Dandelion Dreams

by Samantha Garman

  “Come with me.” Holding hands, we walked into the intoxicating evening. Countless stars hung in the net of the endless universe. I picked out Orion, wondering what it would be like to be forever in the sky, watching, waiting.

  Kai pulled me into his arms and I placed a hand on his heart, my face in the crook of his neck. “You remind me of this poem I read once,” he whispered.

  The smell of him was in my nose, my brain smoky with comfort and peace.

  “How familiar are you with Yeats?”

  “A little.”

  He told me about “The Song of Wandering Aengus”. It was about a man who had caught a silver trout that turned into a beautiful woman. She disappeared, and he spent the rest of his life wandering the hills in search of her.

  “That will not be us,” I said when he finished. “I will not leave you in the night, and you will not have to look for me.”

  “It was dark for so long, Sage, but you’re my light.”

  I pressed a kiss in the dip at the base of his collarbone.

  “How long will it last?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  Staring up into his eyes, I wished I could see the stars reflected in them. “The light goes out, Kai. Always.”

  •••

  “Wake up, darlin’.” Kai brushed his lips across my cheek as I struggled to open my eyes.

  “What time is it?”

  “Just before sunrise.”

  I rolled over and hugged the pillow. “Wake me up in a few hours.” I attempted to go back to sleep, but with gentle insistence, Kai tugged on the sheet, so I was nothing more than skin.

  “Come watch it with me.”

  Growling like a bear cub, I searched for his t-shirt. We sat outside, my legs thrown over his while I yawned. The sun crept up, lighting the dew-covered leaves, making them sparkle.

  “You are so beautiful when you first wake up,” Kai said. “Your skin is flushed and you smell like powdered sugar.”

  I smiled. “That just tells me that you want a donut in the morning.”

  We laughed, the air teasing the hair at our temples. After a quick breakfast in the main house, we visited a bee farm, then rented bikes and rode to the small town that hummed with life. We walked hand in hand as timeless lovers.

  When we returned to the vineyard it was evening, and a celebration was in full swing. Musicians with guitars and hand drums were playing as people danced. Children ran around, engaging in games and trickery. Bottles of wine were broken out and flowing. Laughter blanketed us in a joyful sound.

  His hand was warm and steady at my waist, and I longed to breathe in the scent of him and touch his skin. When the moon was at its zenith, I felt like a fairy woman; my chestnut hair shining in the moonlight, and Kai, my human lover, entranced by my beauty was caught in my magical web. I led him back to our room, needing to possess him and lose myself.

  Unable to unbutton his shirt fast enough, I pulled it apart, small white buttons scattering like seeds in the wind. Kai pushed me against the wall, lifted my skirt, and sank into my depths.

  I welcomed him home. His hands wove into my hair, and his breathing became labored. As I scraped his back with my nails, I felt the sob of release in my throat. Our hearts beat in a codependent cadence, and still he stayed against me.

  Kai looked into my eyes, lifted himself off me, and moved us to the bed. We lay down face to face. “I’m sorry—did I hurt you?”

  Shaking my head, I put a hand to his cheek. “I needed you, like I’ve never needed anything.”

  He caught my escaping tears with his lips, kissing the corners of my eyes. His voice was a distant magical chant as he said, “You’re enough to make me believe there’s a God.”

  I smiled, listening to the night settling down, inhaling the fragrant breeze drifting through the room. I didn’t want to move, wishing to remain frozen in time, my lover next to me for all eternity.

  •••

  “This was a perfect weekend,” I said the following morning as we loaded the car. “I’m glad we came. I love living life in the moment.”

  “You’ve never done that before, have you?”

  I shook my head.

  “But you left New York and moved to France.”

  “That was different—it was not a whim. It was necessary.” Kai started the engine and I buckled myself in and said, “It’s how you live your life, though, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “For a while, it was the easiest thing to do. No demands, go where I wanted, when I wanted.”

  “Do you ever plan?”

  “I planned this trip, sort of. What would you do if money was no object?”

  “Money isn’t really an object for me. My mom did okay as a writer, you know, and she left me everything. And I haven’t figured out what I want in life.”

  “No?”

  “Have you?” I asked.

  “Can’t say that I have,” he admitted.

  “You and me. That’s it, that’s all that matters.”

  “You don’t want more?”

  “More what? I had the career and the guy. Both were the right ones, I guess, but I’d lie awake at night feeling empty. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do about it, so I did nothing.”

  “What about writing?” he asked. “You ever going to pursue it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s all wrapped up with my mother. Like my talent is tainted. What happens if I give in?”

  “What happens if you don’t?”

  I was silent as I pressed my head to the window. “I used to laugh at all those women who wanted nothing more than a house, a husband, and kids. I thought they weren’t ambitious, and I could never understand why they thought that stuff was enough. Now I’m thinking they might be on to something. It’s the simple things, isn’t it? When your days are spent laughing and loving, what more is there? What are we supposed to need?”

