by Leo, Cassia
“Her laugh?”
“Her music.”
Grandma Flo always put on music while she was cooking. Her favorite was Frank Sinatra, but she had a not-so-secret love for all things Katy Perry. One of the last songs she asked Molly to download onto her iPhone was “Unconditionally.” I caught Grandma with her headphones on a couple of times, singing along to Katy as she scrolled through her newsfeed on Facebook. I think one of my biggest regrets will be that she never got to see me perform any of the songs on the new album.
Molly and I spend a little while longer, reminiscing about all the things we’ll miss the most, then we head back inside. We haven’t started packing yet. We still have ten days before Chris and I exchange homes. I’m not taking much with me, anyway. This house is huge and his condo barely has 1,700 square feet of living space. I’m only taking our beds, my instruments and equipment, and some personal items.
Molly heads straight for the slate fireplace in the living room to warm her hands as I head for the kitchen. It’s difficult not to reach for a beer or a bottle of vodka at a time like this, but I’m taking it one day at a time. I’m trying to be better, for Senia and Molly, and for the baby I never got to know.
From where she sits on a stool at the breakfast bar, Claire watches me as I enter the kitchen. Suddenly, she slides off the stool and throws her arms around me. I look to Chris and he shrugs as she continues to hold on. Finally, I lift my arms slowly and return the hug. A moment later, she lets go and wipes tears from her face as she walks out of the kitchen. Chris walks after her and I immediately look around for Senia. I find her sitting at the dining table with Rachel, both of them dabbing at their pink, puffy eyes.
I don’t have to say a word. She stands from the table and follows me upstairs to the bedroom to lie down.
“She’s just thinking of her mom,” Senia says as she lays her head on my shoulder, and I know she’s referring to Claire.
“I know. I just wasn’t expecting that.”
If there’s anyone who knows how unfair it is that we can’t choose our parents, it’s Claire. I used to envy her. Her mom was a heroin addict like Elaine, but she didn’t have to grow up with her mother the way I did. After her mother died, it took Claire a long time to find her way to Jackie’s house. I had Grandma all these years, but I was still constantly faced with the reminder of the childhood I lost every time Elaine showed up at Grandma’s and shit all over my day. Now, I realize that neither Claire nor I had it any easier. I got twenty-one years with Grandma and she only got seven years with her mom. Life isn’t fair, to anyone.
But God damn if it doesn’t always give us exactly what and who we need, exactly when we need them.
Chapter Forty
Senia walks through the front door of our new condo wearing a black knee-length trench coat and black boots that cover her knees. She shakes off her umbrella outside before she stuffs it in the umbrella stand just inside the door. When she looks up, her face is glowing with mischief.
“That lady stumbled all over herself apologizing.” She’s talking about Carissa’s mom who unfairly judged Molly that time Carissa got her drunk. “I shared some phony memories of Grandma Flo with her – how she taught me to read and bake a pie, stuff like that. I hope that woman wallows in her guilt for at least a couple of days.”
I set down the bowl of cereal I just fixed for myself and try to figure out why she’s so damn happy about this. Then it dawns on me.
The doctor told Senia and me that we had to wait two weeks after Senia lost the baby before we could have sex again. It’s been an excruciating two weeks. The first night, we tried very hard not to touch each other, but that didn’t last. We ended up making out and feeling each other up for a about five minutes before I finally told her I couldn’t take it any more. We’ve spent the last two weeks making out like teenagers for hours in our bed and, well, the oral sex has been great, but it’s not the same as being inside her. Nothing is as good as being inside her.
“It’s been two weeks,” she declares as she walks toward me. “Molly is away for the weekend. The wait is over.”
I clasp my hand around the back of her neck and pull her toward me. Her lips are soft and cool from being outside. I kiss her hungrily and she gives me a soft mmm sound, which gets me even hotter.
“You ready to try out that steam room?”
“This condo doesn’t have a steam room. Besides, I’d rather steam up this room.”
She grabs the front of my shirt and drags me out of the kitchen, around the breakfast bar, and toward the dining table. She pulls out a dining chair and makes me sit on it backwards, so my chest is facing the back of the chair. Then she strips her coat off, slowly undoing each button, and I’m not surprised to see that she’s stark naked underneath except for a pair of black knee-high tights. She slips her boots off and I feel the excitement and longing growing with my erection. I hastily pull my wallet out of my back pocket and toss it aside once I have a condom in hand. She smiles as I undo my jeans and slide it on, then she climbs onto my lap.
I groan as she lowers herself onto me. “Fuck, yes.”
Cradling her face in my hands, I kiss her slowly and try to focus on her mouth instead of the pleasure of being wrapped inside her. I don’t want to come too quickly. Thankfully, she moves slowly up and down the length of my cock, completely stopping when she feels I’m getting close.
I slide my hand between us to reach her clit and she throws her head back. I suck on the column of her throat, savoring the vibration of her moans as they tickle my lips. If it weren’t for this condom, I would have exploded by now. Even so, I wrap my arm tightly around her waist and hold her still so I can just caress her for a bit.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper against her skin and she whimpers as she gets closer to orgasm. I remove my hand from between her legs and lift her off my lap. “Get up. I don’t want to come yet.”
