Second Wind

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “Lincoln, grab your coat. You’re taking me and Carl to Scoops.”

  “What? Now?” Linc asked. “It’s December.”

  “They serve hot cocoa and coffee along with some tasty baked treats. I forgot to make dessert.”

  “What’s going on?” Linc asked. I didn’t just hear him approaching behind me, I felt it. “Oh,” he said when he looked over my shoulder to see my mother standing on the front porch. She looked up then and smiled slightly. “Hello, Lincoln.”

  “Mrs. Holden,” he said firmly, placing his hand at the small of my back to offer comfort. “I think I’ll stay here with Rush, Mom. You and Carl have a nice time.”

  “Now, Lincoln,” Lillian said firmly.

  I turned sideways to look at Linc. “It’s okay. Take your mom and Carl to get hot cocoa and dessert. Maybe you’ll be nice enough to bring me back something chocolatey.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Positive.” I kissed him quickly on the lips and stepped back so my mom could enter.

  “We won’t be gone long,” Linc said.

  “Come on, Linc,” Lillian said when her son lingered in the doorway. “I’m not getting any younger.”

  “You didn’t seem to have any issues when you were chasing me around the living room a few minutes ago,” Linc said before he closed the door and followed his mom and Carl.

  My mother didn’t say anything for several moments. She just stood looking at me like she was trying to compare the differences between the boy she raised and the man she didn’t know. She offered me a small, awkward smile. “You look really well, Rush,” she finally said.

  I wished I could say the same, but time had not been kind to Alice Holden. She looked so much older than Lillian, but maybe the stress of turning her back on her children aged her. “Why did you come here?” I asked instead of commenting on her appearance. I thought it was best to get to the point, so I didn’t offer to take her coat or suggest we have a seat in the living room or at the kitchen table.

  “I heard it from Mary who heard it from Sarah that—”

  “Mom,” I interrupted her. “I didn’t ask how you knew I was here; I asked why you came.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

  “Did you make it easy on me when I came to you with my heart in my hand and tears in my eyes, asking you to love me even though I wasn’t the son you wanted?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Her chin wobbled, and she looked at her feet to escape my accusing glare. “I was a horrible mother, a despicable human being.”

  I felt this little bud of hope start to unfurl in my heart like a rose, but I urged myself to proceed with caution. “Does he know that you’re here with me right now?”

  She didn’t move or look at me, didn’t acknowledge my question at all.

  “Mom?”

  “No,” she whispered. “He thinks I ran to the market for laundry detergent.” She looked up then, and I saw the silent tears running down her face. “I just wanted to see you and know that you’re okay and happy. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, so I won’t ask for it. I have missed you and Jules every single day since you left town. There’s nothing I regret more in life than not standing up for you, but I was…”

  “Afraid.”

  “Yes.” My mother pulled a tissue out of her coat pocket and dried her eyes. “That’s no excuse because I at least was an adult. You were nothing more than a boy going off to a big city with your sister. I had nightmares about all the horrible things that could’ve happened to you and Julia. Your father tried to pretend that the two of you didn’t exist, but I couldn’t do it. He got so mad every time he found me crying in one of your bedrooms, but I found comfort being near your things. I fixed your favorite meals at the holidays and on your birthdays. I secretly donated money to charities that I thought you and Jules would support. Rush, I—”

  I held up my hand to stop her. It didn’t make me feel better to know that she missed us. It pissed me off. “You’re talking about us like we had died. That’s the kind of behavior I’d expect from a mother whose children were ripped away from her. You gave us up. You threw us away.”

  “I know what I did, Rush. I am sorry, whether you believe it or not.”

  “What did you hope to gain by coming here, Mom?”

  “I didn’t expect anything, Rush. I just wanted to see you.”

  “And now that you’ve seen me?” Did she feel better, because I sure as hell didn’t.

  “Too much time has passed for us to truly reconcile,” she said.

