by Howe, Violet
Hope your wedding went well. I waited for you for a while, but I guess you're having a late night. I left Roscoe here to keep you company. Hope you can handle the commitment.
Talk to you tomorrow. C.
I went to sleep with Roscoe in my arms, a smile on my face, and Rosaline's words in my head.
"Don't worry, Tyler."
Cabe is definitely worth waiting for.
Sunday, January 12th
Cabe and I went to Ybor City again today. No music festival going on, so the streets were much quieter than last weekend. We took our time meandering through the quaint shops and admiring the old architecture left behind by the Cuban and Spanish influences of the area's cigar history. We found a funky little vintage clothing shop, and he patiently waited as I tried on outfit after outfit, offering his appreciation for the ones he liked and laughing hysterically at the more outlandish ones.
We drank mojitos and listened to live music at sidewalk cafes, walking along hand in hand. Sometimes stopping to steal a kiss. I felt like a million bucks walking alongside him. I have always seen the way girls cast appreciative glances his way, and a mingle of pride and possessiveness filled me when they looked at him today.
I know this sounds like a voiceover in a cheesy movie, but today was a good day to be alive. The crisp air filled my lungs and the cool breeze tickled my skin. The sky was an unbelievably clear blue, so deep and alluring I couldn't help staring up into it. The sun bathed the buildings and the trees in a golden brightness that made every color vividly clear. Like watching a really well-done 3D movie with layers of complex scenery.
And Cabe. Oh Cabe. I cannot believe my good fortune. He's still my best friend. Still laughing and joking the same way we always have. Still having the same intense debates about whatever topics came to mind. Still interested in the same music, the same art. But now it's different. It's deeper. It's better than I could have ever imagined. Not only do I have my very best friend walking by my side, but I am hyper aware of the incredible hotness of the man.
His broad, muscular shoulders. His biceps so strong beneath my fingers on his arm. And those legs, so long and lean I have to take three steps for one of his to match his relaxed stride.
And those eyes. God, I could just stare into his eyes all day. So clear and light today they looked more silver or grey than blue. But always sparkling with mischief, and occasionally deepening with desire.
Speaking of desire. Wow. It is amazing that I have walked side by side with this man, slept by him, woken up next to him, laid across him on beach and couch and bed, and have never experienced the surges I have coursing through me now whenever he is near. I get goosebumps when he looks at me. Sometimes I can’t look away, and my insides bubble up all warm and tingly when he smiles and says, ‘What?’
I shake my head and say ‘Nothing’ because I don’t dare tell him how giddy I am inside.
Even the most casual contact tingles and sparks. Which probably explains why I can't keep my hands off him, and vice-versa. He touches me every chance he gets. His hand always on my back. A little squeeze of my hand. A brief kiss brushed against my cheek or the top of my head. A light caress of my rear end as I brush past him in a store.
And the looks he gives me. God, the come-hither look when I emerge from the dressing room is enough to make me want to pull him back in there with me.
It’s like I just hit puberty or something. I can't think about anything but being with him. Wondering what it will be like. When it will happen. How it will happen. I am obsessed. With Cabe. Who would have ever thought it possible?
We ended up on the couch again tonight, elbows and knees akimbo as we twisted and writhed and moved against one another instinctively.
But then he did it again.
He went from panting breathless, pursuing a goal with a concerted effort, to suddenly looking at me with that goofy grin and telling me how beautiful I am. It's maddening. I have sworn to myself that I won't pressure him about the past or the future, what to call our relationship, or whether or not we'll ever get a real dog without a ‘made in Taiwan’ label on its butt.
This, however, needed addressing.
"Why do you do this?" I pushed his long curls off his forehead and tousled his hair as I smiled up at him.
"Do what?" He smiled, fully aware of what I meant. He traced my jawline with his pinkie finger and then put his hand behind my head and pulled me forward for a kiss so passionate I almost forgot what I needed to know.
