by Bree Dahlia
“Squirrels. They’re storing nuts.”
“Squirrels?” I must be drifting in la-la land, the home of bizarre foreplay. His touch would feel much better if he didn’t speak.
“I checked out those noises you’ve been hearing. Squirrels are getting in from that huge oak on the side of the house. The rolling sound is them dropping acorns inside the walls.”
“Oh.” That can’t be good. “But….”
“I’ll take care of it.” He lifts me until I’m swallowed in his embrace. I’ve missed this. “I hope this doesn’t feel like empty words to you after yesterday, but I’m so sorry, baby. I truly am. I haven’t been acting like myself at all.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Whatever’s going on with me, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” An acidic sensation takes up residence in my throat when I remember calling Jake. It reacts with his kisses, growing more caustic. It was an unintentional, juvenile mistake, I remind myself. I stroke his face. “What is going on with you?”
“I don’t know.” He sighs, covering my hand with his. “I guess it’s the long hours at my job and then all the work that needs to get done around here. It’s never-ending.” He cradles me in his arms, then picks me up off the bed. “But let’s not worry about that now. We’re spending the day together.”
“We are?”
“We are. Away from the house so we’re not thinking about it. Let’s go to the city. Remember what happens on Saturday mornings this time of year?”
He’s carrying me out of the room when my smile busts loose. “The farmers’ market!”
“Yep, we’ll start there.”
I almost feel childish again for wanting to bounce against his chest and clap. I love the Madison Farmers’ Market, and it’s been forever since I’ve gone. It’s enough to make me shove aside the “off” feeling that’s been popping in with more frequency lately. We just moved in. Shouldn’t we be excited to spend our weekends at the house? It’s supposed to be fun, fixing it up, spending the time together investing in our future.
But right now, time in the city sounds much better. Heavenly. And just what we need.
His mouth heats my skin, burning me in an entirely different way. All my thoughts are with my husband when he brings me into the shower. We make love as the water rushes over us, deceptively soft and sweet by the strength of my orgasm. The evidence of his washes away, but he’s marked me inside. My heart is free and light from the beautiful start to our day.
An hour later we’re strolling around The Square, sipping coffee and eating chocolate croissants. I can’t take it all in fast enough. I’ve missed the vibe as it fills with more and more shoppers, the culinary circus that surrounds me. I’m the furthest thing from a chef, but I love food all the same.
I stop and grab a sample of dill cheese, watching the man in the white coat at the tent over purchasing bushels of greens. I wonder what local restaurant he’s with and what’s on the menu. I pop another cube into my mouth, this time habanero.
“What about starting a little herb garden?” I drag Cain over to the potted plants and hold up a plastic container with a shoot of mint poking through. “We can make mojitos this summer.”
“You realize we have five acres. We’re working with much more than a windowsill now.”
I nudge him with my shoulder. “Yes, but I can only keep so much alive, remember?”
“That’s not the kind of thing you say to your future children’s father.”
I nudge him harder and he laughs. I set down the pot and we continue on. I’d love to stock up today, but I’m not sure when we’ll be home. Besides, it’s early in the season, and I’m determined to make the short trip back at least twice a month.
The farther we get to the other side of The Square, the windier it becomes. A red balloon blows past us, and Cain snatches it in time, saving a crying little girl more heartache. My smile rivals hers when he hands it back.
“What’s the huge grin for?”
“I’m happy, that’s all. Ever been to Annie’s?”
“The ice cream place?” I nod. “Nope.”
“Our kids are going to love it.” I know I did. What’s not to love? It’s wacky, there’s an indoor carousel, and the ice cream sundaes could come with a warning label. I want to go there now. “You know what else I’m excited for?”
He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “What’s that?”
“The pumpkins.” I recall this area decorated with orange globes come late September. Smooth, knobby, dented. Some years I’d be in shorts and flip-flops, and others I’d be in a hat and scarf, darting around and searching for that perfect shape to accompany whatever design I created that year. I want to pass on the magic.
“Yeah, can’t have too many of those.” I forgot I was talking to a seed addict. “Head down State?”
“Sounds good,” I say. I could go for some window shopping. If school were in session, downtown’s main artery would be clogged with college students still drunk from the night before, but right now it’s manageable.
We walk hand in hand down the wide sidewalk until Cain decides he could go for a brat. We stop at the outdoor pavilion, and I plop down on the bench, cozying up with the “speak no evil” monkey statue cemented to the seat.
“Sure you don’t want anything?”
I shake my head. I’m all sampled out, but I can always pick up something from one of the food carts later.
Cain pauses before going in. “You know, if you just turned around the other way and put your legs… ah, never mind.” He nods toward a young boy with a Brewers hat and the longest natural eyelashes I’ve ever seen looking up at us.
I hop off and motion toward the bench, figuring he’d like some time with the monkeys. “Go ahead.” He beams, his mother thanking me while helping him up.
I sidle next to Cain. “What were you going to say?”
“An inappropriate position. It just reminded me of Freakfest, the last time I was here.”
