As Right As Rain

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As Right As Rain Page 11

by J. M. Maurer


  Eli’s change of assignment to cover for the cameraman on leave is still keeping us apart at work. But that hasn’t stopped him from texting me, or from replacing the bundle of flowers he has delivered to my office with new ones after I take them home at the end of each workday.

  Now my apartment has a fragrance any girl would enjoy. It’s just missing that one most important scent that reminds me of a soft cleansing rain on a warm summer day back home in Oklahoma. On the up side, Eli’s on his way over, and I have four beautiful vases replacing the plastic cups I used with the first bundle of flowers he gave me. I can’t help but admire the beauty of the painted swirls in the crystal and the bouquets made up of sprigs of pine, purple lilacs, and petite red roses.

  With the colors blended together in each vase, I suspect Eli’s trying to help me decorate my apartment for the holidays. His gesture is working, but I also know the purple lilacs mean something more than merely a pretty color addition, or just another flower that’s pleasing to the eye. A master with his hidden messages, I know what he’s saying.

  And what he’s saying is… Love at first sight.

  A flutter ransacks my heart as I smile. He really was paying attention when we visited the botanical gardens. Seriously, I can’t help but love him even more.

  The ping of my phone pulls me out of my memories of touring the gardens with Eli, and sends me straight to the text message that’s waiting for me when I pick up my phone.

  ELI: Buzz me in, beautiful.

  MAKAYLA: Yes, Mr. Bossy Pants.

  ELI: You haven’t seen MBP… yet.

  He adds a winky face and, once again, my thoughts head straight to the gutter.

  Anxious to see him, I stand in my doorway and wait for his arrival. When he waddles up to my door carrying a fresh pine tree balanced with precision on one shoulder and the strap of a large duffel bag draped over the other, my mouth goes slack and my eyes go wide in surprise. I offer to help, but predictably, he waves me off.

  “How about you move your pretty self away from the door so I can come in?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Can do, Mr. Bossy Pants.” I slide to the side with a wink, and then usher him in with a silly flick of my wrist and finish off with a bow.

  He snickers and heads to the family room, where he flattens my carpet as he turns in a tight circle. Facing me, he dips one shoulder and lets the bag fall to the floor. “Where would you like me to put the tree?”

  I shrug, too excited to really care. “I don’t know. I didn’t even think about getting a Christmas tree.” I make a mental note to Google how to care for the tree. I’m sure water is critical. But how much… I’ll figure that out later. For now, I can’t stop smiling and hold up a finger. “Wait here.”

  I bolt to the closet in the second bedroom and snatch a box I packed my stuff in when I moved, then zip into my bedroom, making certain to listen intently as Eli hollers. He’s going on about how far away he had to park and how he managed to get the tree up to my apartment all by himself. His words warm my heart. I smile, even though I know he can’t see me, and grab an extra top sheet, returning just as Eli finishes embellishing his story.

  “I even had to traipse through several feet of snow. And fight off a sleuth of polar bears,” he adds, his voice rich with a boyish excitement I love.

  “And dragons,” I say, making certain my tone is filled with concern. “Did you slay the dragons?”

  A laugh lifts from deep within his throat. “But of course.”

  My heart hammers a little faster as I look up at Eli and think about all he went through just to bring me a tree. His gaze captures mine. Those eyes. There is just something remarkable about their resplendent beauty. I could stare into them all day.

  Knowing this isn’t the time for ogling, I stash the sheet on the box and dart in for a hug, absentmindedly forgetting that he’s still holding a nicely sized pine. “Thank you, Eli. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  “I’m glad you like it, but will you pick a spot so I can put it down?”

  “Well.” I head to the corner of the room beside the sliding doors to the balcony, and toss the beanbag seat toward my couch, seeing a horizontal blur of snow falling outside through the chilled panes of glass. The howling wind makes me thankful Eli and I aren’t out working in it. With the green contrasting beautifully against the fresh layer of snow, I decide the corner is the perfect spot. “Let’s put it here.”

