by Shae Scott
I opened my eyes and saw him smiling at me, his eyes playful. I pulled out the candle and licked off the whipped cream and peanut butter from the wax stick and laid it beside my plate. “Now can I start?” I asked.
He laughed, “By all means, have at it.”
Owen had plans for the rest of the day. He called it birthday 2.0, which was his way of saying he was trying really hard to make up for the previous year. He never said so, but it felt that way. Honestly, his excitement over the day was enough to make it feel special no matter what we did.
We spent the afternoon in the city. There was a music festival in the park and so we grabbed a blanket and lay on the hill listening, me resting against him, fingers entwined and him humming in my ear. We’d come a long way together. Sometimes, in moments like this it was hard to even remember the hurt. He made it easy to look beyond it all when I was so focused on how I was feeling now. The way he looked after me, kept every promise and worked to make new memories was all that I could ask for. Each one of those moments was giving him back another piece of my heart. He took them all quietly, and with a gratefulness that made me want to give him more. It was as if he appreciated everything in a way he couldn’t before. And maybe that was exactly what it was. Appreciation. For a second chance, for a do over.
As dusk fell we packed up our blanket and walked back to the car. “Are you hungry?” he asked, blanket in one hand and mine in the other.
“A little. What are you thinking?” I asked. Neither of us were dressed up for anything fancy.
“How about Rotier’s?” he asked. My eyes lit up and I’m sure my mouth started to water. They had the best burgers around.
“Can we get the fried pickles?” I asked hopeful.
“Like you had to ask.” He knew they were my favorite.
We settled into the booth at the restaurant. They were pretty busy. It was near the college campus so it always had a crowd. The waitress brought us each a beer and took our orders. When she’d left I settled back into the seat and smiled at Owen, “The amount of calories that you have fed me today should be illegal.”
He laughed. “It’s your birthday. They don’t count on your birthday. Proven fact.”
“Well, in that case I might just eat ALL of the pickles,” I warned.
He laughed as he took my hands, entwining them in the center of the table. “You know, I love those pickles. They are pretty much the best fried pickles around. But if you wanted them all, I think I’d give them to you,” he said. His eyes twinkled.
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” I said, swooning for dramatic effect.
“Hey, I’m just that kind of guy. Stick with me, babe.”
“Best present ever,” I grinned.
“Speaking of presents,” he said, letting go of my hands and reaching into his pocket.
I sat up a little straighter. “I get a present?” I asked dancing in my seat a little.
“It wouldn’t be a birthday without one,” he said.
I couldn’t see what he had. He hadn’t carried anything in with us. I craned my neck to try and steal a peak. But whatever he had fit within his fist.
“I saw this a few weeks ago and it made me think of you. I think it’s because it reminds me of the sunset. And sunsets make me think of you. I love the look on your face when you watch the sun sink below the horizon. You get all dreamy and nostalgic. You always find peace in those moments and I love being a part of that. I want to bring you that same peace. I want to be the person who steadies you, calms you, makes you dream big. I guess in a way that’s what the sunset means to me. So…I got you this,” he said. He opened his hand and in the center of his palm lay a delicate silver ring. The silver wrapped around an amber gemstone, orange, rust, and brown all swirling together to mimic the setting sun. It was so beautiful in its simplicity, yet complex in the swirling colors. It was a bit like us in that way.
“I love it,’ I sighed, staring at the piece of jewelry. He took my hand and slid it onto my middle finger.
“Happy birthday, baby. I love you,” he said.
I leaned across the table and kissed him. “I love you too. Thank you.”
The waitress came over with our food as we were leaned across the table, lip locked. “Um...should I come back?” she asked.
We sat back and laughed. “Don’t you dare take those pickles away,” Owen laughed, teasing.
The waitress shook her head and set down our plates. “You two let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be around to check on you in a bit,” she said
I didn’t wait for an invitation. I grabbed up a deep fried pickle spear and put it on my plate. Pretty much my favorite thing ever.
“Good?” he asked.
“Amazing,” I said, trying to chew, but realizing too late that they were stupid hot. I tried to breathe through my mouth to cool it off a little.
“Amazing,” he agreed laughing.
We drove back from the city and I rambled on telling Owen about the phone call I’d had with my mother earlier in the day. She was a mess. Not only was she upset that I didn’t spend my birthday with her anymore, but she wanted to remind me that she was getting older and needed to see me more. It was bad enough that I had yet to give her grandchildren, like her friends, but now she was also missing out on our quality time.
Honestly, I think she just needed to get out of the house. Dad had decided to semi retire and was only working part time. That meant he was home a lot more. You would think this would allow them to spend quality time together or take a trip or something. Instead, I think it was driving her a little crazy. Maybe they just needed an adjustment period. They were happy together, I never doubted that, but maybe after thirty years of being married to a workaholic it took awhile to get used to him being around all the time.
