Twisting the cap off after she hands it to me, I lean over and pour the liquid into the two cups she’s now holding in her hands, taking one and resting in between my legs before screwing the cap back on and placing the bottle back into the basket.
Bringing the cup to my lips, I take a nice long swallow as she places hers down and lifts a plate out of the basket and hands it over, making me question what the plates already laid out are for if these are our actual food.
“Dinner is served.”
Pulling the plastic away to unveil the dish underneath, I’m not at all surprised to see my favorite food on the plate. With her uncanny ability to put together a recreation of the best birthday in existence, it’s only natural she’d nail the food too.
“Oh God! There’s meatballs and everything.”
Grabbing a fork from the basket, I dive in, not even waiting for her to bring out her own plate to join me. There’s no way with as amazing as this looks, along with the mouthwatering way it smells that I’m waiting to try it.
It also doesn’t help that after practice, I was starving. It only makes the need to devour the plate even more prominent.
Laughing as she looks from me to the plate that I’m now inhaling the fifth bite of, she slips the plastic off hers and begins eating. Stopping after she’s chewed and swallowed her second bite to laugh again.
“You’re supposed to chew your food before you eat it.”
“Can’t—help—it.” I respond between chews. “It’s too good.”
She smiles at the compliment before turning her attention back to her food, but before her cheeks completely leave my view, I see them starting to tinge just the slightest shade of pink.
I’ve definitely gotta remember to compliment her more often. It’s cute seeing the way she responds.
“So, if this is what you’ve got planned for dinner, what’s for dessert?”
Motioning back toward the picnic table off to the side, I catch sight of rectangular shaped cake, complete with what looks like eighteen candles.
Well, that explains the empty plate.
“Did you make it yourself or buy one?”
“I baked it.”
“Scary thought.”
“Yeah, because if I was going to poison you, I would wait until after dinner.” She scoffs. “If I wanted to make you sick, I would have just spiked the spaghetti.”
Looking down at the plate, a bite or two left the only indicator that there had been a dinner there at all, I swallow hard, which when she catches, she laughs at.
“I didn’t poison you, Mikey. It’s all good.”
Twirling what’s left of the noodles onto the fork and bringing it up and into my mouth, I savor it, releasing a moan of pleasure and grin once I’ve chewed it up and swallowed.
“I don’t even care. Even if you did poison me, with what I just ate, it would be so worth it.”
“You mean inhaled, don’t you?”
“Good point. Seriously though, when did you learn to cook like that?”
“A couple of years ago. My mom was working more hours and I had to fend for myself a lot. Since she never left money behind for me to order in, I just taught myself how to do basic stuff.”
“There was nothing basic about what I just ate, Ems.”
Again her cheeks flush and the sight of it melts me. I like the way she doesn’t try to hide her reactions from me anymore. We’ve come a long way and I hope it never ends.
“So after we gorge on birthday cake, what’s the plan?”
“To be honest, I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“I call bullshit. You always plan, even when it’s last minute.”
Sticking her tongue out, but her cheeks turning an even darker shade at being caught in the lie, she reaches into the picnic basket again, this time bringing out a single piece of paper, smiling softly as she reads over whatever’s on the page before holding it out between us for me to take.
Putting the empty plate down, I pluck the paper from her fingers and read it over.
I was right. She did plan this all the way through.
“Why are you giving me a receipt?”
It’s obvious she ordered something online and because she’d done it that day, this is the only thing she could give me to prove she’d done it, but just what it is, I can’t see. At least not until I hit the bottom of the page.
She bought a star and named it after me.
“I know it’s not as good as the real paperwork, but in a couple of weeks, it’ll be here and you’ll have it. I wanted to be able to give you the actual star, but like I said before, last minute.”
“You named a star after me?”
“Well, yeah. I mean it seemed right. Naming a star after someone I consider mine.”
Damn.
I’m not exactly familiar with blushing unless it’s embarrassment, but that isn’t at all what’s happening here. The heat is rising to the surface in my face, and my heart, the more she speaks has completely stilled.
I’m her star.
“Why a star?”
Leaning across the blanket and resting her now empty plate on top of mine, she explains and it’s not only my face warming by the time she’s done.
“I do a lot of thinking about the way it feels when I’m with you and then I started thinking about something I learned about in Sunday school when I was a kid. When baby Jesus was coming into the world, the wise men came to meet him with their gifts and they were guided by a star. One that shined bright above the inn where Mary and Joseph were. They were guided home. Home was where he was and that’s how I feel about you. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m home.”
This is it. I’m gonna just tell her what I’ve been dying to say for weeks now.
I love her, and I’m pretty damn sure I always will.
Emery
“I haven’t done this in a long time.”
That makes two of us.
