Catch My Breath

by Wendy L. Wilson

  Pausing from towel drying her hair, she looks at me with an unreadable expression that’s about to make my head explode from anticipation. Slowly a smile emerges on her face.

  “Romantic?”

  I smile with a flood of relief and nod, “Yeah.”

  “Come on,” she waves her hand, already heading in the direction of the girl’s cabin. I follow with no clue of what is up her sleeve.

  Inside, she seems to already have something planned as she heads straight to Alyssa’s cot and grabs a bag from underneath the bed then disappears into the bathroom. I sit down on Alyssa’s cot, waiting patiently. On the floor, I spot a small bag that is unzipped and pulled open. Looking down, I assume it is her bathroom bag that I’ve seen her carry into the shower house on several occasions. A tall clear bottle with a pink-tinted liquid about halfway to the top peeks out like it’s flagging me down for attention. Hoping this isn’t an invasion of privacy, I reach down and grab it, noting the picture of a spilt bowl of strawberries on the front. I flip the cap open and pull it to my nose to take a deep whiff, already knowing the exact fragrance I’ll be met with. Geez, I could get lost in that. It smells just like her; just like my pillow smelled this morning and the same scent that I’ve noticed on my shirt after she has spent the night pressed up against my chest. Snapping the lid shut quickly as a floorboard lets out a moan behind me, I slip the bottle back into her bag right as Abby comes out of the bathroom.

  “Ok, so I figured I will just send her whole bag over. I doubt she will be back here today.” She stops in front of me and leans down to gather all of Alyssa’s things, pulling up the small bathroom bag with a smile on her face. Of course she probably caught me pilfering through her sister’s private stuff.

  “That sounds good. I’ll drop it off at the cabin here in a bit. So, I wanted tonight to be sort of … umm …” embarrassment creeps in once again and I pause. I thought it would be simple to ask for her help, but I really hope she doesn’t think I’m some asshole like Alyssa’s ex, just in this for one thing. Like Evan said, it definitely looks like sex is what I have planned.

  “Romantic?” Abby finishes again with a snicker as she stands up with Alyssa’s bag in hand.

  I quickly lift off the bed and pull the bag out of her hand. “Ahhh … pretty much, but not so I can …” I look at her uneasy and just say it, “I’m not expecting anything, at all.”

  “Uh huh,” she says skeptically, eye balling me like I’m some sexual predator that she desperately needs to analyze before she sets me loose back into the real world. Squinting her eyes for a minute, she slowly eases her unconvinced expression and shakes her head. “Ok, if you want it to be romantic, you need candles. Lots of candles.”

  “I have the keys to Evan’s jeep this morning. You care to run to town with me and help me set things up?”

  Abby doesn’t even hesitate, turning to head to the door immediately. That wasn’t so bad after all, but as we near the jeep she questions my intentions.

  “So why did you rent a cabin if you’re not going over there just to get in her pants?” Her bluntness jolts me to attention with my eyebrows raised, mouth drawn open and not a single word coming to mind as she goes on, “She said you’re not like your brother, was she wrong?”

  Her words challenge everything I have planned and turn this into anything other than comfortable. Of course, I’m not planning to throw her on the bed as soon as we get there and if I get the smallest inkling of doubt from her, I will hand the keys back to the front desk and gladly take her to the dock to watch the fireworks. Deep down, I do think that it will fall in that direction, but I would never force it or pressure her. When we are together, it is so hard to put the brakes on, but I really want our first time to be perfect. I’ve never had that. Nor have I ever had a relationship. I wasn’t lying to her when I said this is all kinds of new to me and I love every cheesy, sappy moment.

  “Ummm … I … Ahhh …” I’m at a loss, staring at her like a petrified animal backed into a corner.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she slaps her hand across the front of the jeep and bursts out, laughing. “Relax, Judd.” She waves her hand before hopping into the passenger seat. “I know there is no way you could be as bad as Tristan.”

