All Your Firsts Without Me, page 13
My fingers tremble as I pull it out of the box. I know I haven’t kissed yet, but I need to read something new from him, especially today.
April,
I’m writing this while dreaming about your lips. Lips that deserve to be worshiped. So, if you’ve taken the plunge and kissed someone then I’m happy for you. That is all you need to know, and this letter can end here but if I know my beautiful wife like I think I do, you are reading this as a prelude to a kiss….
How wonderful.
Because you’re thinking about it and when it happens, I want you to kiss that man with abandon. Remember every single thing about it. The place, the sounds, the smells… take it all in and file it away in your memory bank.
Grab as many good memories as you can, baby. Hold onto to them and cherish every single one. Even the ones that don’t involve me.
I remember our first. It was my birthday, and I was blowing out my candles. I’d just closed my eyes to make a wish and you were there. Your soft lips pressed to mine. My only regret was that I had held back for so long. It felt so right. It was perfect.
Do you remember how you begged me to tell you what I wished for that day?
Smiling, I bring the letter to my face and place a kiss to the paper. I remember that day well.
I’m still not telling you what I wished for. Maybe someday…
Anyhow, if you are reading this then I know you’re ready.
Please don’t feel guilty.
It doesn’t erase all the kisses we shared. It doesn’t alter the past; it only enhances the future.
I love you,
David
I read the last line over and over again. He’s right, per usual. Nothing that happens with Westin and I will erase the life I had with David.
“Lucky, do you want to go for a ride, girl?”
She hops up and does a few twirls, then waits for me by the door. She’s such a good girl.
I grab the polaroid of Lucky and I before walking out the door.
Lucky sticks her head out the window of the car, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing the air. Her tail is wagging like crazy. She’s so happy, which makes me happy.
After I get her leash hooked to her collar, we walk through the grass to David’s grave. I stand there a moment, feeling shy for some reason. “Hey,” I whisper. “It’s me.”
I sit down, releasing some of the leash so Lucky can sniff around. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit you in a long time. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to leave.” I giggle. “I guess there’s rules to wives sleeping here so…” I stare off at the horizon.
“Anyhow, I brought a new friend with me. Her name is Lucky. She’ll get hungry and demand we leave, so I’m hoping that will help.” I laugh lightly, a tear running down my cheek.
Lucky senses my sadness and starts licking my face. “See what I mean. She’s such a good dog.” Lucky curls up in my lap, laying her head on my knee.
“I miss you, David. Sometimes it hurts so much I can feel my heart wilting. Lucky helps with that.” I scratch behind her ears until she yawns and closes her eyes.
“Giles has been coaching me in golf. I’m not particularly good at it but it’s fun. I see why you enjoyed it. Giles and I are becoming better friends. Teresa and I still do our Friday afternoon girl time and Kaden calls once a week. He’s graduating in two weeks. I’m sure he’s already told you, but he’s been dating someone. She sounds so sweet. I’ll get to meet her when I head down there for the ceremony.”
My fingers pick at the grass. Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“I don’t know if it’s okay to talk to you about him.”
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“He has one leg you know. I don’t know if you knew that, but you probably did since you were the one who talked him through his accident.”
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“Can you believe he thought I wouldn’t like him because of that? I guess he had a few women ghost him after finding out. Isn’t that terrible? People are so mean sometimes.”
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“He’s nice. We laugh a lot.”
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“And he wrote my favorite song. But you already knew that…”
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“He went with me to the compound. You should have seen the messages people left for me on the walls. I asked Giles to get me a meeting with my Dad. I’m nervous about it.”
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
“Do you think I should ask Westin to go with me? I mean he got me through going to the compound.”
Lucky’s head pops up and she growls low, her fur standing on end. My eyes follow hers. It’s Cracker, my squirrel. “It’s okay, Lucky. It’s just Mr. Cracker, he won’t hurt you.”
Cracker pops a seed in his mouth and then scrambles up the side of the tree. I rush to my feet when I see what is attached to it. It’s a squirrel feeder. On the front is a plaque that says in Loving Memory of David Langston. Oh my god. Did Westin do this? He was the only one who knew about Cracker.
Lucky dances around my feet as I realize how incredibly lucky I am. I drop down in front of David’s stone and run my finger over his name. “Thank you for always looking out for me. You were the best thing to ever happen to me.” I press my forehead to the cool stone. “It’s been six months, so I need to get ready to go to the White Glass, just like I promised. I love you, forever and always.”
I pull the picture of Lucky and I out of my pocket and lean it against the stone. Taking a deep breath, I push myself off the ground. “Come on, girl. It’s time to go home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Westin
The minute she steps through the door, my face turns her way. She’s like a burst of crisp air, rushing in. She has a bright yellow sundress on that makes her eyes glow more golden than I’ve ever seen. Her gaze finds mine, her lip curling up in a shy grin. She doesn’t come to me though. She sits at the other end of the bar. The bartender gives her a friendly smile as he slides an envelope towards her and a margarita.