I remembered when he let go.
"This. You come onto me like I'm water in the desert, and you get me all revved up and ready to go, and then boom. You just pull back like it all means nothing and announce you're leaving. What's up with that?"
"I've told you. I want to wait. I want it to be right." He didn't stop stroking his fingers along my forearm as he talked. Could he really be so oblivious to what he was doing to me?
"Wait for what? When will it be right?"
He chuckled. "Tyler, you know I want you. I think it's rather obvious." He grinned and pulled me tighter against the evidence. "But I don't know. I feel like we were friends for so long, and I just don't want to go anywhere we can't come back from."
Shock numbed me like I’d been doused in cold water.
"Okay, so what does that mean? Do you want us to just be friends?" I cocked my head to the side and tried to fight the fear welling up inside me.
"We still are friends, Ty. And we're exploring that deeper and further. I just want to make sure we don't go too fast and make any decisions we regret."
Whoa, Nelly. What did that mean? We still are friends? Does he somehow think none of this meant anything? That we're just friends? I know I said before I didn't need a label or a definition, but I changed my mind.
"So we're still just friends?"
"You're putting words in my mouth. We are friends. And no matter what else we become and where this goes, I hope we will always be friends. Obviously, we've gone beyond that, but I don't want us to rush into anything."
I moved to sit up.
"I don't get it. Your hands are all over me all day. You're kissing me every chance you get. We're all up in each other's business on the couch. How do you just shut that down and say you don't want to go any further?"
"Again, you're putting words in my mouth. I never said I didn't want to go any further. But what I want and what I think is best are two different things. A lot has changed between us in the last couple of weeks, but it's only been that. A couple of weeks. I just feel like we need to put on the brakes a little. That's all."
I heard him. And I suppose on some level I understood him. I know I should have, like, admired him for it or something. Being a gentleman. Being chivalrous. Being cautious.
But I had never wanted anyone like I wanted Cabe. I felt like every doubt I'd ever had—about him, about love, about sex, any of it—was gone. I just wanted to be with him. His resistance conflicted with that and compounded my frustration.
What if I didn't want to wait? What if I wanted him to take me right then and there? What did that make me?
I've never been one to jump into bed with every guy I've dated, but surely this meant more than just a casual fling. In my mind, we had wasted so much time already. Why wait longer? If we both knew what we knew, then why not just go all in?
I felt frustrated. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. I sighed in frustration and got up to pace the floor.
"Would you rather I just didn't touch you?" Cabe asked.
"No! Why would I rather that?" I flung my arms to the side and looked at him with an expression I am sure said "Idiot!"
He laughed and came to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close.
"Ty, patience has never been your virtue."
"I don't think I have any virtues." I knew just my saying that probably jolted my mother awake from a deep sleep without a clue as to why.
He pressed his lips against mine and held them there. No tongue action, no gropin
g, no panting. Just a simple physical connection of tenderness that melted my anger away.
When he pulled back, I smiled at him. And I let him go without any further argument.
I still think he's worth the wait, but I don't like it. Not one bit.
Wednesday, January 15th
Cabe texted this afternoon to say he had great news and wanted to celebrate. To wear something fancy and be ready by six. I can count on one hand the number of times he's requested fancy in the five years I've known him, so I knew it must be something good.
He buzzed with excitement as we drove to the restaurant, singing at the top of his lungs and playing piano, guitar and drums simultaneously on the steering wheel. He teased me with hints about his news, but then insisted on waiting until we were seated to spill the beans. I practically shoved the seating hostess away from our table as soon as we sat down so he could finally tell me.
"February marks six months that I've been back in Orlando."
I hoped the news was going to get better than that. A bittersweet reminder that he didn't call me as soon as he got back from his ill-fated move to Seattle and the short-lived marriage that happened there. I forced the smile to stay pasted on my face as he continued.
"Wade, my old boss, has been trying to move me back into his team, but they told him he had to wait six months after my transfer."