  “Time isn’t the issue, Mom. It’s intent. Do you think you’re proving anything by sneaking around to see me? What do you plan on doing when I return to Chicago with Lincoln? Call me when Dad’s bowling? I refuse to be your damn dirty secret.”

  She flinched, and I was sorry for raising my voice. “I’m sorry, Rush. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

  “I’m going to write down mine and Jules’s phone numbers. You can call us once you’re strong enough to stand up to Dad.” I walked over to the notebook that Lillian kept by her phone. I jotted down the numbers and returned to my mom. “One more thing,” I said. “I am not a pervert or a deviant. My love for Lincoln is just as pure as the love between any man and woman. If you ever call me, I’m going to assume you accept that too.”

  I extended the piece of paper to her. She stared at it for so long that I thought she would reject it, but she finally took it and slid it inside her pocket.

  “You better get on to the store before Dad starts to wonder what you’re up to. If you heard I was in town, so did he.”

  She only nodded and walked to the door. “Goodbye, Rush.”

  “Goodbye, Mom.”

  After she left, I collapsed on the couch and sat in stunned silence. I wasn’t sure what to think about the interaction, and I refused to hope that my mom would stand up to my father and call Jules or me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the couch and tried to think of happier things going on in my life, such as the man I loved and the ever-growing family of people who loved us. I thought about how badly I wanted to extend our family even more. All those things helped push the sadness from old and new hurts away.

  A few minutes later, Linc and Lillian returned. Instead of sitting down beside me, Lincoln carried my jacket and scarf to me. He grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and smiled seductively. “I know how I can make this night better for you.”

  “Something chocolatey would’ve been nice,” I said with a little pout.

  “I have hot chocolate and scrumptious brownies waiting for us in the car.” Linc smiled when I shot to my feet and put on my coat.

  I didn’t bother to ask where we were going, because it didn’t matter; I’d follow that man anywhere. I wasn’t at all surprised when Lincoln drove to our old high school and parked as close as he could to the football stadium.

  “Grab the goodies and I’ll grab the blanket,” he said.

  I picked up the carrier that held two delicious-smelling hot chocolates and a small paper bag. I held it with my right hand and grabbed Lincoln’s ass with my left hand when he rounded the car to join me.

  “You told me to grab the goodies,” I said, earning a hot kiss.

  Lincoln hummed low in his throat when he pulled away. “I got to wondering after we reenacted our first dance with upgrades. What else would I do over with you, or do that I never got a chance to when we were in high school?”

  “Ohhh, do you want to make out under the bleachers like all the other kids did?”

  “I figured, with our advanced years, we might try to get a little more comfortable,” Linc replied, holding up the blanket for me to see.

  “Let’s go.”

  During warm weather, a few lights around the stadium would’ve been on for people who liked to walk the track at night for exercise, but the school district kept the area dark in the winter to save on money, rather than invest in solar lights tha
t would’ve been less expensive and discourage deviant behavior like what Linc and I had in mind.

  The night sky was mostly clear with just a little cloud cover, so we used the light from the moon to make our way to the center of the bleachers. Linc laid the blanket down for us to sit on then we pulled the edges up and over so we could huddle beneath it.

  Linc set the goodies down on the bleacher in front of us and cupped my face. I loved the way his eyes shone with love in the moonlight. He kissed me softly at first then let his lips linger against mine until my mouth parted so a sappy sigh could escape. Linc didn’t use that to his advantage to push inside my mouth; instead, his tongue slowly circled just the tip of mine. I tightened my lips and sucked his tongue into my mouth, wanting more from him.

  Linc’s hands were in my hair, and I slid mine beneath his sweatshirt and scraped my nails against his tight abs. Sighs and moans quickly turned to groans of need, so we eased apart to catch our breath and get ourselves under control. As much as I wanted to jack Linc off beneath the blanket, it wouldn’t be wise. I didn’t want to think what would happen if we were caught making out or outright fucking on school property. Even though we probably wouldn’t be the first couple to take advantage of the darkness, I somehow felt the local law would view two men fucking differently than a man and a woman.