“You never told me you went to Freakfest.” I always wanted to go to the giant party, but my mom never let me. It always seemed so unfair considering how much I love Halloween. “Did you dress up?”
“Of course. I was a priest.”
“I bet you made a hot priest.” I’m the one who grew up in the city, but Cain hung out here more as an adult. Even though I’m three years younger, I’ve always been curious if there was ever a time we’d crossed paths and didn’t even realize it.
“You’d have to ask my girlfriend at the time. She went as a pregnant nun. Not very original. We probably ran into a dozen others that night with the same idea.”
“Oh.” A tiny prick jabs me inside. How stupid to feel a twinge over a woman he was with before me.
He holds my chin and gives me a kiss. “I may have had other girlfriends, but I’ve never had another wife.”
I smile. “I know.” My reactions really confuse me sometimes. We both had lives before we met. He’s been with other women, and I’ve been with… Jake.
He gets his food and I wait for him, staring down the tree-lined street to the Capitol building. I yank my head in the opposite direction toward Library Mall, State Street’s other bookend. It’s not farfetched to think Jake could be on the isthmus right now, doing the same thing we are. At any moment, he could bike past us, or he could be sitting in one of these boxed-in sidewalk diners eating something healthy and green.
I suddenly have a craving for grease and fat and sugar as a way to bury the taste in my mouth. Jake once asked me to close my eyes and open my mouth, and that’s when I realized tofu is definitely an acquired taste.
“Hey.” Cain snakes his arm around my waist. “What are you thinking about?”
“Something deep-fried.”
He laughs. “Then let’s go.”
It’d be a good time to tell him about my ex being back and that I spoke to him. Things are light and easy between us today, so yeah… the
perfect time.
But that’s exactly why I don’t. Why potentially ruin the best day we’ve had since we moved?
We continue down to the end of the pedestrian mall, and I’m thrilled to see one of my favorite vendors is still around. I buy a large bag of beer-battered cheese curds, deciding to lay off the sugar for now.
Cain checks his phone. “Now what? There’s still time to catch a free show at the Overture.”
“Mmm. Maybe next time. It’s so nice out. Let’s stay outside.”
As we head the six blocks back toward The Square, every biker we dodge has me doing a double take. It’s bothersome enough that I don’t pay attention to my surroundings. Cain has to tug me closer to him several times to avoid a tire track across my back.
“Can’t let anything happen to you,” he says, kissing the top of my head before stealing a few cheese curds from my bag.
I smile big. It’s these little things that feel so right. Even something as simple as the treats we allow ourselves gives us more in common. Cain and I are both health conscious, but we don’t go overboard. Not like the extremes I remember Jake going to.
I stop worrying about what could happen. It’s out of my control. The only thing I should be concerned about today is having more quality time with my husband. The bronze lady on top of the Capitol pointing “Forward” agrees. No going back. The past is the past for a reason.
“We missed the tulips,” I say as we get closer. “I loved seeing those every year.” The ocean of red and yellow made a beautiful place even more so.
He hauls me down with him on the grounds and sets me in his lap. Another month and there’ll be blankets all around, people claiming their spot for the summer concerts on the lawn.
“We’ll have to come back when they start the concerts. I think they’re on Wednesdays.”
He nuzzles against my neck. “Whatever you want, baby.”
He knows I love it here, that my heart is here. He knows how gut-wrenching it was for me to leave, and he knows why I did. But if I hadn’t, I never would’ve met the man who owns my heart more.
“As long as I’m with you, I can be happy anywhere.” I never want him to think I’m not grateful for the opportunity we were given. The chance to start a life, a family, in a great big house that’s all ours.
“Even outside of civilization?” he teases.
I snuggle in closer to him. “Yes, even there. I didn’t have my entire life to get used to it like you, so it’ll just take a little time.”
“And to think, some people actually want to live in peace and quiet. Crazy but it’s true.”
I start to giggle, but he silences me with his lips. Not enough to warrant a public disturbance charge but enough to show we belong together.
We disengage from our kiss. “Hey, how about we make the drive one of these days and go to New Glarus. I’ve never been. You can show me your old place, and we can take a brewery tour.”
When Cain finished high school, he moved twenty miles west and rented a house with some buddies. He stayed for a year, saving up money before starting college in Milwaukee. His aunt encouraged him to go; she loves her independence and didn’t need him sticking around and worrying about her. Now she’s living with a “gentleman friend” up in Eau Claire, having the time of her life with no hassles of taking care of a large piece of property. I make a mental note to visit her too.
“We can go for the beer, but believe me, there’s nothing to see with my old place.”
“I picture it as a cute little Swiss chalet.” That’s how I picture the entire town, actually.
“Take away the Swiss and chalet part, keep the little, and then you’ll be closer. Think two cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other with squares cut out for windows.”
“What, no doors?”
“That’s what the windows were for.”
I elbow him gently. “We should also drive up and pay your aunt a visit.”
“Nah, I don’t want to bother her. She’s too busy doing her own thing.”
I turn and face him. “Too busy for the boy she raised as her own? How can you say that?”