Cabe had taken a step down in order to move to Seattle with Monica, which he'd been willing to do since he thought she was the love of his life. Then he had taken another demotion in order to move back here to Orlando when Monica decided he wasn't the love of her life. It was nice of the company to work with him on both moves, but I knew he didn't enjoy the new position as much as his old job. On top of that, along with the two pay cuts, he had also given up some of the perks of his former position. Namely, working from any remote location of his choosing, extra weeks of vacation time, and a sizable annual bonus.
"Starting the second week of February, I will be completely reinstated to my old status with full pay and benefits." He laid his palm across his chest as he spoke, bowing his head slightly after his announcement.
I clapped my hands and laughed, my eyes filled with tears of happiness and pride. I knew the entire Seattle situation had been a huge blow to Cabe's ego. The divorce. Monica leaving him for another woman. Moving back home with his mom. And, of course, returning to the old office building two steps lower than he had left it. So having his former job restored marked a huge step in his recovery and healing from the whole fiasco.
"That's wonderful! Cabe, I'm so happy for you!"
"Thanks, Buttercup. I'm pretty happy myself. I missed working with my old team and being on the inside of the new projects think tank. I know you probably think computers are computers and it's all pretty boring, but there really is a difference in what I've been doing and I missed the work."
"No, I know that. I won't pretend I understand what you do, but I know you were much happier before. I think you used to come up with new stuff and how to make it work, and I guess now you've just been typing all day."
Cabe laughed as the waitress poured our water. "That's a pretty watered-down description of what I do, Ty. I was a program manager, and I've moved back down to being a developer since I've been home. Now I'll be a program manager again."
Greek to me. I had no better idea what he did for a living than before he explained it, but oh well. I was happy for him, and he was happy. That's all that mattered.
He ordered a few appetizers and a rather expensive bottle of champagne. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed again. "We're celebrating!"
"Wow, you must be happy. You don't even like champagne," I said.
"I don't like cheap champagne, Buttercup. There's a difference."
I nodded and smiled at him. I swear he was glowing. He carried himself differently, with his head held high and his shoulders relaxed, like a huge weight had been lifted from him. The tension I’d grown accustomed to seeing in his face was gone, replaced with an easy smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes with soft lines. Seeing him so happy swelled my heart to near bursting, and I reached my hand across the table to take his. He squeezed my hand in return, leaning over the table to meet me for a kiss.
I have no idea what will happen in our lives, and I have no idea if Cabe and I will get a happily ever after ending. But in that moment, at that table, gazing into those blue eyes and basking in his sweet smile, I know I have never been happier in my life. I have never felt more completely at peace. To be sitting with him, hand in hand, sharing kisses and celebrating the future, filled me with such joy and contentment I thought I was going to be a total dork and cry. My throat felt constricted, and I struggled to swallow as I blinked back tears.
"Are you gonna cry?" Cabe leaned forward and grinned, taking my chin in his and kissing me again.
"I'm just happy for you. Shut up."
"I'm happy, too, but I'm not crying."
Warmth spread across my cheeks as I blushed. I wanted so much to tell him I loved him. To say how sorry I was it took me so long to know it. To apologize for any time he felt it or wanted to say it and couldn't. For any time I hurt him—or rejected him. I wanted to say I didn't mean to rush things, and I would wait however long he needed. To tell him I would never leave his side, and that I wanted us to celebrate every milestone together from here on out. But then our champagne arrived, and the words stuck in my throat as I reached for my glass.
"To happy days ahead." Cabe raised his glass in a toast.
"Happy days ahead." I clinked my glass against his and savored the tickle of bubbles sliding down my throat and chasing the tears away.
"And now, for the best part." He drained his glass and shifted in his seat, obviously excited to tell me the rest of his news.
"There's more?" I asked as he refilled our glasses.
