If I were a cartoon character, smoke would have rolled out of my ears. I stepped up so I stood inches from her. "That woman, as you so tactlessly put it, feeds your daughter lunch every day." I fingered a pearl on her necklace carefully, half thinking to strangle her with it, and enjoyed the way her eyes got big. I stabbed a finger at the dining room. "She... has more class in her cute little painted toenails than you do in your entire bony-assed body." I released her necklace but continued to glare at her.
At some point, The Suit had showed, and I glanced over to see him standing inside the door, leaning against the wall, with a huge smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said smoothly, offering the woman his elbow. "Darling?"
"Gerald!" she yelped. The sharpness of her voice pierced my eardrums. She stormed past The Suit and through the glass revolving door, taking it to maximum speed.
The man roared with laughter, tipped his head to me, and said, "Enjoy your evening."
I grinned. "And good luck with yours."
He snorted. "Thanks. I'll need it." Then he rolled out the door.
I returned to the table, Sam looking at me evenly as I sat. "I thought the bathrooms were to the left."
I gave her my most charming smile. "I got lost." I snapped the napkin into my lap, feeling very satisfied with the situation, and sipped my wine. Luckily, Sam let it drop.
Our dinner tasted sinfully good, and, after I paid the bill, we walked out together hand-in-hand, presumably heading to the parking lot. But, at the last minute, I ducked into an elevator heading up, yanking her in with me. Two other couples were in there, but I ignored them.
"What? Are we going for a nightcap? It's getting kind of late."
I shook my head, holding her by the hips again, and looking at her with a grin.
"We're not?"
"Nope." The others were looking at us curiously. I slid a key out of my pocket.
She gasped. "You got us a room? But what about the kids? They can't—"
"The kids are at Bill's."
"They are?"
I hoped this wouldn't be a problem, as she already called like half-a-dozen times to check on them. "Yeah. Ryan was in on it."
"Why that sneaky little bastard. You two planned this all along?" I nodded. Sam turned to the others in the elevator. "You may want to avert your eyes, cause I'm about to kiss the heck out of this guy." Without further warning, she took hold of the sides of my face and gave me a kiss that, again, if I were a cartoon character, would have birdies floating around my head. As it was, I let out an involuntary moan as the door dinged open.
"Our floor," I rasped, jerking her out of the elevator. I turned and waved at the other couples still on the elevator. The women stood there, openmouthed, and the guys gave me a "you dog" look. We found our room, and, it was impressive... huge, luxurious, and only a footnote as we began to rip each other's clothes off.
She stopped me at one point and said, "You know, I don't usually do this on the first date."
"Shut up and come here." I made love to her that night every way I knew how, then discovered some more new ways.
I struggled to keep thoughts of my departure at the end of the week at bay, but they still crept in from time-to-time, especially when she lay asleep, exhausted, in my arms. I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in any freakin' hotel room without her there, her hard little body pressed to mine, her heart beating a rhythm I gave it after our lovemaking, while mine beat only for her.
Danielle
When I heard someone get up in the other room, I got out of bed and tripped to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Thanks to my shower in the middle of the night, my hair looked rich and glossy, and so did the circles under my eyes. I reached for my concealer, noticing it was low once again, and began to slather it on. I scrambled around, searching the counter for the eye drops I knew would do me little good, and began my day as usual.
As everyone began to trickle in, I made eggs and bacon, trying to use the rest of our groceries, slicing the remaining strawberries and cantaloupe. I'd already packed a picnic lunch, to save us money on the road and give us a healthier choice. We were burnt out, by this point, with fast food joints. Tucker helped me, but we danced around each other, troubled by our own thoughts.
After we packed everything into our separate vehicles, emphasizing the fact we would go our separate ways soon, we drove to Peninsula State Park. Another beautiful day greeted us, the air smelt fresh and woodsy, and the car hopped from shade to sunny-spot like a kid following the pattern on linoleum. I enjoyed the road winding upward, as every road seemed straight and mind-numbingly flat in Illinois, not to mention a fair lack of trees. Tucker pulled into the small, dirt lot of the White Cedar Nature Center, and we rolled out of the doors.