  “If your mother hadn’t died, would you feel this way?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ve been wandering for years. I have no drive, no ambition except for the next beautiful place, the next breath of peace.”

  I stared at him, and a missing key of understanding sank into its lock. “You come from money, don’t you? Serious money. That’s what this is about?”

  He nodded, his mouth full of resentment. “Are you angry?”

  “Why would I be? It explains how you’ve been able to travel the world without worry.”

  “I didn’t share it with you. Should I have told you sooner?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “It doesn’t change anything for you?”

  I smiled. “It doesn’t change how I see you.”

  “Coming from a family with money is such a burden. There was always this expectation that I had to do something with my life. Go to law school, become a doctor—live the dream my parents hoped would come true for me.”

  “You never wanted that life?”

  “No. Not before Tristan and Reece died, and definitely not after.”

  “Strange, how you recognized it for what it was. I never saw things clearly. My mother always wanted more from me—for me to publish my works, but I didn’t see it like you did.” I was thoughtful. “Are you ever going to face your family?”

  “Don’t call me a coward.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “You were.”

  “I don’t think you’re a coward,” I insisted, “but you’ve got to deal with this, Kai. If you don’t, it’s going to swallow you—swallow us. Is that what you want?”

  “I didn’t know I could live again. You make me live again.” He paused. “Marry me.”

  “What?” I asked, startled. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I do,” he said. Then in a stronger voice he said again, “Marry me.” He pulled over onto the side of road and cut the engine. With an intense look, a fire in his eyes, he dragged me to him, his fingers in my hair, and his mouth close to mine.
“I can face anything knowing I have you. I will face it,” he vowed. “Marry me, Sage.”

  I traced his jaw with a finger. The stubble was rough, like the sandpapery tongue of a feline. Tears welled in my eyes.

  I nodded, and Kai smiled deeply. It was pure, effortless, like I had given him the world.

  Chapter 17

  Sage

  “What was your wedding to Connor going to be like?” Kai asked, later that night when we were in bed.

  I sighed and snuggled into his arms. “Big, grandiose. It was supposed to be on Long Island.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “What kind of wedding do you want?”

  “Small, and over fast.”

  He chuckled. “Think I’m going to run?”

  “It actually has nothing to do with you. A wedding isn’t what’s important. It’s the marriage.”

  “Wise words. Are you going to invite Jules?”

  “I don’t know; I haven’t spoken to her since I got here. Do I want the first conversation to be, ‘Hey, I’m getting married, and, no, I’m not crazy’?”

  “Valid point, but she is your best friend.”

  “I want to be happy on my wedding day, Kai. I’m not sure I can be if Jules comes. I don’t want to have to explain myself. Even to her.”

  “I can understand that. What happens when she finds out, though? After the fact?”

  “I’ll deal with it, but for now, I want to revel in us, and continue to shut out the world.”

  “You’re a bad influence,” he teased.

  “Let’s hope.”

  “Were you planning to take Connor’s last name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you taking mine?”

  Reaching up, I stroked his hair. “Yes.”

  “Would your mom be mad about that?”

  “No. She took my dad’s name. Even though she already had a successful writing career by then.” I laughed in wry humor.

  “What?”

  “I’m thinking about a fight we had—she told me to publish under a different name if I didn’t want to be associated with her. I can do that now, if I ever…” I shook my head and kissed his brand. “Irony, huh? Life’s a satire.”

  “A series of them,” he agreed.

  •••

  We were married a week later, standing among the vines and tucked away in a pocket of serenity. I wore a simple white gown, the sun heating my skin, a crown of dandelions resting on my head—it was a crown of wishes yet to be made.

  The lines around Kai’s eyes wrinkled as he smiled, and I envisioned how he’d look in middle age. It was a moment of my life I’d remember forever—those lines would become deeper and more meaningful as the years went on, like a mountain pass forged by a river.

  Kai clasped my hands and vowed to be my roof out of the rain, to keep me going when I didn’t have the strength, and to be everything to me when I felt like I had nothing.

  Only Luc, Celia, and Armand attended. When we toasted to our marriage, Kai and I looked at one another and silently gave tribute to those we’d lost. This day that meant so much to us was tinged with unspoken sadness, the beauty of our marriage smudged with darkness like the corners of an old photograph.

  We sat outside at the table that had been set with simple china. I touched Kai’s hand, loving that when we retired for the night, I would be sleeping next to my husband.

  “I found something, and I’d like you to have it,” Celia said when the wine bottles were empty and day descended into night.

  It was a discolored Polaroid placed in a thin black frame, a portrait of my mother and Celia in their early twenties. The girls had their arms around each other’s shoulders, looking jubilant, hopeful, before they knew what life would throw at them. In the background was the vineyard.

  “You said no presents,” Celia remarked as I continued to stare at it, “but I found this in an old shoe box.”

  I looked at Celia, who peered at me like a mother. “Thank you.”

