by Alicia Rae
Since I’d been unsure if my cooking skills could create something edible for my girls’ night this evening with Pearl, I’d decided to pick up dinner on my way home from my last meeting today. I’d settled on a cheese pizza and breadsticks. Then, I had gone to a local bakery and bought cupcakes.
Knowing Pearl would be arriving any minute now, I arranged our dinner on my kitchen table, using paper plates for easy clean up. I also pulled out two clear plastic cups for our sparkling grape juice. When the doorbell finally rang, I had to remind myself not to jump up and down and squeal like a little girl. I was so excited that tonight was finally here. I happily skipped over to the front door and yanked it open.
Pearl’s eyes reflected my zest as she bounced lightly on her feet. “Yay! Tonight is finally here! I was so excited all day that I could barely complete my art drawing.” She beamed those emerald eyes up at me, and then she barreled forward to hug me fervently.
I embraced her back with equal exhilaration. “I know how you feel! It seemed like the clock was moving extremely slow today!” I responded.
“Yes, it did!” she replied, reaching back to slip her worn backpack off her shoulders. She unzipped it, grabbed a rolled-up poster board, and began sliding the rubber band down from the center. “Look what I have!” she shrieked, opening it and thrusting it toward me. “I made this for you today in Mrs. Shepard’s art class,” she added, her voice suddenly shy.
The white poster board had a drawing of a purple wall with squares of paintings and a white couch. It was one that I recognized as my own. A woman with brown hair and blue eyes had a pillow above her head while she balanced on her knees, ready to attack. A much smaller girl with green eyes beaming brightly was also in the same position. Both were smiling a larger-than-life smile. A man with ruffled dirty-blond hair looked to be laughing profusely as both of his hands were spread wide while holding a plum-colored blanket out slightly in front of him, ready to counter the blows of our pillows.
“Oh, Pearl,” I choked off, reining in my emotions while blinking back tears. “It’s beautiful.” I was at a loss for more words.
Pearl smiled. “Mrs. Shepard let us use, um…” She stalled, raising one hand and tapping it along her cheek. “Um…those oil things. They aren’t crayons, but they look like them, and they’re kinda slimy,” she added to her description.
“Oil crayons?” I asked.
“Yep! That’s it! Our teacher let us use them today!” she exclaimed, lowering her gaze back to the picture. “This is your big white couch. See?” She pointed. “And this is me and you with your big fluffy pillows in our hands.” She moved her hand over to a large figure and a blanket. “And that is Jason trying to shield himself with the blanket.” She giggled.
I could no longer see the picture. Tears had spilled over my eyes and onto my cheeks. The coolness of the liquid contrasted the warmth I felt in my heart. I hastily blinked the tears back and saw Pearl looking up at me with a heartfelt and thoughtful expression on her face.
“That was the best day ever,” she whispered softly.
I smiled affectionately at her as my chest constricted painfully while remembering the sounds of our laughter filling the room on that particular Sunday—Jason begging me to save him, me teaming up with Pearl, us bombarding Jason with our pillow attacks, and Pearl’s sweet giggling that had made me giggle, too.
I had no words to describe how much I treasured that day. I dropped to my knees, looking her in the eyes. Gathering my arms around her slender frame, I drew her into me, embracing her with all the love I felt inside. This second hug was so different from the last.
“For me, too, Pearl,” I breathed. “Me, too.”
After pizza and breadsticks, we went straight to our first hair-braiding lesson.
“So, you take the hair in your left fingers and put it over your right,” I said, teaching Pearl a simple braid first. I crisscrossed my hands as I held Pearl’s soft blonde hair in between my fingers. “Next, you pull your ring finger out, turning your hand, while you push your thumb down. Then, next time, you do the same thing with your opposite fingers,” I added, hoping I was explaining how to braid hair the right way.
It was much harder to teach someone than to just do it from memory.