  “Let’s?” he says, quirking a brow. Then he takes a few steps forward and lowers the tree to the corner. “Yes, let us put the tree here for now.”

  “Hey.” I jokingly slap his muscled arm. “I moved the beanbag.”

  “That you did.” He pulls me in for a kiss. “And you did a superb job of bending over and taking your time.”

  “I did not.”

  “Did too.” He kisses me again, effectively shutting me up.

  We rock side to side, my arms around the back of his neck, his clasping a tight hold on my waist.

  “Maybe I did,” I admit. “And maybe you liked it.”

  “Oh, I more than liked it, but we’ve got a lot to do if you want to get this decorated before we head over for Christmas Eve dinner with my mom.”

  “This shouldn’t take long. I’m not sure how much decorating we’re going to be able to do. I don’t have a single ornament.”

  Eli softens his grin. “You don’t have any… yet. We’ll work on that. Don’t worry. Our tree is going to be beautiful. I promise.”

  Our tree.

  Happiness fills my heart that he also thinks of the tree as ours. “You’re right. Even with it sitting cockeyed and tied up, our tree already looks beautiful.” I pull his hand and take him over to the box we’re about to turn into a makeshift table. “I’m not sure how to care for a tree but I was thinking we could use the sheet as a blanket for the box and put the tree on top. What do you think?”

  “I think we have an excellent idea. Yes, let’s do it.” He winks, and I melt a little more. “I’ll set up the box. How about you get us some scissors. And don’t worry about the tree. I signed you up for a twelve-step care program when I bought it.”

  “I had no idea these things thrive on spiked eggnog.”

  “Dutch gin and tonic. Tiny Pine told me so, shortly after I slayed the dragons. It was cause for celebration, you know.” He winks. “And no worries, I took care of the first few steps when I picked this baby out.”

  “Good to know. I was beginning to feel so… worried.” I toss him a smile, grab a pair of scissors from a kitchen drawer, and return, finding he’s opened his duffel bag and is setting the tree into a stand on the box. Once I think he’s got it tightened in and not going anywhere, I slide in and snip the twine, allowing the branches of the four-foot pine to spread out and breathe.

  Fluffing up the sprigs, I finger a few pine needles back into place, then step back to take a better look at our work. “Oh, wow. It’s a lot bigger than I thought.”

  Eli smirks. “When you let it out and caress it like that, yes, it gets pretty big.”

  I narrow my eyes and attempt to contain a grin. “If you’re not careful and keep talking like that, we’ll never make it to your mother’s house for dinner.”

  “Speaking of Mom, she asked how our trip went.”

  “And what did you say?” I ask, working a few wrinkles out of the sheet.

  “I told her about all of the shareable moments. She was excited to hear I’d offered up several suggestions to help the crew at the basketball game. And as it turns out, I actually have been on a plane.”

  I turn, meeting Eli’s gaze as he hovers above me, his expression more serious now, even with the string of multi-colored lights he has dangling from his hands. “Really, when?”

  He sidles to the side of the tree and starts placing the lights around the top, which is a good thing since I’m not tall enough to reach it myself. “Mom sort of opened up. Guess I spent a summer with my grandparents in New York. I was really young. I don’t reme
mber a thing about it.”

  “Really,” I say as more of a statement. “When was the last time you saw your grandparents?”

  I stand up, deciding now is a good time to stop fiddling with the sheet, and take the string of lights from Eli.

  We go back and forth with the lights, stringing them around the tree while he tells me he hasn’t had contact with his grandparents since that summer he doesn’t remember. My heart drops into my stomach. I’m not sure what to say. But something inside me needs to know more, especially why he hasn’t seen his grandparents for what has now likely been a couple of decades.

  We make one last pass around the bottom of the tree, and Eli takes the end of the strand and plugs it in. His shoulders drop as he stands somewhat rigid, his sight cast solemnly down at the bottom branches.

  “Makayla, my mom got pregnant her first year in college.” He lifts his head to look me in the eyes. “She doesn’t say much about that time in her life. I only have one picture of her with Zach, my dad. I’ve never met him. And I’m not sure I really ever want to.”

