California Wishes

by Casey Dawes

She placed her hands on Annie’s and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’ll be all right, Annie Gerhard.”

  Annie took the beach road home from Santa Cruz. Idly, she looked at the lazy boats in the harbor and the cars edging the beachfront. Seagulls soared and dove, doing loops that rivaled the best stunt pilot. She envied them their freedom.

  Once home, she didn’t bother going inside after parking the car. A walk on the beach sounded good to her. She walked the few short blocks to the stairway from the cliff to the beach. She drifted, more than walked down the steps, noticing flowers she’d never seen before poking their luminescent faces from the foliage.

  She kicked off her shoes at the edge of the boardwalk. Cool damp sand pebbles quickly covered her feet.

  Avoiding the remains of beach fires and shards of plastic toys, she picked her way to the shoreline. She stood on the packed sand and waited. Water crashed around her, wetting her jeans to the knees. Yelling with the shock, she laughed at her own reaction. She’d never felt so alive.

  A squawk alerted her to a seagull up the beach. She walked over to it. Strong wings beat for liftoff, but the bird stayed rooted to the sand, frantically cawing in fear, trapped in fishing line.

  She studied the bird for a few minutes, trying to ignore its thrashing and calls. If only she had something to cut the fishing line. Her bulky sweatshirt would protect her. If she put the seagull under her arm … Annie searched through her pockets for something sharp and smiled when her fingers touched the jackknife from her recycling.

  She made her move.

  It wasn’t as easy as she’d imagined. The bird didn’t want to get tucked under her arm and used his beak mercilessly to let her know it. But Annie persevered, finally kneeling and straddling the gull to get to its feet. The bird continued its attack on her rear. Good thing she had extra padding there.

  “Dammit! Cut that out! I’m only trying to help you!” she yelled. The sooner she cut the line, the better. Fortunately, the knife was sharp and the line had only wrapped around the left foot a few times.

  “There!” she said, launching herself off the gull when it was freed. The bird looked at her and squawked its indignation before flapping its wings and soaring off over the bay.

  She was covered with sand and gull bites. Her feet and legs were wet and cold. But as she watched the bird take flight, she knew part of her soul was flying with it.

  Laughing, she picked herself up and brushed the sand from her clothes. She trudged back up to the boardwalk, washed her feet, and stuffed them into her socks and shoes. It was going to be a beautiful day.

  When she’d arrived home from her walk on the beach, Annie went straight to the garage and retrieved her guitar. She wasn’t going to be able to support herself and David on the income of a singer-songwriter — at least not yet — but there was no reason she couldn’t start playing again. Looking at her watch, she was startled to realize how late it was. John would be here in less than an hour to pick her up.

  She flew around her bedroom. When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to imagine herself through John’s eyes. Will he like me?

  Her hair was unruly; there was no fix for that. She’d chosen an olive-green sweater to go with the jeans and sneakers John had recommended. Eye makeup highlighted the green of her eyes. Silver and jade earrings dangled from her ears. Okay. Not bad.

  But will he want me? The question rose unbidden from her mind.

  Annie shook her head. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, even if he did.

  The doorbell rang promptly at five. Annie took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “You look wonderful,” John said kissing Annie lightly on the mouth.

  The kiss was too brief; she wanted more.

  “Here,” John said as he handed her a small box. “I thought you might like these. I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

  “They’re perfect, John. I love Donnelly’s chocolates. Let me get my jacket.” She ran upstairs, dropped the box on a table, and grabbed her coat. “I’m ready.”

  He let her precede him down the front steps. “The truck’s not the sleekest date-night vehicle, but it’s what I have,” he said.

  “It’ll be fine, John.” She smiled, filled with happiness.

  They chatted amicably as they made their way to the cluster of wineries on the outskirts of Santa Cruz. John found a parking place on the street and they walked past the converted warehouse space to the Bonny Doon winery and café in the back. Tall open doors led into a cavernous room where replicated redwood wine tanks dominated the decor. A hostess escorted them past the tanks to the sleek café in the back.

  “Quite different from the last restaurant we went to,” John said.

  “Yes, but I’ve never been here before and I like new experiences.”

  “Me, too.” He grinned at her and she grinned back.

  Once their order was placed — roasted chicken for him, small crab cakes and a green bean and peach salad for her — it seemed natural to hold hands across the table. John rubbed her hand with the inside of his thumb. Annie shivered.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Everything’s wonderful,” she said, giving him a warm grin. I was only wondering what it would be like to have your hands all over my naked body.

  “Have you heard Ellis Paul before?” John asked.

  Annie told him of the time she’d seen the singer on a business trip to Boston. He’d been performing in a basement café in Cambridge. She described the concert, humming a few lines from some of Paul’s songs. He watched her with a slight smile, his eyes never leaving her face. Annie enjoyed the rapt attention. It’s the greatest gift anyone can give, she thought, complete listening.

  He entertained her by recounting some of the acts that he’d seen in Missoula, including the legendary Bob Dylan. By the time they finished their meal, they were primed to hear the concert.