She was sitting on my bathroom counter with two side mirrors opened, so she could see her back. She tilted her head to the left and then nodded. “Okay, left and then right. I think I got it! My turn!”
“All right, all right.” I laughed. I finished braiding all the way down the length of her long blonde hair and then tied a small purple rubber band at the end.
Pearl and I switched positions. She scooted the kitchen stool that I had brought into the bathroom earlier across the tiled floor until it was directly behind me. She climbed up onto it, grabbed the brush off the counter, and started brushing my hair.
After finishing, she set the hairbrush down, and I lifted my hands.
“So, first, you divide my hair into three chunks,” I instructed, helping her. My strands filled her tiny hands. “Next, take your right hand and loop in between the other two strands.”
Carefully concentrating, she did as I’d said.
“Then, use your ring finger to pull it back and outward. Finally, take the far left side, and put it in the middle of the other two. Then, you just keep going,” I added.
“Okay.” She complied and quickly caught on to the pattern. After five more loops, she squealed, “I think I’m getting the hang of it!”
I glanced over in the left mirror panel. I could see the curve of each loop. “You’re doing great!” I shook my head in awe. “And you are such a fast learner!”
“Thank you.” She beamed brightly over at my reflection.
She reached the end of my hair, and I handed her a hair band. She tied it near the bottom.
Her small body was fidgeting with excitement. “I did it!” she exclaimed proudly.
I spun around to face her. “Yes, you did!”
She threw herself into my arms, hugging me. “Thank you, Abbey! Now, I can braid my friends’ hair!”
I smiled tenderly while returning her affection. Braiding hair was such an easy task to an adult. But to teach Pearl a new skill and to be a part of her learning experience as a child had felt especially rewarding.
She abruptly stepped back, both brows rising. “Now, can we have cupcakes?” she asked.
“Of course!” I replied. “Sugar coma, here we come!” I added jokingly, hopping off the counter.
She tilted her head up at me while striding toward the kitchen. “What’s a sugar coma?” she questioned thoughtfully.
I chortled. “It’s when you eat way too much sugar, and your tummy hurts. Then, you regret eating so much.” I shrugged, reaching the counter where the cupcakes were sitting with heaps of pink frosting on top.
Pearl hopped up onto the center kitchen stool in front of the counter. “Mmm…those sure do look yummy.” Then, she shook her head. “But I don’t want a tummy ache.”
“Me either,” I agreed. I picked up a cupcake for Pearl and set it on a paper plate before sliding it over to her. “So, maybe we should each only have two.”
She smiled broadly. “I think two is a good number.”
We each pulled back the wrapper and dug in to our cupcakes.
“Mmm…” she said, chewing a mouthful. “These are delicious!”
I nodded. “Yes, they are. It’s going to be hard to only have two.” I chortled.
After our dessert, Pearl and I painted each other’s nails. She found a hot pink polish under my bathroom sink. Knowing it was her favorite color, I quickly agreed. It was surprisingly hard to paint a seven-year-old’s fingernails. They were so tiny, but I went slowly. She also did a pretty good job on mine, too. There were only just a few spots here and there on my skin. I made a mental note to scrub off those few areas later before the rest of my meetings this week.
Afterward, I helped Pearl with her homework. Tonight, she only had reading a
nd spelling words. Thank goodness math was not on the agenda, or I would have been in big trouble without Jason’s superb skills.
I walked Pearl home by seven, wanting her to have plenty of time to settle in for the night. I was shocked when Diane opened the door. Her eyes were smudged with eyeliner as if she had just woken up, and her expression looked to be anything but friendly. Her fair skin contrasted her jet-black hair. She was much taller than me, but she was far too lean for her height. The radio in the background was loud enough to hear, and curse words were coming out it every other word.
Pearl hugged me and said good-bye before she ran inside. I glanced back at Diane. She outstretched one hand and placed it on the doorframe, regarding me.