"Wade petitioned the board to reinstate my share of the bonus for the projects my team completed last year. It's only a portion based on my work in the upstart of each project, but they've approved his request, and I will be receiving a rather sizable check at the end of the month. So I'm thinking we should plan a trip for your birthday. Anywhere you want to go!"
"What?" My mouth dropped open and then closed again as I squealed in delight. "Seriously?"
"Yep. You pick the destination, and we'll do it. Where do you want to go?"
"Oh my gosh, Cabe. I don't know. I'd have to think about it. Are you sure that's what you want to do? I mean, do you want to take that money and use it to move out of the pool house?"
"Tyler, it's not like I'm broke or I can't afford to move out of Mom's. I just haven't been motivated to find a place. The pool house was an easy solution when I came back from Seattle, and I haven't thought much about packing up and moving again. Not that there's much to pack this time around. But still. This is a bonus I wasn't expecting, so I want to do something special. With you. I want to take you somewhere for your birthday weekend. You just tell me where. The Caribbean. New York. Paris."
"Paris? Oh my God, Cabe. You're not kidding around. Holy crap. We can't do that in a weekend."
"Why not?"
"Well, because. I mean, we just . . . I mean, well . . .”
"Why not? You don't have a wedding on your birthday. I already checked your calendar, and I called Melanie to see if you were scheduled for rehearsals or anything, and she said you could be off if you needed to."
"Wait, you called Mel? When?"
"Yesterday. I wanted to surprise you with the trip already planned out and give you tickets tonight, but then I figured it might be best to let you pick where you wanted to go."
"Oh wow. You're completely serious. But what about your work?"
"I talked to Wade when we met about the new position. I have to hit the ground running with a new project as soon as I transition over in February. But he's willing to give me Thursday, Friday, and Monday off the weekend of your birthday. I would love for it to be longer, but we can at least take a lo
ng weekend away. So whaddya say? Weekend in Paris?"
I couldn't formulate coherent thoughts. I was stunned.
Paris? With Cabe? For my birthday? A few short moments earlier I had thought to myself that I had never been happier in my life. And then this? Blown away. Completely blown away. Happier than I could ever have imagined.
"Wow, Cabe. Okay. Yes! Yes, a weekend in Paris. But wait. My birthday's only like two months away. How are we going to plan a trip to Paris in two months? Maybe we should go someplace closer."
"No, Mom's best friend is a travel planner. I already called her and asked her to start scouting out locations. I'll tell her Paris. If that's definitely where you want to go."
"Sure. But I don't speak French."
"It's okay. I do. And a lot of Parisians speak English. If you're not rude to them, they're pretty much not rude to you."
"Oh wow. I think I'm in shock."
He laughed. "That's good, I hope. I want you to be happy. Are you happy?"
"Oh yes. Yes. A million times yes. Wow. I keep saying wow, don't I?"
So obviously I need to just chill on the relationship thing. He's happy. I'm happy. We're going to Paris. I need to just relax and trust that things are going to happen in their own time.
Thursday, January 16th
My happiness from last night spilled over into this morning. Mama called and I actually answered the phone with a cheerful, "Good morning, Mama!"
"Well, good morning, baby! You're awful chipper this morning."
"Just having a good day, Mama." A good day. A good month. A good year. Looks like the tides have turned and I'll be having a good life.
"I sure am glad to hear that. I love when my young'uns are happy. Your sister Tanya got a new minivan. One of those fancy ones where the doors just open up when you push the button and then close by themselves once you get in. Takes forever for them to close, though. You could just shut it yourself and be out the driveway in the time it takes, but she likes it. It's got TV screens in the back for the kids, so I guess they'll be glued to the tube every time they're in the car. I swear those kids wouldn't know what to do without a TV or an iPad in their hands. They're talking about getting Eric a phone. Now what in tarnation he needs with a phone, I don't know. He's eight years old. Who's he gonna call? I mean, really. But if that's how they want to spend their money, then who am I to judge? I'm just her mother, you know."