Cain shrugs, twirling a piece of my hair around his finger. He likes to talk about his aunt as much as I like to talk about my father. Another commonality we both accept, even if we don’t understand.
“Had enough sun?” he asks.
“Why, what do you have in mind?”
“Come on.” He pulls me up with him. “I’ll surprise you.”
I assume we’re going to tool around and do some more sightseeing, but my spirits take a dip when I notice we’re in the vicinity of the parking ramp. I hope he’s not taking me home already. That wouldn’t qualify as a surprise.
We get in the car, and soon we’re heading down John Nolen. When we turn onto an unfamiliar street, I glance over at him, but he just smirks.
“You really have no idea?”
“No—” Wait. I know what’s over here. “Really?” I ask, jumping up. Minutes later, we’re pulling into the lot and I’m pointing at a leashed golden-haired dog going for its walk out to the field. “I want that one.”
He laughs and swings into a front spot near the shelter doors. “You haven’t even seen what’s inside yet.”
“I’ll take those too.” I reach for the door handle, excited enough to relate to that little terrier chasing a ball across the fenced-in play area. I’ve asked for a dog since I could speak, but an allergic mom and apartment living didn’t make that possible. I’m ready to make up for lost time.
Oh wait. Our place isn’t up to speed for a pet. I tell him so with a bummed look.
“We can at least start the application process and look around. Our yard is already a dog’s dream, and the inside… well, we’ll just need to fix up anything he could get sick on if he chews. Shouldn’t take too long. The rest we can block off with baby gates.” Cain squeezes my hand. “It’ll be good practice.”
I grin. “He?”
“Or she.”
“What if I fall in love with her today?”
“Maybe we can put down a hold and a deposit. I’ve never adopted before, so I’m not sure.” He opens the door and waves me on. “One way to find out.”
We go inside and step into the line to put our name on a list. As expected on a weekend, it’s crowded, and the wait is an hour to meet any potential new family members. In the meantime, we have the same idea as everyone else, milling around and peering into cages.
I don’t fall in love with one. I fall in love with them all. We have five acres; that’s enough space for an entire pack.
“Do you want a puppy or a bit older?” Cain asks.
“Yes.”
If we adopt one over a year, we don’t need to worry about it peeing all over our future refinished hardwood floors, and she’ll be less likely to put everything into her mouth. But a puppy would grow up with our kids, and they’d get more time loving her.
I decide not to set any preconceived notions about the age, the sex, the breed. When the right one finds us, we’ll know.
We spend a few hours, submitting our application and talking with the caregivers, playing with everything from a three-year-old pit bull mix named Lucy Bell to a three-month-old King Charles spaniel named Henry. Not sure who named that one.
I’d be happy with any and all of them, but none in particular stands out as “the one.” For this reason, we leave with the promise to make regular visits back.
We stop for dinner at Di Marco’s, an out-of-the-way secret about halfway between Madison and Stockburg. By the time the telltale crunching of our driveway begins, I don’t believe anything could top this day.
The sky is softening just enough to make out the outline of millions of stars, and instead of going straight inside, we lie back on the hood of the car. We hold hands and stare up until it darkens around us and the stars grow sharper, proving me wrong. This tops off our day, bringing me a perfect night.
Maybe this was a dream after all, and I st
ill haven’t woken up from passing out on the couch. If so, I don’t care. I’ll float in this dream forever.
Because my husband is back.
Six
“I swear, I’m ready to slip a Midol in his coffee.”
I’m sitting at a corner table with Rowan at Carla’s, just having told her about Cain’s mood swings. Thankfully they’ve been on the pleasant, albeit quiet, end of the spectrum for the past two days. Nothing like Saturday’s bliss, but nothing like him flying off the handle either. I should be enjoying it, but since yesterday I’ve been on edge, waiting for the switch to flip.
“Maybe your house is haunted.”
I scoop up a forkful of pasta salad and roll my eyes. Already saw that coming. “I’m being serious, Rowan.”
“And so am I.” She sips her iced tea. “Didn’t you tell me his uncle died there?”
“Well yes, but he had a heart attack. It’s not like he was murdered.”
“Doesn’t matter. What kind of person was he in life? That’ll determine how nasty he is in death.”
Like his aunt, Cain doesn’t speak much of him either, but I think of how he put a little boy in charge of keeping the wood burning. Then I shake my head. “Cain’s uncle is not haunting our house.”
“It was built around 1910, 1920?”
“1870.”
“You said it was only a hundred years old!”
I shrug. “What’s the difference?”
She glares at me like I just asked her what century we’re in. “Oh, only fifty years. That’s a hell of a lot of time to gather unwanted guests, considering Wisconsin has the most ghosts per square mile in the country.”
“Rowan, you know I love you but….” I take a bite of my sandwich, pulling out a green pepper slice, ready to flick it at her. I’m not a big fan of them anyway.
“Don’t tell me you never thought of the possibility. He’s fine away from the house. Not so fine when he’s in it.”
“I never thought of it,” I say, words muffled as the bread sticks to the roof of my mouth. But she does have a point—Cain’s mood is better when he’s away.