I was getting used to my own workaholic being around. My former workaholic who now took every weekend off and was almost always out of his office by six. I’d lucked out; I didn’t have to wait thirty years. I liked this new side of him. I liked the way he was relaxed. Gone was the constant tension in his shoulders or the distracted conversations as he checked in with the office on days off. He was present, focused and mine. He’d found his balance.
“Thank you for dinner and my ring. And well, thank you for today. I’ve had a really great birthday. I couldn’t have asked for anything better,” I said. He reached over and took my hand and kissed my knuckles.
“I’m glad. I want today to be special for you.” He said.
“It is. I got to spend it with you,” I said. I loved the smile that earned me. “However, there is something I am a little disappointed about,” I admitted. His eyes snapped to mine, worry creasing his brow.
“What?” he asked. I could see the wheels spinning as he tried to not only figure out what it was, but also how to fix it.
“Cake. I haven’t had any birthday cake yet,” I smiled. I saw him release a breath as he relaxed.
“Oh, yeah. Well, I did make you pancakes. Pan. Cake,” he pointed out.
“Nope, there’s no way you can get off on a technicality. I need chocolate cake. Devil’s Food to be precise. With cream cheese frosting. I need it.” I gave him my best serious look, but my smile broke through.
“I can’t believe that I forgot something so important.” He shook his head and I laughed.
“Well, it was almost perfect,” I teased.
That made him laugh. A big, genuine laugh that made my insides warm.
I was so busy watching him that I almost didn’t notice when he turned off of the main street and onto a gravel side road. I sat up and looked around. “Where are we going?” I asked.
He just smirked at me and kept driving. It had been a long time since I’d been here, but I knew it now. There was a glow up ahead, the sure sign of a bonfire. “Are we going to Jackson Creek?” I asked turning in my seat to look at him. He remained quiet, but the smirk on his face grew. “What are we doing here? There’s a bonfire,” I sa
id. Nothing. He gave me nothing.
As he wove along the winding gravel road I could see the open field where we’d spent many of our high school weekend nights come into view. There was a bonfire, lighting up the night sky and a group of people milling about around it with chairs gathered and trucks and cars parked sporadically.
“We aren’t going to crash a high school party are we?” I asked.
“Nope. This one is all for you,” he said.
“What?”
“Happy birthday,” he said, pulling the car to a stop. I looked up and saw the small crowd of people all jumping and waving. I recognized the blond in the middle waving frantically. Cassie.
“You threw me a party?” I asked, shocked. I looked over at him and he smiled.
“There might even be cake involved,” he admitted.
“You are so sneaky.” I leaned over and kissed him.
Owen parked the truck and I climbed out. Cassie met me with a big hug.
“Are you surprised? I helped him get everyone together. Is this where you guys used to hang out? It’s fun. I like bonfires. I’ve never been to one before. You look hot. Want a beer? Happy birthday!”
I laughed. Apparently Cassie had started drinking already. She was in full tipsy run on mode. I didn’t even bother to answer any of her questions as Owen stepped up and handed me a beer.
“Thank you. This is awesome,” I kissed his cheek and then turned to my guests who were all coming up to wish me a happy birthday. I loved that they had all made this trek out here for me.
Someone turned the music up and the party took off. People were dancing and laughter filled the open field. Everyone seemed to be having a great time in our little make shift night club under the stars. I loved it.
After I’d greeted everyone and made a couple of rounds of mingling and a few songs of dancing with Cassie I made my way to the bed of a nearby truck. I jumped up and let my feet swing as I watched my friends having fun. I was feeling warm, a little tipsy, and a lot happy. I smiled when I saw Owen making his way over to me.
“Hi, there handsome.” I cooed as he stopped in front of me. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him close to me, kissing him. He tasted like beer and frosting. “This is the best birthday,” I declared.
He laughed, “I’m glad that you are having fun,”
“I am. You made it perfect,” I said.
“I wanted to have it here because this is where we met. You were sitting on a tailgate just like this one. You changed my life that day. That kid had no idea what had just walked into his life,” he said. I smiled at the memory. It was lifetimes ago.
“You were so cocky back then,” I laughed.
“I really was,” he shrugged.
“It was all show though,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, you saw through all of that right away,” he agreed.
“We had good times back then,” I said thoughtfully.
“Sometimes I wish I’d made a move that night. You know instead of just taking the friend route. I thought you were amazing from that first moment,” he admitted.
“No, I think we did it the right way back then. You were exactly what I needed,” I said.
“And now?” he asked, kissing the tip of my nose.
“And now, you are exactly what I need. These days I just need more of you,” I laughed, hooking my fingers in his waistband and giving him a raise of an eyebrow.
He laughed, “Always happy to be exactly what you need.” His hand moved to the back of my head and he pulled me in for a long sultry kiss. It made me swoon as it set free a fleet of butterflies through my stomach. As he kissed me I was lost to everything else. The music, the laughter and chatter all faded to the background, allowing me to focus on the touch of this man. The same guy who had introduced himself all those years ago, the one who’d awaken something inside me that graduation night, who I’d fallen so deeply in love with over and over again. He was here now, making this day a favorite memory.