  Climbing into the driver’s side with the keys already in hand, my shoulders drop as I spit out a nervous chuckle and release all efforts of finding the right words to convince her of my devotion to Alyssa. As soon as the engine roars, I catch Tristan running towards the jeep. Shit! This is all I need while Abby and I are discussing my objective for the night. Let’s have a damn Sex Ed class and school Judd!

  “Whoa … hold up, you two!” He grabs a hold of the roll bar on the Jeep and in one swoop is lounged in the backseat as if we invited him. “Hey, sexy,” he says, leaning into Abby’s ear while tossing a strand of her hair aside.

  “Oh great.” She rolls her eyes and I laugh. “Seriously, are you invited?”

  “Tristan, we were just running to town for a bit. Do you mind?” I sweep my eyes to the side of the vehicle hoping he catches my hint to take a hike.

  “Great,” he claps his hands. “I need to get some stuff, too … let’s go,” he declares in a more enthusiastic tone than I think I’ve ever heard from him.

  “Perfect! What on earth do you need or is this just an excuse to pester the hell out of me?” Abby spits and I can’t help but admire her feistiness. Tristan needs that, although he probably views it as playing hard to get.

  “I saw a fireworks stand behind that old grocery store when we came in. We should stock up for tonight. What the hell is the Fourth with no ammunition?” Abby and I both stare back at him as he looks back and forth between us wildly with the resemblance of an excited little kid.

  Coming to terms that there is no getting rid of him, I put it in reverse and we head off to the adjoining town that consists of only a gas station, super market and an old-time diner. We make it there in less than twenty minutes and the first place we go is a fireworks stand. Here we are, all at the lake for the Fourth of July and not one of us thought to get fireworks … well, except Tristan, it seems. Maybe the top half of his body still works after all; there may be hope for him yet.

  “Would you stop blowing in my ear, Tristan,” Abby huffs out as I put it in park.

  I glance over, nearly wanting to crack up from her resistance to him. She jabs at him with her elbow as he leans towards her seat, dang near nibbling on her ear.

  “Would you stop it!” she snaps but with the hint of a smile. Oh no, not her too.

  She smacks him across the arm, but Tristan rifles back demolishing her efforts of refusal, “Oh yeah … hit me again baby. I like it rough.”

  I subtly toss my head back in exasperation of his usual perverse and demeaning comments.

  “Geez, let’s go.” I kill the engine and jump out, noticing Abby’s eagerness to exit the vehicle as well.

  Beneath the canopy of the worn out red tent that nearly appears as a shade of pink, Abby wanders around table after table with my brother quick on her heels. From across the way, I manage to enjoy all his advances getting shot down with a swat of her hand, an equally quick witted comment or her just flipping around to give him the finger. I want so badly to rush over and give her a big hug. This is the first damn girl that I’ve ever witnessed not cave to his charm; it’s about time.

  I fill my basket up quickly, as does Tristan and Abby. Once he slips away to look at some huge ass skyrockets that look pretty enticing to me as well, Abby pulls me aside.

  Grabbing me by the shirt sleeve, which is sticking to my skin from the strangling humidity, she leans closer to speak, “Ok so I’m assuming you don’t want Tristan in on the whole sleep over going on tonight?”

  I shrug, not even caring at this point. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the one that got the cabin so he can think what he wants.”

  “Oh,” she sounds surprised as her voice raises an octave. “Tristan got it?” She looks over my shoulder then back at
me. I nod. “Well, how about you stay here and keep him busy while I run to the store to see what they have.”

  Her offer fills me with reassurance that I’ve gained her trust and even though I should be ashamed for not going myself, I’m extremely thankful that she is willing to get the other things we came for. I’d surely screw it up and get some perfumed candles that Alyssa is allergic to or something that would make the cabin smell like a toilet; this is better left in her hands.

  With a quick nod and a smile, I agree with her plan. Maybe this will keep my brothers relentless teasing at bay for today at least. I’m sure when we show back up on our side of the lake tomorrow morning the jokes will start to fly. The one lucky thing that all the teasing has done is stocked me with condoms for life.