Near the entry to the building, an excitable ranger showed us the sea lamprey which was caught that morning, displayed on a tree trunk. I looked at the slug-like creature, my curiosity stirred, then the ranger lifted the yellow cord around it to show its underside. My bacon and eggs revolted. It was all mouth on the bottom. The ranger explained the parasitic animal preyed on fish, attaching itself to them with its suction cup mouth. Not only that, but the lamprey's saliva contained an anti-coagulant substance which caused the fish to basically bleed out. They estimate each lamprey might be responsible for the deaths of as many as fifteen to forty pounds of fish during its life. I quickly distanced myself from the little eel-like fiend but had a quirky thought the yellow rope attached to it made it look like it was going out on a walk with the ranger on its yellow leash.
Inside the building—which once served as a shelter for hunters to warm up in—we meandered among various taxidermy of native wildlife for a bit, then we left to drive to the lookout tower at the top of Eagle Bluff. The observation tower, located on top of a one hundred-eighty-foot limestone cliff, was originally built in order to give rangers a better place to spot forest fires, but eventually became a tourist attraction from which you could gather views of the park, the Michigan shoreline, and the surrounding islands. That is, if you ventured to climb it. Because of my fear of heights, I waited below while my crew scrambled to the top, fearless Tabitha in the lead. I couldn't even watch. Instead, I rambled through the trees, out on the cliff, but not too far out, and turned my eyes to my camera lens. By the time Tucker and company returned, I had some impressive photos in my camera's memory.
We ate our lunch at a picnic table, then decided to hike it off, taking the Sentinel Trail. The tall and stately trees standing guard along the pathway gave it its name. Our group soon split into two, the younger trio and the older couple who followed in their wake, actually stopping to read the signs along the way and learn a thing or two about their surroundings. We called our hikers back a few times to share with them important info, then they'd speed off again, often walking hand-in-hand or with their arms linked over each other's shoulders. I took pictures of them from behind and ignored the hollow feeling in my heart when I brought the lens down and realized their time, as well as ours, soon would come to an end. Tucker and I plodded along quietly, filled paradoxically with a kind of peace being together always brought, and with the dread of knowing each step along the path brought us one step closer to our parting.
When we returned to the cars, we delayed the inevitable separation of our families by agreeing to stay the night together in Madison before the highway took them west, while we continued south. As it fell out, Scott rode along with Tabby and I, the two of them tucked into the backseat coloring. Their sing-songy chatter lulled me after a while, though my heart was heavy and hot. I adjusted my rearview mirror so I could see them better. Tabby smiled brightly as she showed her picture to Scottie, who leaned over the edge of her car-seat to look at it, exclaiming over it enthusiastically.
"Now write everyone's names, okay?" Tabby bossed.
"Okay. This one is my dad, right?" Scott pointed to the paper, his black crayon at the ready.
She nodded vigorously. I tuned them out aga
in and glanced in my side-view mirror to be sure Tucker still followed me as we drew near to the park entrance and the highway that would take us on a path to Madison. My mind couldn't help but rewind the past several days, scenes of Tabby and Tucker on the water slide, me trying to help Scott in the bathroom, Zoe triumphantly high-fiving me when we finished her mirror... every shot in my mind condemning me.
"Here, Mommy. This is for you."
Her voice broke through my painful reminiscing. I glanced at the construction paper picture with a weak smile. "Thanks, Tab. It's beautiful," I made myself answer.
I laid it on the seat next to me without another thought. But, several more miles down the road, something made me turn and take a second look at it. The picture showed Tucker and me hand in hand, with Tabby, Scott, and Zoe holding hands, under a rainbow. The happy, smiling, crayon stick figures stared out of the picture at me, speaking through their Crayola Orange-Red mouths directly to my heart a message I wasn't able to hear before. Something released inside, like a deadbolt being drawn open. I pulled over so suddenly Tucker actually shot past me. He maneuvered to the shoulder a couple of yards ahead and immediately jumped out of his vehicle.