“Hi, Diane.” I smiled kindly at her. “I’m sorry if I brought her home too late. We started painting our nails, and it took longer than I’d expected.”
She shook her head. “It’s not too late.”
“Oh, okay,” I said quietly. “I wanted to ask you if I could take Pearl to a family dinner on Sunday. My parents have a pool, so she can go swimming while spending the day with us.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Diane shrugged nonchalantly. “I have plans, so she would just be here by herself anyway. As I said before”—she sighed dramatically—“as long as she’s home by eight or nine in the evening so that she can get to bed and not be grouchy the next morning for school, I don’t mind her being out with you.”
I stifled a frown at the tone of her voice. It was just so…detached. I disagreed with her parenting beliefs concerning a seven-year-old and allowing her to be out so late at night. The thought made my blood boil. I feared voicing my concerns would upset Diane—or worse, she might not let me see Pearl anymore. Instead of making a fuss, I offered another kind smile, not wanting to overstep my boundaries.
“Thank you. I’ll come and get her around ten or so on Sunday.”
Diane nodded, stood to her full height, and grasped the door as if preparing to close it. “Is that all?” she grumbled.
I didn’t miss her underlying meaning. It appeared my presence was no longer welcome. “Yes. I’m very sorry to intrude,” I said, taking a backward step. “Thanks again.”
Without another reply, Diane shut the door with more force than necessary. I slightly jerked my head back and pinched my brows together while spinning around to walk back toward my condo, shaking my head with every step. There was just something odd about that woman, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. She had a way of making my stomach churn, and I hated that feeling.
On Saturday morning, I awoke early and turned on my side, snuggling into the warm body next to me. Excitement coursed through me, realizing that today was here at last, and I’d be going on my first Harley ride ever—and with Jason nonetheless. We intended to take an eighty-mile round-trip to sightsee around Lake Tahoe.
I placed my hand under my cheek, supporting my weight on my elbow, as I peeked over at him. He was positioned on his left side, facing me. His breathing was slow and steady, and I knew he was sound asleep. I drank in the sight of his scruffy morning stubble, wild dirty-blond curls, and his muscular chest that was exposed above the covers. Unable to restrain myself, I extended my hand to gently brush the soft curls off his forehead. His eyes were still closed, and it made me wish he would open them, so I could see his gorgeous sky-blue eyes that always captivated me.
But after our late night, I wanted him to be well rested for our upcoming ride. Pearl had stayed with us the previous evening until nearly seven, and then I had wanted to see the Chronicles of Riddick, featuring Vin Diesel, on Netflix. Jason had not seen the first two movies in the series, so by the time we’d watched those and then the new release, we hadn’t gotten to bed until almost two in the morning.
I planned to let him sleep in while I showered, made us breakfast, and packed us a lunch for our road trip. It was the least I could do since he would be the one driving all day. But nestling into his side felt heavenly. Wanting just a few more minutes with him, I trailed my fingertips down his sideburns and across the light stubble on his cheeks. I loved the feeling of his skin beneath my hands. I leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his temple, and I drew back, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from him.
I rose from the bed, grabbed my iPhone off my nightstand, and tiptoed my way into the bathroom for my shower. I quietly shut the door behind me. Sliding my finger across the screen, I opened my music app and pressed Shuffle. Katy Perry’s “Roar” started to play as I set my cell on the counter. I strode over to the shower and opened the stall to turn on the water while quietly singing along with the words.
After undressing, I stepped into the shower and shut the door, feeling the warmth of the water instantly heat my skin. Steam was already beginning to fog the glass door as I hurriedly washed my hair with shampoo. I smiled as “Stay” by Rihanna came on. My voice gradually increased as I felt myself waking up a little more by the minute. Music just had a way of doing that to me. It was an uncontrollable habit. I rinsed the soapsuds from my hair, applied my conditioner, and a three-minute deep-cleanser facial mask before shaving my legs. Then, I began washing my entire body with a bar of Dove soap. By now, my whole body was swaying to the beat of the music as I bellowed out the chorus.