Other than the one time my mom took me to the park at night and spent an hour or so pointing to the sky and trying to point out constellations, this is new.
It almost feels like it’s the first time.
After finishing dinner and putting all of the dirty plates and silverware in the basket, I’d gone and grabbed his cake, tossing the basket in its place, bringing it over and lighting the candles.
Well, I did once he was done swiping icing and smearing it on my nose.
With the cake pushed out of the way and bordering the edge of the blanket, after we both had two slices each, I’d asked Christian what he wanted to do next and he’d suggested what we’re doing now.
Laying back and cuddling close on the blanket, star gazing.
“How long?”
“Eleven years or so, I guess. I think I was six, but that part’s a little hazy.”
“Was it something you did with your mom?” I ask, equal parts apprehensive and eager to learn more about this boy I seem to be falling for.
“Yeah. Pretty much everything I did back then was with her. You know about my dad.”
“I was with my mom the one time I did this too.”
“Did you ever make a wish on any of them?”
“Nah. I used to do it with my birthday candles though.”
“Let me guess. You always wished for the same thing.”
He doesn’t have to say it. He’s gotten to know me so well over the last few months that the obvious wish I would make would be for my dad to come back. He’s also not wrong. For the first seven or eight years, that was my one wish. At least until I caught sight of this one special edition Barbie at the store that my mom kept saying she couldn’t afford.
My dad coming back definitely took a backseat to that.
“I did, and as you can see, I’m still waiting for it to come true.”
Shifting his body and pulling away, he slides himself up to a lounging position, reaching out to me before I can voice my displeasure at the move and pulling me over until my back is pressed comfortably against
his chest.
His arms like always finding their way around to hold me, as if moved by some imaginary force, warming me instantly as they settle.
“Why did you move?”
“Because I want to try something with you. And before you say no, I just want to say that it’s my birthday and I will pull the ‘you need to give me what I want’ card if I have to.”
“That would be cheap.” I laugh. “Thankfully, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m up for whatever.”
“I think that instead of waiting until your birthday in a few months, we should try now.”
“But you already blew out your candles.”
“I did,” he agrees easily. “And my wish has already been sent up into the night to be fulfilled, but, it doesn’t mean we both can’t sit here now, close our eyes and make another wish together.”
“Mikey, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“That’s because you’re thinking about the rules. The way you’ve been taught and shown. Think outside the box a little, Carmichael. Live a little.”
“Jerk.” I laugh as I shift my elbow back and straight into his ribcage, earning a grunt and a huge intake of breath as reward.
“Maybe a little, but humor me would you?”
“Fine, but I gotta say, this is weird and I don’t understand what the heck the point is.”
“I’m thinking that maybe the wish has a better shot of coming true if this year, it’s wished for by two people. Not just any two people, but the two that want it to come true the most.”
It’s pretty obvious that making a wish for my dad would be something I’d want more than anything, but what gets to me most out of everything he said, even if he did lace humor throughout, is that he wants me to have my dad as much as I do.
“Two is better than one, huh?”
“Exactly. Plus, I didn’t get what I wanted last year so I figure the universe owes me. Which gives you even better odds.”
“Then I guess we need to get our stories straight.”
“How so?”
“I don’t want my dad to come back anymore.”
“But—” he starts and cutting him off, I turn and place my finger against his lips to silence him.
“I know that was my wish before, but that was when I was little. I still want the same things, but in a different way now.”
“That makes sense. So what is it you want the most now?”
“I want to wish for my mom’s happiness.”
“Not following.”
“Remember how I said I wanted to meet my mom’s boyfriend and thank him for making her happy?” When he nods as I finish, I take a breath and continue. “Well, I want more than that now. This wish, what I want long term, it’s him. I want Nick to be my dad.”
“Well alright, wishing for Nick it is.” He says with a small chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
"It’s just a little funny that your mom’s boyfriends name is the same as my dad.”
“Eww!” I squeal, knowing where he’s going and elbowing him for the nightmarish reminder. “Not this again! What did I tell you about that?”
“To forget about it.”
“Exactly. Nick’s a pretty common name, especially around here. I mean, there’s two of them that live on this street alone. There’s just no way that her Nick and your dad are the same.”
“Fine, Fine.” He laughs. “Message received loud and clear.”
Moving away from the absurdity of our parents being together and focusing on the stars that have now made their appearance shining in the sky, I point up, focusing on the set that if looked at in just the right way, resemble a small heart.
A constellation that even though I’d learned a bunch in science class, I’d never heard of before.
This is a sign, and not just any one, but the kind that Christian likes best.
One about us.
“Do you see that?”
“You mean the jagged heart looking thing? Yeah. I wasn’t sure that was what I was seeing though.”
“What are the odds that we’re out here and the first thing we see is a group of stars in the shape of a heart?”