He ran toward me with a look of concern and, while still several yards away, shouted, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I answered gleefully.
"I was afraid you fell asleep at the wheel. Are you sure you will make it the rest of the way to—"
"Look at this." I held out the piece of construction paper.
"Aww," he said automatically. "That's really sweet." Then he looked at me and cocked his head, his forehead wrinkling. "You pulled over to show me this?"
"No. I pulled over because I wanted to tell you I love you," I practically shouted at him. "And I want to make that picture come true. I want us to be a family, Tucker."
His head jerked a little, and he took a step back, blinking. He took hold of my elbows and bent to look me directly in the eyes, hope glowing in the depths of his even as he tried to stay cautious. "Are you sure? I don't want to rush you into—"
"I'm sure, Tucker," I said emphatically. "I've been afraid. Afraid to give myself again, afraid to hurt again." I shook my head, holding up the picture once more. "But seeing this picture, it made me realize—as strange as this may sound after such a brief time—we're already a family. You and me, and Scott, Zoe and Tabby. I realize now how much that means to me. And, I'm willing to risk anything for that, even the pain of losing it. In other words, I'll take whatever time God gives us and be thankful for it."
He encircled me in his arms, laying his cheek on top of my hair, overwhelmed. "I love you, Dani," he finally whispered. "And I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you, starting right this second." He lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine like a final seal.
An old blue Chevy flew by with some teenage boys in it. "Get a room!" they shouted out the window.
We laughed. He spoke first. "I don't want to leave you to go back to my car."
"I know," I replied, giving him another squeeze. "But we'll be together tonight. Just think about that."
"Okay." He kissed me one last time, then turned to walk to his SUV, pure joy on his face.
I laughed out loud, feeling thrillingly free, like I floated, and got behind the wheel of my vehicle to follow Tucker wherever he led.
Chapter 21
Tucker
I returned to the SUV, a little stunned, and very happy.
"What?" Zoe asked when I got in, smiling at me with her eyebrows drawn together.
I smiled, edging out into the road. "What do you think about Danielle?" I asked cautiously.
"You know I think she's great. Why are you asking?"
"I know you said we were moving too fast for you. I want to—"
"Come on, Dad. I was being an idiot."
I put my hand on her knee. "No, no. How you feel is important to me. Very important."
"Dad, whatever you are trying to ask me, I wish you'd spit it out."
"How would you feel about... the possibility... of adding to our family?"
She paled. "Danielle's pregnant?"
I clapped her knee. "No, silly. What I meant was... what would you feel about... my getting... married?"
I wasn't prepared for her reaction. She slapped my shoulder, almost causing me to veer into oncoming traffic. "Get out!" she screamed, her face beaming. "Get out! Is that what the kiss was about back there?"
I wasn't sure if she was telling me to get out of the car, or what, exactly, she was saying, but she looked extremely happy so I motored on. "Yes, sort of."
"Oh, my gosh. Can I call Emily?"
Emily was her best bud. "Yeah. But to tell her what?"
"That you're getting married to Danielle, and I'm going to have a little sister!" she squealed. "I can't believe this. The way you were acting the other day, I was afraid you guys were breaking up."
I was, too.
"Then I would have to run away and reason with you two until you came to your senses, and that would have been a pain because I wouldn't know what to pack and—"
"So you're okay with it?" I asked in relief.
"Okay with it? Okay with it? I think it's great. You love her, she loves you—what's not to like about that scenario? Does Scottie know?"
Instinctively, I glanced in the rearview mirror, as if I could see his face, and even if I could, how much would that tell me? "I don't think so. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to him about it until I get a chance to discuss it with him," I added, trying to sound stern.
She ignored my request. "How did you propose?"