  An urge to know more consumes me, but I see a hint of sadness in Eli’s eyes. So I tug on his hand and lead him to sit with me on the couch. I scoot in and cross my legs so I’m facing him, then watch as he half-mirrors my pose with one leg and plants one arm on the back of the couch.

  “Has your mom stayed in touch with him?”

  He shakes his head. “No. And I get the feeling she hasn’t had anything to do with him since the time they were together.”

  “Does he know about you?” I watch as Eli leans over the side of the couch to pull his duffel bag closer and then pulls out a spool of red ribbon before settling back in.

  “I’m not sure. She doesn’t really talk about it with me. And since she doesn’t mention him, I don’t ask.” He pulls a long strand from around the spool and cuts it off. “She says they were young and he had such a bright future ahead of him.”

  “Why do I feel like there’s more to this story?”

  “Because you get me.” He releases a sigh. “And there is.”

  I scoot a little closer, acting upon a desperate need to touch him, and slide my hand up over his to palm his forearm. “Wanna talk about it?” I ask as Eli works the ribbon into a perfectly formed bow. “Wait. How’d you do that? Eli, that’s beautiful.”

  A short laugh pops from his throat. He cuts another strip, scoots me into his body so I’m sitting with my back to his front, and takes my hands in his.

  “First, you take the ribbon in your hands like this.”

  He places the ribbon in my hand but makes certain to keep his on top of mine.

  “Be careful not to twist, then loop the ends so you form two loops at the top and one at the bottom center to form a beautiful M.” He kisses the edge of my ear, leaving his lips on my skin as he whispers, “M for Makayla.”

  I toss him a sideways glance over my shoulder, certain my smile matches his. “M for Makayla?”

  He nods. I eventually return my sight to his hands and focus on how they so perfectly fit over mine. Warmth shoots up my arm from where he has his hold on me.

  “Yup. Now back to the task,” he continues.

  Trimmed whiskers from his cheek tickle mine with each word he speaks, the light touch making me that much more aware of how much I love being with him. Though his closeness can be so… distracting.

  “We’ll call the left loop Eli and the right one Makayla.”

  He moves my fingers so the Makayla loop is now over the Eli loop, forming a nice X.

  “I cross my heart and promise you everything as we push this loop through the center. Once it’s through, we pull the loops tight like this.”

  He pulls on my fingers to help me tighten the loops, the gentle tug serving as a timely reminder for me to focus more on finishing the bow and less on the wildly unreasonable amount of heat that is spreading throughout my body. He makes it so damn impossible to concentrate.

  With the bow now nice and tight, Eli taps a finger to the middle. “Right here is the knot that ties us together. It’s strong. It’s unbreakable. It’s you and me now. You okay with that?”

  Am I okay… with us? Of course I’m okay. I’m more than okay.

  I’m in love.

  I nod. He wraps his arms around me, and I make myself comfortable in his tight embrace. Soft lips tickle my ear as his words take root deep inside my heart. I don’t want to move. We’ve been talking in we and us. I certainly don’t want to dampen the mood by returning to the conversation we were having earlier. I twist in his hold, thinking only of one thing as I kiss him.

  One day I hope we talk about—forever.

  After a moment, Eli pulls back and rests his hands on my shoulders. “I love kissing you, but I have something for you. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I comply, uncertain where he thinks I might head off to. Thanks to Eli, my apartment looks and smells amazing. And with him at my side, where would I possibly go?

  He pulls a small box from his duffel bag. It’s wrapped in shiny silver paper with little green Christmas trees. Back at the couch, he sits down and hands it over, grinning from ear to ear. “For you.”

  I graciously accept, pull it to my chest, and tap a thank-you kiss to Eli’s lips. I give the box a gentle shake but despite my gaming skills, I don’t have a clue what’s hidden inside.

  Giving up on my detective work, I rip into the paper and find an ornament inside. Not just any ornament, but one with a picture of the two of us nestled within it. I recognize the photo as one of many Celia snapped at the basketball game. It looks unbelievably perfect inside the clear glass. I run my finger along the inscription that is centered in two separate lines below the photo.