She takes a sip and then slowly runs her finger along the seam, pulling out a letter. Her eyes scan the words before putting it back in the envelope and tucking it away in her purse. She finishes her drink, her eyes not leaving the bar.
What the fuck is going on?
I run my sweaty palms over my jeans.
Why hasn’t she come to me?
My song starts to play on the jukebox and then a hand gently lands on my shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” a sexy voice murmurs, so close I can feel her warm breath on my cheek.
I spin on my stool to face her. She tucks a curl behind her ear.
“Um, I’m supposed to find the most attractive man in the bar tonight and ask him to dance with me to my favorite song.”
My heart sighs. Thank god.
I bite my lip, pointing to some old bloke sitting on the other side of the bar. “How about him?” I suggest.
She looks over her shoulder at him before returning those amazing eyes back to me. “Oh, he is handsome, but I really had my heart set on not only the handsomest man in this bar but in the whole city, state, country, maybe the entire world.” She lifts an eyebrow at me in challenge.
I tug on my jacket. “Well, now that you put it that way.” I stand, tipping my elbow to her. She curls her fingers around my arm, and I lead her out to the dance floor.
When I pull her close, her breath hitches. She wraps her arms around me, laying her head on my chest. When I glance down, I see she has closed her eyes. I squeeze her tight. She smiles. “This is nice.”
“Very nice,” I reply quietly, brushing my lips over the top of her head.
She stares up at me as we dance. “You were here that day I met David for a drink,” she says.
I blink down at her. I didn’t think she would recognize me. She didn’t even look at me once that day. “Yeah,” I say on a sigh. “I didn’t think you saw me.”
“I didn’t, but I remember your voice. I was up at the bar paying for our drinks and you told me that someone was waiting for a dance.”
I rub circles over the small of her back as we sway back and forth. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be.”
When the song finishes, she grabs my hand and walks us back towards the bar. She lays several hundred-dollar bills on the counter, fanning them out. “Drinks are on me tonight for as long as this lasts.” And then she drags me outside.
“What are we doing?” I ask nervously.
“I need your help with something.”
“Sure, anything. What is it?”
“I need you to pick up a bottle of wine and your guitar. Meet me at the beach in front of my house before the sun sets.”
“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll see you in a bit.” She gives me hug before disappearing into her car.
As I drive to my house to grab my guitar and a bottle of wine, I wonder what the hell she is up to. I know David wanted us to meet at the White Glass because he wanted her to meet a guy in a natural way. His words not mine. I think he felt bad about the way their relationship started. He used to say their love was born out of tragedy. But isn’t that true for a lot of people?
Neither of us predicted I would meet her sooner. Several times, in several different settings. I don’t think how love begins is of any real consequence. It’s how long it lasts. I know her love for him will last forever. I can only hope that her and I have a chance at something close to that.
When I pull up to her place, I see she and Lucky are already down at the beach. I grab my things and head down to meet them. “What do we have here?” I ask, taking in the blanket lying on the ground. A giant picnic basket holds one corner down, along with several pillows. She has a fire pit made up a few feet away, waiting to be lit.
She throws Lucky’s ball one last time and then sits down beside me. “I know he wanted us to go to the White Glass tonight and I wasn’t about to break that promise, but it seemed kind of silly since we’ve already met.”
I take my jacket off and lay it beside us. “You said you needed me to help you with something. What is it?”
April inhales deeply and slowly lets it out. “I don’t need your help yet,” she says as she busies herself pulling out two containers of pasta salad, handing me one.
I take a bite, groaning at how good it is. “This is so good.”
She giggles and settles her butt back down beside me, handing me a napkin. We eat in silence as the sun drops low in the sky.
“I’ve had a hard time watching the sun set since he passed,” her voice catches. She puts the lid on her bowl, setting it back in the basket. “He died here on the beach as it was setting.” Her eyes glaze over. “I’ve only watched it once since then.” When she blinks, tears fall off her long lashes. I reach over and brush them away with my thumbs. Her hands wrap around my wrists as I cradle her face. “Would you watch it set with me?”
“Of course,” I tell her.
“I thought this would be better than drinking the night away at the White Glass,” she sniffles.
“Much better,” I agree, pulling her close. We don’t talk as the sun creeps lower and lower.
I feel her tense as the sun dips its toes into the water. “I think I’m ready for that thing I needed help with,” she says, her eyes sparkling in the final rays of light.
“Anything,” I whisper, my breath sending stray hairs fluttering around her face.
“Kiss me.” She leans in close, her scent overwhelming me.
God, I’ve waited so long for this.
Our eyes are locked, the breeze blows gently, the waves lap lazily at the beach as my heart swells with love for this beautiful, strong woman. I cup her cheeks, removing the last few inches between us. Her eyes fall closed as our mouths connect. A groan escapes me as she parts her lips, inviting my tongue to slide into her mouth.