  They walked to the winery and gave Sunshine’s name to the person at the door, a tall thin man with a ponytail.

  “Good thing she reserved the space for you. It’s a sold-out concert,” Jasper, the winery owner, said. “Would you like to be on our mailing list for future concerts?”

  “Sure,” John said, giving Jasper his e-mail address.

  “Me, too,” Annie said.

  After they claimed their seats with their jackets, they returned for a glass of wine from the tasting bar. She looked around while John paid for their drinks. Shiny metal tanks lined one side of the rows of chairs while stacked oak barrels buttressed the other. Tiny and industrial though it was, she absorbed the romance of the wine business — the sweet smell of fermenting grapes, the exotic names stamped on the barrel ends and the low murmur of voices from people having a good time.

  They sat on the metal folding chairs. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, glancing down at her as he did so. She snuggled next to him, enjoying his masculine smell.

  As good as Ellis Paul was, she was distracted throughout the concert. Her mind raced ahead to the end of the night. Should she invite John in? Was she ready for what might happen?

  “Remember what I told you,” John said as they walked to the car hand in hand.

  “What was that?” Had she missed something important?

  “When you’re ready to do your first concert, you can perform it at Ocean Reads.”

  “It’ll be a while,” she said, exhaling with relief. “But I promise your bookstore will be my comeback session.”

  “Good,” he said and leaned down to kiss her. Annie turned to him, hungry to feel his lips on hers. She leaned into his body and his arms encircled her. As they kissed, she felt his desire mount. He must have felt it, too, because he abruptly broke off the kiss.

  “The street is probably not the best place for this,” he said with a smile.
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the car. Every nerve in her body tingled.

  They chatted about the concert on the way to her house, not mentioning the kiss in the street. He drove with one hand, the other tightly grasping hers. When they reached her drive, he said, “Hang on, I’ll help you down.”

  He opened her door and she began to step out of the truck, but he put his hands on her waist and helped her out. She took in a quick breath as the warmth of his touch sent waves through her. He pulled her close and she raised her face to receive his kiss. His lips teased hers before he took possession of her mouth. She slipped her hands under his jacket and splayed them against his taut muscles, pulling him closer. She felt him grow hard against her leg.

  “Not here,” he said and put his hand in the small of her back to propel her up the stairs. She fumbled with her key but finally got the door open.

  “David’s at a friends,” she said at the same time he asked, “Where’s David?”

  “I feel like I’m sneaking into my parents’ house when they’re not home.” She giggled.

  “I know what you mean.”

  She took his hand and led him to the living room. He pulled her against him, one hand threading through her hair, pressing her mouth closer to his. The other hand caressed her back and then slipped under her sweater. He pulled back for a moment and looked at her questioningly. She nodded. Yes … oh yes.

  He untangled his hand from her hair and slid his palm to her bottom, pulling her close against him. She felt the heat build between her legs, moisture beginning to pool as her own desire mounted. He felt as good as she’d imagined — hard planes and sharp angles — totally male.

  She felt his hand tentatively cover her breast. They both groaned with the contact and he increased the pressure. His thumb rubbed her nipple, teasing it up, driving more ache to her groin. Their kisses deepened even further and she slid her hands to his butt, pulling him close.

  Gently, he lifted his lips from her mouth. His eyes were shining. “You’re so pretty, Annie. I want you, but if you’re not ready, we need to stop now, before things go any further. I don’t want to be someone you’ll regret in the morning.”

  She stared up at him. It was a big step, especially for someone she’d known only a short while. But he’d always treated her with respect and even now he was asking permission. She had the power to say yes or no, to do what she wanted. Wasn’t that what this whole journey she’d been on was about — to discover what she wanted and act on it?

  “I’ll be happy to see you in the morning,” she said and led the way to the bedroom.

  Once there, he turned her to face him. “I want to see you,” he said. “All of you.”

  Embarrassment overtook her. “No, you don’t. I’m not twenty anymore.”

  He laughed. “Neither am I. But you’re beautiful, Annie, and I want to make you believe it. May I?” He grasped the bottom of her sweater.

  She nodded.

  He kissed her after each article of clothing was removed. After he’d taken her bra off, he put his hands under her breasts, hefting their weight and rubbing his thumbs against the nipples. She arched back.

  “Your shirt, too,” she said. “I want to feel you against my skin.”

  He complied. She ran her fingers over his chest, stroking the fine silky hair that was sprinkled across his skin, and teasing his nipples. She lingered over a scar near his shoulder.

  He shrugged. “Penalty of ranch work.”

  She kissed the scar and traced the puckered skin with her tongue. He gave a small moan and cupped her breast with his hand. She rubbed her hips against his, the rough texture of his jeans intensifying her desire. When had she become so wanton?