  She runs off, but not before casting a skeptical glance past me to Tristan. I waste no time joining him to pick out a couple more fireworks so we can get back quickly, but nostalgia has me remembering Fourth of July’s when we were kids. I laugh and bring it up hesitantly, not sure of whether he may fly off the handle with me dredging up a memory.

  “You remember the time we picked out a ton of parachute launchers and had Dad light them all at the same time? Then Jake, you and me all frantically threw firecrackers into the air in hopes to knock them out of the sky. It was a full on war in our backyard.”

  Tristan and I crack up.

  “Shit, I remember that. We all yelled, ‘arm yourselves for battle’ and blam!” we laugh and he goes on with another story. “Hey, you remember when you were … oh gosh; I think you were six or so. Jake was a little thing and we went camping after the Fourth with a whole bunch of left over fireworks.” He laughs while he talks and I get a glimpse of the brother I used to have; the one I miss; the one Jake and I always looked up to. “Dad thought it would be impressive if he lit up five or six fountains at once. You remember how Mom loved fountains …” He looks off and his voice cracks as my heart tightens.

  I nod; I remember everything.

  “So he goes up to those fountains with a lit punk and you and Jake are going all sorts of crazy, excited for the show to start. I was only nine or ten but I kept my eye on all the branches above the fireworks, thinking the whole time about how we learned about firework safety tips from the conservation department the week before that. I just kept thinking, is this safe, but then I thought, well … Dad is the adult. He should know whether it’s ok or not.” Tristan takes a breath and chuckles. “So I didn’t say a word until he got them lit. Crack, crack, crack, they start going off and Dad runs over beside me and the first thing I do is lean over and say …” Tristan lowers his voice and mocks his motions from that night, leaning towards my shoulder with his hand held by his face as if he’s telling a secret.

  I burst out laughing at the memory, also leaning closer so I can hear what he told Dad that night.

  “Dad, you think those branches are flammable?” his face breaks open into a huge grin as he continues his walk down memory lane. “I was so proud of myself for remembering that word because I saw it on several of the packages. Dad didn’t say a word, his face goes white as a sheet and he snaps his head around right as the tree branch goes ablaze.”

  “Oh man, I remember that. Holy shit, the campers around us all ran over, tossing their crap out of their coolers, filling them up with water and throwing it in the air. It was crazy. Mom grabbed us and pulled us away from the whole thing,” my mouth stretches and stretches, joining in with Tristan’s rare laughter that I thought had died along with Mom.

  “Yes!” he hollers and I look around to see how many eyes are watching us. “Oh my gosh … that was insane. The police showed up and gave Dad a citation for using fireworks after the holiday then the fire department ended up having to hose down the tree.”

  “What was left of it,” I add.

  “Yeah, it looked like a measly old, burnt French fry after it was all said and done.”

  “And that next year, Mom insisted on scoping out the perfect spot for fireworks. Even then, Dad set those fountains up with caution, looking around a hundred times and trying to scope out anything that could possibly blow into the line of fire … literally.”

  Tristan’s smile deepens to the point where I think he may fall to the floor in laughter, his eyes animated with thrill and amusement as if we were right there again. July Fourth was always a big deal when we were kids. It was a favorite of mine and obviously his.

  Placing his hand at his stomach, he finishes my thoughts, “He held his hands up, figuring the trajectory of each shot before he would light the damn thing. He was calculating that shit for about thirty minutes until Mom yelled, ‘Come on Scott …’”

  “I’ll do it!” we both say at the same time, busting up in a fit of hysterics.

  We make eye contact, the look of two brothers, two friends reunited after years apart, but then Tristan suddenly stands straight, clearing his throat. “Anyways …” he takes on a more serious tone with his smile long gone.

  My smile falters and I look over at the table beside us, noticing a boat load of fireworks Mom would have gravitated to. “Hey …” I smile, clasping a large fountain in my hand and holding it up to show Tristan. “You want to get some fountains … kind of in memory of Mom … in her honor?”