She stands and I sit there admiring her body for a moment. Her round breasts and curvy hips look practically edible. And the fucking knee-highs!
“Put one foot on the chair.”
She smiles as she lifts her leg and points her toe as she sets it down on the seat of the chair. I kneel before her and slide my fingers inside her to unearth her wetness. She places one hand on the back of the chair while her other hand clutches my hair for support. I massage her a little until I think she’s close to climax, then I part her flesh and take her clit into my mouth.
“Oh God,” she breathes, her body trembling as I lovingly massage and suck her clit as if it were my only source of lifeblood. For me, it is.
Her legs begin to weaken as she comes and I keep one arm wrapped firmly around her thigh and the other around her waist to hold her steady. She screams my name so loudly, I nearly come at the sound of it. I quickly stand up, completely unable to hold back this urge any longer. I lift her off the ground and she deftly wraps her legs around my hips. I pin her against the wall and let out a rapturous moan as I sink into her.
“I love you,” I whisper in her ear, burying my face in her neck. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you more.”
I don’t say I love you most because I don’t argue with Senia. There’s no sense in arguing with her. She always wins. But as I come harder than I’ve ever come, I can’t help but feel like I’m the one who won today.
Our bodies are sticky with sweat as I carry her to the bedroom. I lay a few soft kisses on her shoulder as I walk and she clutches a fistful of my hair as she attempts to catch her breath. When I lay her down on the bed, I laugh as she yanks me down on top of her and wraps her arms and legs tightly around me.
“Don’t leave.”
I kiss her temple and nuzzle my nose against her ear. “I won’t.”
One. Two. Three.
I was 12 years old and it was just
3 weeks.
One. Two. Three.
Grandma. Molly. Me.
One. Two. Three.
Senia. Me. The baby.
One. Two. Three.
Grandma Flo’s radiant face materializes at my side. It’s my ninth birthday and the smell of cake is sweet in the air. She leans in and whispers in my ear, “Count to three and make a wish.”
Looking down at Senia where she’s fallen asleep next to me, hugging my arm like a teddy bear, my only wish is that the ones I love never feel the need to abandon hope.
Epilogue
4.5 years later
Late August in Cary is a sight to behold. Emerald-green grass and trees as far as the eye can see. This is one of the things I missed after leaving my house in Cary. But Senia and I enjoyed the life we created in Chapel Hill: going out for the occasional beer with the rest of the gang when they weren’t busy having kids or traveling. When they weren’t around, Senia and I got very good at pretending to know what the heck we were doing with Molly. Maybe we did know what we were doing because she’s still living with us – in our new house in North Raleigh – even though she started classes at UNC last week.
But it’s no surprise that she didn’t feel like coming to a birthday party for a four-year-old. She has to draw the line somewhere. As I pull our car into Chris and Claire’s curved driveway, I can’t help but feel a bit nostalgic for the brief time Molly spent here with Senia and me. The three of us have made a pretty great team and sometimes it’s hard to remember that she’s not my daughter – especially since I never heard from Elaine again after Grandma’s funeral. I wish I could say I worry about Elaine, but I don’t.
The crying begins just as I kill the engine. “She’s calling your name,” I say to Senia as I open the car door.
“She’s two months old,” she replies as she slides out of the passenger seat and immediately opens the door to the backseat. “If she’s able to call either of our names, it has to be yours, Da-Da.”
“Very funny.”
Senia caught me trying to teach Sia – short for Florencia – how to say Da-Da the other day. I’m not stupid. I know she can’t speak yet, but there’s no harm in hammering it into her head. Da-Da will be the first word she says.
She takes Sia out of the car seat and I grab the baby bag from the trunk. I can’t help but reach for her feather-soft cheeks as we walk toward Chris and Claire’s front door. I wish I could touch those cheeks all day long.
Senia doesn’t bother knocking or ringing the doorbell; she just walks right in. Old habits die hard and Chris and Claire are family so it makes no sense to knock here. Besides, I work here and they’re all probably out in the backyard celebrating Jimi’s fourth birthday already. We’re a little late to the party today because Senia wouldn’t leave until Molly understood the concept of standard deviation. I’m glad someone in this family understands statistics.
I don’t know much about anything other than music, which is why, when I decided to quit touring, I expanded the small music studio I originally installed in this house — with Chris and Claire’s permission. We now record all our albums here in Cary, but when it’s time to tour, Chris and Jake take Will Rawlings in my place. I know Grandma would be proud to know that I never abandoned my family when they needed me.
Jake spots us first as we walk through the back doors out onto the patio. It’s a small party for a few family and friends, so I should have no problems executing my plans for later today. I just need to make sure Chris and Claire do their part.
“Hey, man,” Jake says, giving me a one-armed bro-hug.
Rachel kisses both Senia and I on the cheek, then she gazes longingly at Sia. “Can I hold her?”