  “The things that you do to me, Lincoln Huxley.” After one last, long kiss, I gestured to the goody bag. I refrained from making jokes about wishing I could have something salty to counterbalance the sweet, because it wouldn’t take much for me to throw caution to the wind.

  Lincoln pulled a brownie from the bag and held it up for me to take a bite. I moaned in delight when the brownie melted in my mouth. “Good,” I said. “More.” Linc smiled because they were the same words I grunted during sex when I was so close to coming that I couldn’t form coherent thoughts. He leaned forward and kissed the crumbs from the corner of my mouth then held the brownie for me to take another bite.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “I already ate mine with Mom and Carl. This is just for you.” Linc leaned forward and said, “Besides, I get to taste the chocolate in your kiss.”

  “I could get used to this,” I said then took another bite.

  “Are you okay, babe?” Linc asked after I swallowed.

  “I will be,” I told him, unwilling to pretend that seeing my mother didn’t hurt me.

  “I’ve loved you for a thousand years,” Linc said tenderly, “and I can promise you a million more.”

  “That’s the kind of line you use in your wedding vows,” I said then smiled. “Not the one about sharing nuts.”

  “Maybe we can have both public and private vows,” Linc suggested. “Keep it clean while standing in front of our friends and family, but vow to always eat each other’s asses once we’re alone.” He waggled his brows suggestively, but my mind was still stuck on his first suggestion. God, I wanted to marry this man and spend the rest of my life loving him.

  “Last bite.” Linc held it to my mouth, but then jerked it back when I parted my lips to devour the last morsel. Instead, he popped it into his mouth and began to chew.

  Under the moon and stars, and surrounded by the warmth of Lincoln’s love, I decided that the place where we’d experienced the greatest sorrows would become the place we experienced the greatest joy. “Marry me, Linc.”

  His eyes widened in surprise at first, but then a joyous smile spread across his handsome face.

  “How does a week from tomorrow sound?”

  “Perfect!” Yep, all was going to be right in my world—with or without my mother.

  As much as I wanted to marry Rush a week after his impromptu proposal, I thought it would be best to plan a wedding so that our family had time to prepare and attend. I mentioned that to him the morning after we returned home.

  “Do you doubt my intentions?” Rush had asked me, filling his coffee cup while I kept a close eye on the waffle iron. “Did you think I asked because I was upset?”

  “No, I saw the sincerity and love in your eyes,” I answered honestly. “That’s not the issue at all.”

  “I don’t want a fancy wedding, Linc. I just want to be yours.” His green eyes shone with fervor and love. “I adore our family, but this isn’t about them; it’s about us. Why can’t we have a simple ceremony, and then have a big party to celebrate later?”

  “Or we do this right the first time.”

  “Define right?” Rush asked.

  “Think about all the dreams we had when we were younger? Did you dream of marrying me in a courthouse in front of a monotoned justice of the peace?”

  “Linc, I never allowed myself to hope that someday we’d share a last name or be legally recognized as anything, let alone become husbands.”

  “Come on,” I said, “I don’t buy that for a minute. You always had your head in the clouds, Rush. You lived for the what if and what could be. You’re a dreamer, a visionary, and a hopeless romantic. Be that little boy who looked at clouds and saw dinosaurs and bunnies when all I saw was mashed potatoes and cotton balls. Baby, tell me the kind of wedding you dreamed of having with me.”

  I could tell the moment that I won, the absolute second he realized a quickie wedding at the courthouse was not the way he wanted to start our lives together. “We wore matching white tuxedos with rainbow bowties and rode up to the altar on unicorns.” Or maybe not.

  “Be serious,” I told him.

  “I am serious. Madonna married us.”

  “Rush,” I growled.