  Our First Christmas

  Makayla & Eli

  My eyes grow moist as tears brim at the edge of the lids, threatening at any moment to spill down both cheeks. I look up at Eli through soggy lashes, pull him into my arms, and immediately thank him with another kiss for everything he’s done.

  “I thought the little red bows were beautiful. But this…” I lift the ornament, showing it to him. “This is really special. You’re the best. I love it. And I’ll cherish it forever. Thank you, Eli.”

  The soft pads of his thumbs glide across my cheeks, as Eli locks his gaze with mine. For a moment I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. His phone rings instead. I’ve come to learn that his best buddy, Ben, who’s a pitcher in the major leagues, is about the only other person besides his brother and me who texts him. If anyone is actually calling, it’s most likely his mom.

  It’s not that Eli doesn’t have friends. He does. But he sees sports in a different way than the rest of his buddies do. I call him the quiet observer. The guy whose thoughts run a mile a minute, often taking him to faraway places where I wish he’d take me along. Today he opened up. Hopefully that means he’ll let me in more often.

  He digs his phone out of his pocket and answers the call. I can tell right away that he’s talking to his mom, and watch as his expression moves from carefree to unsettled then back to carefree again. “Hi. Bummer. Okay. Cool. Thanks.”

  Listening to Eli’s one word replies, I notice the way he practically rubs a bald spot onto the side of his head and wonder if that’s something he tends to do when he’s agitated. After a “will do,” he drops a listless hand to his side and adds a “you too” before tapping a thumb to the screen and cutting the call.

  I lift a brow, waiting for him to tell me what his mother said.

  He sets the phone down on the table and meets my gaze. “Looks like it’s just going to be the two of us this evening. May I be so bold as to ask if you’d like company for Christmas Eve?” He waggles his brows.

  I’m thrilled he’s asking to spend the night, but I’m also confused. “We’re not going to your mom’s tonight? Why the change in plans?”

  “Mom’s work. Let’s just say rather than spending time with the family, she often chooses to busy herself at the call cen
ter.” He leaves it at that, the tone in his voice a strange mixture of relief and a hint of something resembling what I’d call disappointedly perturbed.

  I get the idea that he really doesn’t want to talk about it. Given what he’s told me about his family, I wonder if his mom works so much because she’s trying to prove something to herself, or if she might actually be trying to avoid me. I quickly dismiss the latter, noting she has nothing to hide from me. Plus, since this is the second time he’s mentioned his mom working a lot, it sounds like this has been an ongoing thing with her. While purposely skipping out on a family event like Christmas is hard for me to fathom, it’s obviously a sore subject for Eli. Because of that I don’t ask any additional questions. Instead, I squeeze the ornament in my hands and try not to let the flash of sadness he had on his face completely break my heart.

  “Let’s finish decorating our tree,” he suggests, his eyes now as big and bright as his smile. “When we’re done, I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

  A dinner out sounds lovely, but now that we’re not obligated to go out in the snow to celebrate Christmas Eve with his mom, what I really want is to simply stay in and hang with Eli. Since I don’t get the impression we’ll be visiting his mom on Christmas Day either, I offer up an alternative to his suggestion.

  “I bought a bottle of wine to take to your mom’s. It’ll go really well with a tray of lasagna I have in the freezer. How about we finish our tree, enjoy an evening in, and tomorrow we can slow cook a roast that’s to die for. What do you think?” I cock my head and raise my brows, waiting patiently for his response.

  “Do I get to make the salad?”

  “Sure,” I say a couple octaves too high. “I’d like that.”

  “And do you have cheesy bread to go along with the lasagna?”

  I lift a finger and widen my eyes. “Better. I have a special recipe for the most amazing breadsticks on the planet.”

  He crosses his arms and pouts. “Deal breaker. It’s gotta be cheesy bread.”

  Seriously? He wants cheesy bread over warm and fluffy breadsticks? No-can-do over bread options? Pffft. I grapple with a reply.

 

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