I frowned. "Well, I didn't, exactly—"
Her face fell. "You didn't propose?"
"We were talking about it, and she was unsure at first. But Tabby drew her a picture, and... somehow that convinced her everything would be okay. And she said she wanted to marry us... or me, I guess." I still couldn't believe it was true.
"Well, you still have to propose, and it has to be very romantic. Danielle deserves that."
"But, I'm not a romantic guy, Zo."
"Uh-uh. You ain't using that cop-out. You better figure out something, and it better be good. Something she'll enjoy telling her friends for years to come."
"Geez, Zo. I—"
She held up a hand to silence me as she dialed her friend, Emily, with her other hand. "I don't want to hear it."
I closed my mouth and spent the rest of the trip sweating as I sought to concoct a plan. When we rolled into the parking lot of our hotel in Madison, I switched off the engine, staring straight ahead. "I need you to babysit tonight, Zo."
She looked at me with a sly smile. "Does this have something to do with a proposal by any chance?"
I narrowed my eyes at her, testy after four hours of desperate scheming, with zero results. "Get off my back, Zoe Marie."
She smiled, leaning toward the door as she felt for the handle, careful to remove herself from my reach before speaking. "Ooh. Somebody's cranky." She screamed when I dove for her and opened the door, slamming it behind her and making faces at me through the window. I got out.
"Real mature."
"Yeah. Whatever." She laughed.
We both walked toward Dani's Fiat, and I made a sudden lunge, catching my daughter by the waist and swinging her around, her shrieks filling the parking lot. Dani's car emptied out, and its former occupants stood staring at us, Scott and Tabby frowning, and Dani beaming. I set Zoe on the ground and walked to Dani. She moved around her two passengers and ran the short distance to me, hopping at the last second into my arms and planting a tremendous kiss on me as she wrapped her legs around my waist. Zoe laughed merrily, but Tabby and Scott continued to shake their heads at the wild antics.
We checked in, and I took Scott aside to talk to him. He was as thrilled as Zoe was, so it would seem all was clear.
I whispered in Dani's ear, "You wanna run an errand with me? Zoe said she'd watch the kids."
A grin split her fac
e. "Sure."
I had looked up jewelers while in the other room and actually called the front desk to see if they could recommend someone. They were happy to help and gave me directions. Dani was so thrilled to be alone together she didn't ask where we were going, merely chatted happily beside me, holding my hand. She didn't even look over when we pulled in front of the store at first. She got out, finished her story, and looked around.
"So, what are we doing here?"
"I thought we might go in there," I said, taking her hand and leading her forward.
"Oh, my gosh!" she squeaked. "You mean... oh, but you don't have to get me a ring, Tucker."
"I think that's traditional," I responded, confused.
"Yeah, but—"
"Are we doing this, or what?" I asked, stopping to look at her.
"Oh, yes. Yes. I haven't changed my mind or anything. It's just... you don't have to spend that kind of money on me."
"Darlin', if we're going to get married, you'll need to get used to me buying you a thing or two."
She blushed, then looked at the store again, her voice high-pitched as she asked, "Really, today?" She practically vibrated with excitement. I had to laugh.
"Today. Right now."
She kissed me, then practically sprinted into the store. The salespeople, who must have seen us kissing on their front steps, seemed to know they had a sale coming. They rushed to help us immediately. It wasn't nearly the ordeal picking out a ring with Gina had been. We sat on a pair of stools, the saleslady asked Dani a couple of questions, and probably drew out five rings in all. Dani picked out a very simple wedding set and couldn't be persuaded, by me or the saleslady, to consider anything else. I had to admit, it looked so right on her hand it sent a shiver down my spine. The ring fit perfectly so they took it away to clean it. Dani gave me another kiss, already glowing like a bride. When they brought it back, I snatched it before she could try it on again.
She pouted. "I don't get it yet?" She batted her eyelashes, which was damn cute, but I stuck to my guns.
"I haven't officially proposed yet," I reminded her.
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