian flag against a deep emerald wood. On the sign, however, was a truly horrifying sentiment that elicited a gasp from Jasmine, causing her to cover her mouth. Etched and drawn with ashes, the shocking statement was written: “Burn as we have burned.”
On the television screen, a woman in a sleek business suit looked visibly shaken as she prepared to give the report. Clearing her throat, she began, “Today, the town of Rootsville has witnessed a horrific tragedy. The Italian Grill has been demolished in flames by an unknown arsonist. Using several high-powered matches, the assailant is believed to be still at large. There have been no fatalities, though several staff members have reported burn injuries. It seems as though the perpetrator was attempting to gain attention; therefore, police do not believe the arsonist is a safety threat at this time. The department is, however, warning local business owners to remain extra cautious of those who enter each establishment.