“I love the way you kiss me,” I whispered as he pulled back from me. He rested his forehead against mine. I could still feel his breath against my face, it made my insides tingle.
“I love kissing you. All over your body. Until you go limp beneath me,” he said. Holy shit. Now I wanted to rip his clothes off and let him show me.
“It would probably be impolite to leave my party so soon, huh?” I asked, letting my hand drift to the front of his jeans, relishing the soft moan that escaped him as I rubbed my hand against his growing crock.
“Probably,” he admitted.
“Then you should probably stop teasing me,’ I scolded.
“I’m not teasing. I’m simply stating facts. Making you a promise,’ he said. My breathing was coming out in sporadic bursts. My mind full of the visions he’d just painted.
“I like promises,” I admitted.
“Good, because I promise that when we get home I’m not only going to kiss you senseless, I’m going to bury myself so deeply inside you that you won’t even remember your own name. You will, however, remember mine. Because I’m going to make you say it over and over and over again.” His words had me tense, wound tight with anticipation. I was more than ready to get that part of the evening under way. I was just about to suggest we do just that when Cassie bounded up and burst our little private bubble.
I glared at her and she very maturely stuck her tongue out at me. “Don’t give me that look. You two can spend the rest of the night going at it like rabbits or porn stars or whatever…but for now you are mine and we are going to dance!” She pushed Owen back with one hand and pulled me off the tailgate with the other. “Sorry, Owen, right now it’s share time.”
I looked back at Owen and shrugged. How was I going to win against this bossy blond?
I followed Cassie over to the bonfire and we began to dance. I swayed with her, arms in the air as our hips found the rhythm. Owen joined us, resting his hands on my hips and moving with me. Yeah, these were totally happy times.
I nearly stumbled back as Cassie let out a sharp squeal when the music switched over to the next song.
“Fuck, Cass,” Owen flinched at the sound. But then I heard the music and I squealed as I grabbed hold of Cassie. We jumped up and down like kids at the opening notes of Meatloaf’s I Would Do Anything For Love.
“Seriously?” Owen began to laugh at us. We ignored him. This was our jam. When we’d been in college we would always crank this song up when we were getting ready to go out. It had been a joke that had evolved into something else. Our crowd of friends joined in instantly as Cassie and I began to belt out the words to each other in dramatic fashion. They were used to us. When the song hit its first crescendo we began to jump to the beat, flipping our hair around and laughing. Everyone around us got into it, and soon we had nearly drowned out the sound of Meatloaf, replacing him with our own screeching and yelling.
Owen gave in eventually and I laughed hysterically at him. He was quite sexy with his faux head banging. He pulled me close to him and started belting out his promise to do anything for love and I smiled up at him as I joined in with the female part. We were bonfire karaoke on crack and it was amazing. If I could bottle this moment up, I would. Because this was the moment that I let hope in for good. This was the moment I accepted the happy and let myself really believe in it. The moment I believed it all.
26
Ally
I was gaining a strong appreciation for Sunday morning. Sitting on Owen’s deck with coffee, the paper, and my kindle made for a little piece of heaven. We sat together, curled up on the swing, the cool morning air swirling around us, Owen reading the paper and me distracted by my latest book find. He teased me about being more interested in fiction than current events. I argued that fiction made me happy, the news made me depressed. He promised to tell me if anything really important happened. Readers Digest version.
I was particularly lost in the current chapter of my book. I’d just hit that magic eighty percent point, otherwise known a
s the point of no return, when Owen interrupted my thoughts.
“We should go to the beach this spring. Maybe hit up one of those all inclusive resorts with the secluded little huts. I’ve always wanted to stay in one of those, where your room is on stilts and your back door drops off into the ocean. What do you think?” he asked, as he flipped through the paper.
“Yeah, maybe. I mean, if everything works out that sounds like fun,” I said. I felt him tense beside me and I glanced up at him from my spot curled up against him.
His eyes narrowed with unspoken emotion.
“What?” I asked, my teeth sinking into my lip nervously. His expression was both pensive and far away at the same time.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice suddenly filled with ice.
I opened my mouth to speak but he’d caught me off guard and I couldn’t form words. My brain scrambled to try and remember what I’d said. I replayed the words and my heart sunk.
“Owen, that’s not what I meant.” I said quickly. I set my kindle down and sat up straighter. That look on his face was hard to take.
“Do you not think we are going to make it? Are you trying to push me away. I swear, you don’t even realize you’re doing it half the time,” he said.
I shook my head trying to get a handle on what was happening here. How had things turned so suddenly. The look on his face was scaring me. I couldn’t even find any words to ease his worry.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” I said finally.
I didn’t. Did I? No, I was distracted. That’s all it had been. Why was he jumping to conclusions? Had I been pushing him away without ever realizing it? That hadn’t been truth escaping had it?