My voice cut off as I was almost positive I heard a faint throaty chuckle coming from inside the bathroom. The slippery soap fell from my hands, clattering loudly on the floor. My pulse leaped to new heights. In slow motion, I slid the shower stall door open, peeking my head out. Jason was leaning back against the sink. His legs were crossed, and his left hand was attempting to hide the amused smile stretching across his gorgeous face. He was failing miserably.
“Good morning,” Jason said, dropping his hand so that I could see the full width of his wicked grin.
The only clothing he had on was a pair of fitted gray briefs, accentuating the muscle definition in his thighs, abs, and—well, everywhere. Here he was, looking all sexy and composed, and he’d just caught me singing in the shower.
“Morning,” I croaked through my embarrassment, feeling my cheeks heat.
No one had heard me sing like that—ever.
He stood to his full height and sauntered over to me. “I was going to join you, but you distracted me with that voice of yours,” he said, stopping in front of me.
He revealed his genuine smile that could make those inner butterflies of mine stretch their wings.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” I responded sincerely. “I originally had good intentions of letting you sleep in.”
He slightly shook his head. “You didn’t wake me. I’m not one to sleep in.” He paused, searching my face. “I’ve never heard you sing before.”
“That’s because I prefer to sing in private.” I smiled coyly.
His brow rose. “Not very private when you’re hollering out the words so loudly that even your neighbors can hear,” he teased.
I bit the corner of my lip sheepishly. “Sometimes, I can get carried away,” I admitted, recollecting the last few notes in the chorus and how loud I’d sung them.
As if sensing my awkwardness, Jason stripped his briefs off and entered the shower. I backed up to make space for him, and he took another step forward. His right hand came to my hip while he rose the opposing one to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“You have an amazing voice, Abbey. You shouldn’t be embarrassed to let people hear it,” he said, penetrating me with his gaze. His eyes started to roam over the planes of my face. “I would kiss you right now, but I’m not sure about that blue stuff on your skin,” he said, maneuvering his finger over my cheek and gently poking it. “Does it hurt?”
My eyes widened as realization dawned. I still had my face mask on.
“Oh my God!” I gasped, shoving him backward with my mortification.
His eyes glowed with amusement. I hastily spun around, closed my eyes, and stuck my face under the showerhead. I scrubbed my palms up and down my face like a mad woman. My w
hole face would have been hot pink if that cream had stayed on too long. Once finished, I rotated to see Jason reach over and pick up the clean washcloth I had set on the soap dish earlier. He wet it before ringing it out.
“Here, you missed some spots,” he said in a soft tone. Tipping my chin up, he gently began rubbing away the blue remnants.
His touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through me, causing every nerve in my body to take notice. My eyes gradually traveled across his now wet body. I placed my hands on either side of his jaw and pulled his head down before kissing him passionately. The purity of his desire sent my own into overdrive. Preparing for our trip would have to be delayed a while longer.
I stopped dead in my tracks at the threshold of my bedroom, staring at the two packages placed on the edge of my bed.
Jason stopped behind me and gathered me in his arms. He buried his face in my neck, placing languid kisses along my damp skin. “They’re presents,” he breathed in between kisses.
“Presents?” I whispered delightedly, feeling my heart seize with his thoughtfulness.
He nodded against me. “Yes, for you,” he responded, bumping me forward while still holding me. “You have to open them before we can leave, too.”
“Thank you.” I turned my head to kiss his cheek. “You didn’t have to get me anything for our trip.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” He smiled kindly at me. “Go ahead, and open that one first,” he said, pointing to the smaller box.
“Okay,” I replied, eyes beaming. After reaching the bed, I pulled the wrapping paper off the first package, revealing a box with Harley-Davidson written across it. I lifted the lid and removed the white tissue paper.