Her hands come up and she pushes them into my hair, pulling me closer. Our kiss is like a match, it sparks an ember between us, and it grows and grows. Before I know it, she has crawled on my lap, meeting me lash for lash. Our tongues get to know each other, while our bodies wake from a deep slumber.
She pulls away, panting, her hands locked behind my neck. Her eyes bounce over my face. Then she presses her lips to mine again, hungry for more. We kiss and kiss and kiss until the cool night air pulls us out of the trance we’ve been in.
She giggles when she finally pulls away from me. “I suppose we should start the fire.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief.
“Oh, I think I’m warm enough,” I joke, trying to catch my breath.
“We’re pretty good at this kissing thing,” she says, laying her head on my shoulder.
I wrap my arms around her, and she melds into me.
Do you know that feeling you get when you slide the last piece of the puzzle into place? Well, that is exactly how this feels. Only so much better.
She reluctantly pulls away. “How about we have that wine now,” she suggests, sliding off my lap. I grab the wine I brought as she digs in the basket for the glasses. She hands them to me before pulling out a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries. Then she sets to work, lighting the fire.
I pop the cork and pour us each a glass. We take a few sips and munch on the strawberries before I pull my guitar onto my lap and start strumming a little tune for her. Her smile is radiant. “Maybe you can teach me,” she suggests shyly.
I lift the guitar up and pat the spot between my legs. She settles in front of me, and I wrap my arms around her, resting the guitar on her lap. I take her hands, placing mine over hers, entwining our fingers. “Like this,” I whisper into her ear. She shivers against me as we drag our fingers over the strings.
We play her favorite song. We don’t sing the words we just play the melody.
Life is good. Sweet.
Definitely worth living.
There was a time I didn’t believe it was.
But the girl in the basement gave me hope.
Now she’s giving me so much more.
Hope. Laughter. Companionship. Love.
She pushes the guitar off her lap gently, turning to give me another kiss. Her lips are so soft. So perfect.
“Would you stay with me tonight?” she asks, startling me out of my head.
“Um…”
“Not like that. I mean stay in the house with me. If you’re okay with sleeping on the couch. I do want to take this further… but not here. I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she says quickly.
Brushing her hair away from her face, I reassure her, “Yes, I will stay.”
Her shoulders drop in relief. The corner of her mouth tugs up on one side. “You could invite me over to your place this weekend, though.” Her cheeks heat to an alarming level and I see the gears in her head turning as she scolds herself for being so bold.
David warned me about times like this. Her fucking dad put a lot of shit in her head.
“Hey, look at me.” She does. “I would love for you to come stay with me this weekend. But we take it at our own pace. There is no right, no wrong. It’s…” I drop my head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman,” I finally admit. My own cheeks are probably redder than hers.
She cups my face, running her thumbs over my short beard. “Are you nervous about it?”
I nod, feeling a bit humiliated by my admission, but I am nervous. I’m worried about showing her all of me.
“Me too. But we’ll talk our way through it?”
“I’d like that.”
She kisses me, drowning me in all that is her. If only I had gills, I’d never come up for air.
“How about another glass of wine before we head in?” I grab the bottle, but she quickly pulls it away from me.
She holds it in her lap, staring at the label.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, hoping she isn’t allergic to this brand or something.
“It’s a butterfly,” she says in awe.
“Yeah, I bought it because I thought the bottle was cool. I don’t really know much about wine,” I tell her, laughing lightly at how much she seems to like it.
“I’ve been so worried that this is all too soon,” she says quietly. “I’ve been waiting for a sign. Something to let me know that it’s okay. This is it.” April rubs her finger lovingly over the bright blue butterfly on the bottle.
“We should write a song together.”
“What?” She laughs, tears running down her cheeks.
“I think you have a lot of love songs in you.” I gently take the bottle from her.
She accepts her glass with a smile. I announce a toast, “Here’s to the beautiful music we are going to make together.”
Her smile blinds me. She clinks her glass to mine before we take a drink. Our eyes meet over the rim of our glasses.
Can you see this, David? Your little diamond is shining so bright tonight.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
April
I’m going to throw up.
“What about this one?” Teresa holds up a little black negligée.
“I don’t know.” I run the material through my fingers, biting back tears.
“Let me get it for you. My treat,” she says, hurrying to the counter before I can stop her.
I’m not sure why I told her. Maybe I was hoping she would talk me out of this. Tell me it’s crazy, that it’s only been six months. Six lousy months. It’s too soon.
But then I think about his hands, his beautiful hands and how they would feel on my skin. See, that’s all it takes to make me ache for him. I’m craving a deeper connection but at the same time, it feels wrong. It feels like I’m cheating on my husband.
The rest of day goes by in a blur and before I know it, it’s time to go to Westin’s.