  She gasped when he scooped her up and placed her on the bed. “And that’s the benefit of ranch work,” he chuckled. He leaned over her, and she lost herself in the depth of his blue eyes. “I want to make love to you, Annie,” he said. “May I?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Chapter 22

  An hour later, John lay with his arm wrapped around Annie, her head on his shoulder. Moonlight streamed through the unshaded bedroom window, allowing the ghostly shadows of furniture to take shape. He heard her give a contented sigh and smiled. He was startled when a few moments later he felt a drop of moisture. He rubbed her arm with his hand. “What’s the matter?”

  She rolled closer and buried her face in his chest. “I don’t know.” He could barely make out her muffled reply. Her tears increased and she made tiny sobs into his chest. He pulled her closer, stroked her hair with his hand, and waited it out.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” she said. “Making love to you was so good.”

  He stayed silent. Sometimes Jessica had cried after they made love. He didn’t understand it at first, but began to realize that his wife’s tears were a release of all the tension in her life, particularly after the cancer diagnosis. He’d learned that the best way to handle it was to be quiet, hold her, and let her process on her own.

  He felt Annie shudder. “Maybe that’s why I’m crying.” She lifted her tear-stained face to him. “That was the best sex I ever had in my life.” The tears started again. “Drat!”

  She struggled from his arms and reached for a tissue. She dried her eyes, sat up, pulled the sheet over her bare breasts and tucked it behind her.

  He could feel her staring at him and flipped to his side, propping his head up on his hand.

  “You don’t know me well enough,” she said. “If you did, you wouldn’t have wanted me.” She hiccupped a sob.

  He couldn’t stay silent any longer. Sitting up, he grasped her hands in his. “What are you talking about? You’re wonderful. We’ve both had things happen in life we wish hadn’t happened. I’ve seen you with your son and I’ve seen you trying to do the right thing for everyone around you. I know you well enough.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know everything.”

  “Then tell me.”

  She looked at him wide-eyed, took a deep breath, and started her story.

  John felt his anger grow as she described her father’s abuse and attempts to rape her. If the man wasn’t already dead, he’d have hunted him down and killed the bastard himself. How could anyone do that to an innocent woman and child? Sometimes he hated his own gender.

  “Oh, honey,” he said when she’d finished. “That’s not your fault. Your dad was a nasty piece of work.” He reached out to take her in his arms.

  She put up her hands to stop him. “There’s more,” she said.

  He watched as she stood up and walked to her dresser. Although he was curious about her action, he appreciated the sight of her body in the moonlight. All her curves were in the right places and he felt a stirring in his groin as he watched her.

  When she came back to bed, she had an envelope in her hand. She handed it to him. Her name was scrawled on the front. “He left it in my underwear drawer before he shot himself. Open it,” she said. “Open it and you’ll know why I don’t deserve someone like you.”

  He did as she asked and pulled out a yellowed square of paper. “If you’d been a better daughter,” it said, “I wouldn’t have had to kill myself. You’ll never be good enough for any man.”

  His rage exploded. “Bastard!” he shouted as he crumpled the paper in his hand.

  She reached out her hand as if to stop him and then halted. Slowly, she climbed back into bed and sat, her back against the headboard, sheets pulled up to her chin. She stared straight ahead as if mesmerized.

  “I was only a little girl. All my life I’ve remembered him splattered across the bathroom. The words on that note are seared in my brain. But I was just a little girl. And my mother was brave enough and strong enough to protect me, even though she couldn’t do it for herself.”

  She dre
w her knees up to her chest. “I thought marrying Fred would make my dad’s voice go away. It did for a while, but I couldn’t keep Fred happy, either.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not right. He was unhappy on his own. We’re each responsible for our own happiness, aren’t we?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wet with tears, streaks running down her face.

  He nodded and gestured to the crumpled up piece of paper. “That note is the last cruel act of a very sick man. You’re right. You were a little girl and Fred had his own problems. Maybe now that he’s sober, he’ll make amends for what happened in the past. You couldn’t have kept him from drinking. Believe, Annie.” He leant in and kissed her lips briefly. “Believe that you are good. Your heart and soul are brave and true. You’ve endured more than most women would be able to and survived.”

  He leaned away from her and studied her. Her eyes were still on his face.

  “Is that everything?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “So, I know everything about you and you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m willing to take the risk. You are a beautiful woman, in and out. I want to know you better and help you believe what you already know — you didn’t cause your father’s or Fred’s problems. I want to love you because I know you’re capable of loving me the way I want to be loved.”

  He kissed her gently and helped her slide back down into the bed. They held each other for a while before they coaxed each other to arousal. When they were finished, they both drifted off to sleep.

  • • •

  “Mind if I use the shower?” a male voice whispered in her ear.

  Annie’s eyes flew open and immediately shut after being hit by the glare of morning sunlight. A wave of warmth sliced through her as the memories of the previous night lit up her brain.

  “Not at all,” she murmured with a smile. “I keep spare razors and shaving gel for David in there if you need them.”

  The next time she opened her eyes, the sunlight was blocked by John’s face as he lowered his head to kiss her. “Morning,” he said.