  “She would be proud of you for living your life and finding love.”

  I was about to answer, but emotion gripped my throat, so all I did was nod.

  “Sage?” Kai called. “You ready?”

  Embracing Celia, I closed my eyes. I wished Mom had lived long enough to see this milestone. But if she had, would I even be here, or would I be married to someone else, trapped in a life of my own foolish, rebellious making? Something to think about—later, when I was ready.

  We walked into the cottage, breathing in the night air wafting through the windows. I set the frame on the mantle, took off my wreath of wishes, and placed it next to the photo.

  “You look like her,” Kai commented.

  “I know.” I smiled. “Genes don’t lie.”

  “I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.”

  “I’m sorry they couldn’t be here, either.”

  I reached for him, not wanting to think about our pasts and all we’d lost. I wouldn’t think about our future either—I only needed time in the present, because it too, would flee from us before we were ready. “Take me to bed, Kai.”

  He did exactly that.

  •••

  “Good morning, darlin’,” Kai whispered.

  I rolled over, my arms encircling him. I snuggled into his chest and kissed his skin.

  “Morning,” I answered, opening my eyes and smiling. “We got married yesterday, didn’t we?”

  He looked smug. “Yep. Tricked ya; now, you’re mine.”

  I laughed as he pressed his lips to my ear and then moved his way to my mouth. “We get to do this every morning,” I said.

  “How lucky are we?”

  “Promise not to get sick of me?”

  “Stupid promise to make, Sage. I could never get sick of you.”

  “You say that now, when we’re fresh and new. What happens after fifty years? You may hope to go deaf so you never have to listen to me,” I teased. He ran a hand across my body, making me tingle from his touch. I wanted him to sink into me and stay, so we’d never be separated again.

  “Fresh and new are for others. Others without pasts, others without heartache. You and I, we’re old already. We’ll grow older still—and maybe a little wiser.”

  “Do you feel wise now?” I asked. “Can I borrow some of that wisdom?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Married you, didn’t I? That may be the wisest thing I’ve ever done.”

  •••

  “Go to Paris for a few days,” Celia said.

  “Maybe.”

  “You should have a honeymoon—even if it is a short one.”

  “We live in France. Every day is a honeymoon,” I said with a laugh. “When was the last time you went on a vacation?”

  “Valid point.”

  “I’m enjoying living in the present. If we go on a honeymoon, we’ll just pack and head to the airport and decide our destination when we get there.”

  Late that afternoon, Celia left to begin dinner preparation. I was getting ready to head back to the cottage and wait for Kai, who was helping Luc and Armand around the vineyard. The front door of the bed and breakfast opened. I looked at the entrance, expecting to see guests returning for fruit and wine.

  I gasped.

  Jules’ long, black curls were cut into a bob, and her blue eyes stared at me with resolute intensity.

  “What are you doing here?” I gaped like a fish.

  “Some greeting after five months of no communication.” Jules crossed her arms over her small frame.

  “Sage?” Kai called as he came into the lobby from the back.

  Jules’ gaze snapped to Kai, who was covered in sweat and dirt. “Who’s this?”

  “Kai,” he said, putting out his hand. He looked at it, saw the grime, and pulled it back.

  “Kai, this is Jules.”

  “Jules Jules?”

  I nodded. “This is Kai.”

  Jules rolled her eyes. “Ye
s, I know, he already introduced himself.”

  “My husband.”

  The ticking of the grandfather clock let me know time passed, even as Jules continued to watch me in mute horror.

  Kai made an instinctive and hasty retreat.

  “Husband?” Jules squeaked. “You got married? To a fucking stranger?”

  “He’s not a stranger,” I said, my voice rising.

  “What did you do—marry the first guy you got into bed with?”

  My hand reared back, and I slapped Jules across the cheek hard. I didn’t know who was more surprised. I looked at my palm, wondering if it had found a mind of its own. My gaze snapped to Jules, and my voice shook when I said, “You don’t know shit. Don’t pretend otherwise.” I turned to stalk out of the room.

  “Sage Eleanor Harper. Stop. Right. There.”

  “My last name is Ferris, and what have I told you about calling me by my full name?” I yelled, spinning around. I didn’t care if anyone heard us.

  “You slapped me!” Jules bellowed, a bright red handprint across her face. “You fucking slapped me!”

  “Why are you here?”

  “What reason do you want? You wouldn’t answer my emails or calls, so I came, knowing you’d have to talk to me if I got in your face. And then you slapped me. Who the fuck are you right now?”

  I didn’t want to explain myself, so I said nothing.

  “Have you told Connor?”

  “Why would I tell him anything?”

  “You don’t think you owe him any sort of explanation?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Stop hurling questions at me!”

  “Answer me!”

  I felt weary and defeated. “Few days.”

  Jules’ voice softened, “Can we do this sitting down?”

  “You think I’d invite you into my home? Now?”

  “I flew across an ocean to see you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “Just…let’s sit down. Please?”