  “Okay, fine!” He threw his hands in the air and paced away from me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the way his rounded ass looked with his sleep pants hanging low on his hips. He had those amazing little ass dimples that I loved to bite and paint with my cum, marking him as mine. Mine. Yeah, yeah. We were talking about making him permanently mine. “Quit distracting me with your perfect ass.” He spun around and suddenly smiled diabolically. I pointed the spatula at him. “Pull your pants up too. Your ass dimples are playing peekaboo and my cock wants to play hide-and-seek with your sphincter. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

  “Something smells hot,” Rush said about the same time I noticed the smoke coming from the waffle iron.

  “Dammit!” I lifted the lid and discovered my Sunday morning surprise had turned into a Sunday morning disaster. “I’d planned on serving you Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”

  “Trying to sweeten me up before you break it to me that you aren’t ready to get married after all?” Rush asked.

  “You know better,” I replied, unwilling to be deterred from the subject that I brought up. “If I was trying to pull a fast one then I would’ve waited until after I fed you a delicious breakfast.” Rush looked at the charred waffle I removed from the iron. “Practice run,” I said confidently. I dropped the waffle on a plate to cool before I threw it away. “Back to our conversation. Tell me about the kind of wedding you envisioned.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I imagined when I was a kid; it only matters what I want now.”

  “It matters if you’re settling. We only have one wedding, Rush.” I ladled more batter onto the waffle iron and closed the lid. “Let’s compromise, okay?”

  “Maybe,” he said, sounding slightly less stubborn.

  “I’m not asking for a large, lavish affair. I’m not asking to wait a year, or even six months. Can you give me until March or April?”

  “February,” Rush said.

  “Babe, that’s weeks away. All the best venues or churches will be booked.”

  “We’ll get married here.”

  “In the kitchen?” I asked.

  “Or the living room,” he said. “Look, we’ll invite less than twenty people so why bother with a venue? We can hire a caterer to fix the meal.”

  “What caterer isn’t booked in advance?”

  “One who’s just getting started and would love the opportunity to work with a photographer
with connections,” Rush replied.

  “You sound like you have a plan in mind,” I said.

  “Of course, I have a plan, Linc. There’s like six weeks until Valentine’s Day. I know it’s not much time for Phee and Jackson to make travel arrangements, but…”

  “Phee wouldn’t miss it unless she wasn’t physically able to travel.” I reached for his hand and pulled him closer until I felt the heat of his bare chest press through my T-shirt. “Valentine’s Day?”

  “You asked me what I had wanted as a kid, right? Well, Valentine’s Day is supposed to be the ultimate day for love and romance. It was the day you openly declared your love for someone by saying ‘Be Mine.’ I dreamed of the day that I wouldn’t have to sneak you the paper hearts I made or chocolates that I stole from the convenience store.”

  “You were so bad,” I whispered against his lips. “It’s kind of hot.” This time, the rising temperature in the kitchen had nothing to do with the damn waffles. It was the sexy man in my arms. “I can live with Valentine’s Day, as long as there’s no gaudy cupid and red hearts for decorations.”

  “Don’t insult me,” Rush said. “I stage stunning scenes for a living, and I would never make our wedding look gauche and cheap.”

  Six weeks later, on a Wednesday, our living and dining rooms were rearranged for our wedding and reception. Just as I suspected, my romantic husband-to-be couldn’t resist adding a cupid here or there, but at least they were in the form of gold, antique-looking candle holders. Instead of red hearts, we set the table with red and white roses in crystal vases. In fact, there wasn’t a heart to be seen anywhere.

  I was a tiny bit disappointed that I couldn’t tease him about it, but that was forgotten when I looked into Rush’s eyes as we recited the vows that would finally tie our lives together. It was impossible for me to be aware of our surroundings, or even the people who attended to celebrate our union, when those green eyes I loved so much shimmered with tears of love and joy. In fact, the pastor had to give me a little nudge when it was time to seal our vows with a kiss.