“Of course,” Senia replies as she hands over my precious girl.
Rachel wanted to wait until the touring slowed down before she and Jake had kids. They were all set to start trying for a baby next year, until Rachel developed PCOS – polycystic ovarian syndrome. Now, she’s not sure she wants to take the risk of having a miscarriage. I’ve tried to get Senia to talk to her about it, but Senia still has a little bit of a problem talking about the baby we lost. There’s something that happens when you lose a child, no matter what stage of their development. The experience definitely made us appreciate what Chris and Claire struggle with every day. I just hope that one day, the hole in Senia’s heart will close a little bit more. And I hope that Rachel and Jake will get the chance to feel what I feel every day with my Sia. Like a part of my soul that died a long time ago was reanimated, given a second chance.
Rachel and Senia wander off to deal with the kids and to show Sia off to all the other parents. Jake turns to me with a serious expression. “I got what you asked me to get,” he mutters out the side of his mouth. “It’s in the freezer.”
“Thanks, man.”
We set off to find Chris. I need to make sure he and Claire came through with their roles in today’s surprise. On the way to the kids’ play area, I’m stopped by Joel, Jackie’s new husband. He could be Jake’s dad with that lumberjack beard.
He claps me on the arm. “Where’s your wife and baby? We got something for the baby.”
“She’s not my wife, but she’s right over there,” I say, nodding toward the patio area where Claire, Rachel, and Senia are fawning over Sia.
“Well, you should get on that. Girls like her don’t come along but once in a blue moon.”
I sigh at this advice. Joel is a great guy, but he’s become quite comfortable with telling me I need to hurry up and get married. He doesn’t know that Senia is the one who has refused to marry me. I’ve asked her to marry me twice and both times she shot me down. The first time she told me she wanted to finish school before she started worrying about planning a wedding. I asked her again the day she graduated from UNC – I’m nothing if not completely compulsive and eager when it comes to Senia. She still turned me down. She didn’t want me to just ask her because “It was time.” She wanted me to ask her when the time was right. She said I’d know when that time came. And she was right – as she always is.
It seemed logical that I should ask her as soon as we found out she was pregnant last year, but I didn’t. I knew she wouldn’t want to look back on her wedding pictures and remember that she was two months’ or six months’ pregnant. I knew she would want to wait. So I’ve waited patiently for the past ten months, biding my time and making my plans. I don’t know what she’s going to say, but I hope to God that I’ve planned it right this time.
After the birthday cake is cut, I walk inside the house to begin putting the plan in motion. If everything is going as planned out there, Claire should be offering to take Sia while Senia goes to look for me. I can just imagine Senia’s face when Claire tells her that we’re going to play hide-and-seek.
I open the freezer and retrieve the surprise that Jake brought for us, then I reach into my pocket and retrieve the ring that Chris just handed to me behind the bouncer. Now, I just have to get to my hiding place before Senia gets there.
Once I’m settled into the darkness of my hiding spot, I close my eyes, trying to keep calm, as I wait for her. She’s going to say yes. She has to.
She’d better say yes or I’m going to ravage her tonight. She’d like that.
The door handle turns and the sound of Senia’s laughter is like music to my ears. A crack of light appears, just enough for me to see my surroundings and I quickly rise from the bench and turn on the light switch. Senia opens the door all the way and shakes her head when she sees me standing in the steam room, holding a bowl of frozen yogurt, with a ring sitting on top like a three-carat cherry on the life we’ve built.
She presses her lips together as I take her hand and pull her into the steam room. “Yes,” she says with a nod. “Just … yes.”
I scoop the ring out of the yogurt and she smiles a
s I lick it clean then I slide it onto her finger. I plant a soft kiss on the back of her hand, then I kiss her madly.
“If you didn’t say yes this time,” I whisper in her ear, “I was going to break out the whips tonight.”
“In that case, no.”
I kiss her again and a million thoughts race through my mind, but the one that stands out amongst them all is this: You can’t let your past define your future. Once you get that figured out, you begin to understand the joy of living in the present. And the present is full of tiny gifts that we can only see when we stop looking behind and ahead of us. Sometimes, these gifts land right at our feet. Sometimes, it’s our feet that carry us toward them, running at full-speed until our hearts nearly give out. Either way, never stop noticing them, and never stop wishing.
Turn the page for a preview of Cassia Leo’s next book
BLACK BOX
Chapter One
January 8th
Mikki
The moment you realize you’re going to die is nothing like I imagined it would be. I imagined a deep internal struggle coupled with a visceral physical response—fight or flight. But there’s no fighting this. I’m going to die.
It’s possible that everyone on this plane is going to die. I wonder if they feel this overwhelming sense of peace, or if the squeal of the plane engine has drowned out all their thoughts.
He grabs the oxygen mask as it drops from the compartment and he’s yelling something as he puts the elastic band over my head. He pulls his own mask over his head then he grabs my hand and looks me in the eye. There’s no panic in his eyes. Maybe he feels this same calm I’m feeling. Or maybe he just wants me to know that he loves me.