  Before I can finish, Tristan is shaking his head with a frown on his face and his hand in a fist at his side. “No!” he snaps, his forehead crinkling as his frown deepens. “No fountains. Let’s not talk about em!”

  My heart and hopes fall with his bitterness and I don’t say a word, I just watch as he walks to the check out. Sometimes, I just wish he would realize that holding onto the good times in the past isn’t all together a bad thing. Yeah, the outcome sucked, but it wasn’t always bad. Maybe keeping the better times close to our hearts would help bring us together instead of how we deal with it, which has most definitely pushed us apart.

  After we have everything paid for we meet Abby back at the jeep and head back to the lake. Even though Tristan has tagged along, I move forward with my plans to stop by the cabin that I rented for the night. We go by the main office and pick up my key first then swing by so I can drop off Alyssa’s bag and all that Abby bought.

  “I’ll wait out here,” Tristan says as he eyes a couple girls splashing in the water in the distance, for once ignoring Abby. I guess she pissed him off with her constant refusal to play his games.

  Inside, I go into the bathroom to place Alyssa’s bag on the vanity while Abby goes in the back bedroom to set out all the candles. Exiting the bathroom, I see that she went all out in the candle department. There must be two dozen of them spread throughout the room. I laugh and look over at her as she places a few more candles on the nightstand.

  “Ok, so assuming I’m going to have a crate full of matches and about an hour to sneak in here and light all these while she waits outside …” I chuckle, giving her a sarcastic smile. “This is … ummm … great.”

  She claps her hands and squeals, possibly oblivious to my sarcasm or maybe just excited for her sister.

  “You know, I’m only going to have a few minutes to light these, right?” I raise my eyebrows and gaze around the room to take in what Alyssa will see later.

  “I know, but you’ll get them all lit. If you want romantic then you need to go big,” she holds her hands out and pivots back and forth so I can take in the entire view. “And … make sure you keep the bedroom light off...that way it’s more magical,” she lowers her voice to a whisper on the last word and I laugh, nodding my head at her cheesiness.

  “I want romance, but I also don’t want to start a forest fire.” My comment is almost ironic, considering that’s what Tristan and I just discussed.

  Abby giggles then pulls a box out of the paper bag. Good gosh, not more condoms! How long does she think we are going to be over here! A whole box! All of sudden, with a sneaky grin on her face she tosses a bunch of red crap all over the bed. What the hell is that? Once they settle, I see she has covered the bed in
rose petals. Ok, this is going a tad bit overboard. I want romance but I’m not setting up a honeymoon suite or anything.

  I fold my arms across my chest and stare at her. “Don’t you think that is a little too much?”

  She quickly puts her finger up to stop me from talking and hands me the bag. “Shush … now go put the rest of this in the fridge so it is fresh tonight.”

  I, of course, oblige and head into the kitchen, without another word. Wait, what the hell needs to be refrigerated? Pulling the fridge door open, I reach into the bag, curious and a tad worried. My mouth drops open as I pull out one thing after another.

  “Abby, what the hell?”

  She laughs hysterically as she enters the room and takes in my expression. I stand with the door of the fridge open and with my mouth also wide open holding a can of spray whipped cream and chocolate syrup.

  “I thought you might want those in case your night headed in a kinky direction.”

  I snap my mouth shut and shake my head, an ocean of ease and relief washing over me. I think me and Abby are going to be pretty good friends. What the hell would I have done without her today?

  WE CONTINUE TO LAUGH our way out to the jeep and wrangle Tristan up from the group of girls he has latched onto down at the beach. I glance at the clock, my anxiety kicking up that it is already a little past noon. I’ve been gone an hour and a half. I really hope she isn’t awake yet.

  The discussion about Mom and Dad must have put Tristan on edge because the ride back is pretty quiet between the three of us.

  Glancing into the rearview mirror, I think twice about his apparent foul mood as I catch him staring at Abby with a pouting expression like she just took away the last toy in the sandbox; only she’s the toy. Fine by me; last thing I need is Tristan hooking up with Alyssa’s sister and that going south. That could definitely pose a problem in my relationship.