“Million or two to one, I figure, which means it’s a sign.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” I agree. “So I think that on the count of three, we should close our eyes and make the wish on our heart.”
“Your wish is my command.”
“One.” I call out.
“Two.” He follows up and waiting a beat or two in between, our voices come together on the final number, both of us speaking it aloud as I close my eyes and become blanketed in the darkness.
“Three.”
Please let Nick be the one for my mom, so that even though I’m older and probably won’t need him as much, he can be the dad I always wanted.
Opening my eyes after silently wishing to the sky, I twist my body around until I can get a full view of Christian’s face as he slowly reopens his.
“Emery Carmichael, I’ve received a message from the sky.”
“Oh yeah? And what pre-tell is the message?”
“You’ll be seeing Nick very soon.”
Turning back and leaning even more into him, I let his words settle over me. The meaning of them resonating deep within the confines of my heart and what I can only imagine is my soul, with as badly as I want them to be true.
I’ll see you soon, Dad.
*****
“Emery Rose Carmichael!”
If I didn’t already recognize the angry voice of my mom, the shaking that followed and the overpowering feeling of nausea that came with it would have alerted me pretty damn quick.
Shifting and making contact with Christian’s sleeping form, the two of us somehow so caught up in talking we’d fallen asleep under the stars, I shake the cobwebs loose and lean up, finding myself staring straight into a set of very pissed off brown eyes.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Moving her angry gaze off of me and fixating it on Christian, she huffs out a sigh before laying her hand across her forehead. “Wake him up.”
“It’s not what you think,” I immediately try and explain while repeating the same shaking action my mom had done with me to Christian, his body shifting and moaning as he pulls away in response to the obvious violation of the same rest I was minutes ago experiencing.
“I’m sure it’s not. Get him up and meet me inside. The three of us need to sit down and have a little chat about what I just walked in on.”
As far as I can tell once she turns and starts off across the lawn and through the back door, the only thing she’d walked in on was the two of us flat on our backs on the blanket. Though with my position when I turned at the sound of her yelling my name, I may have been cuddled up in his arms and across his chest.
Could she really be losing her mind over me cuddling with a guy?
Shaking Christian again, willing him with each push to wake up so I can give him the Cliff’s Notes version of what he’s missed while completely passed out, he finally starts to stir.
“Wakey, Wakey, Mikey. Drill Sergeant’s home and she wants to see us inside.”
This seems to get his attention. Sure, I could have just said it was my mom, but this way sounded funnier and we’re going to need humor because the look on her face before she walked away was anything but.
“Where am I?”
Now I know that we were probably out for a little bit, but not long enough for him to forget everything we’ve done tonight.
“My backyard. Your birthday party. Remember?”
Leaning up on his elbows and bringing his hand up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, when he finally locks his eyes on me again, it’s pretty obvious he gets it.
“Shit! We fell asleep.”
“Give the guy a prize.”
“How long were we out?”
“Not sure, but we’ve got bigger issues. I repeat. My mom
is here. She caught us sleeping together, and she’s really mad. She wants to see us inside. So do whatever you gotta do to wake up as quickly as possible because I’m not doing this alone.”
When Christian was recruited to the soccer team, I’d watched a few of his practices after school on the days where I didn’t have Jordan breathing down my neck. He’s fast. Right now though, with the threat of my very angry mom on the horizon, the way he is on the field almost seems slow.
He’s jumping off the blanket, rubbing at the knees of his pants before I’ve even gotten the chance to lift up off my knees. Extending his hand, he grips me tight as I take it and pulls me to my feet.
“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed is she?” he whispers as we begin our trek toward the back door and what we both know is lying in wait on the other side.
“An eleven, maybe a twelve.”
“She’s never seen you with a guy before?”
“No and I don’t think with as little as I’ve given her about you, she was expecting to have it happen now either.”
“Shit.”
“Double shit.”
“Do you think if I hopped your fence and took off across your neighbor’s yard, I’d be able to make a getaway before she hunts me down?”
“Nope. She’s probably expecting that to be what you do.”
“Shit.”
Grabbing onto the handle of the screen door and opening it, as Christian steps around me and twists the knob to the door making his way in, our hands immediately gravitate toward each other as we make our way through, pausing when we reach the doorway to the kitchen.
“Just in case I don’t make it out of this alive,” he turns to me with a sideways grin. “I want you to know that I really liked sleeping with you.”
“Me too.” I answer back with a reassuring smile of my own.
“Okay, Juliet, you ready to face the music?”
“Oh, Romeo. I thought you’d never ask.”
My last thought as we move out from our seclusion and into the lighted doorway of the kitchen is that with what we’re about to face now, we’re probably not all that far off the mark calling each other Romeo and Juliet.
Because once my mom gets us alone, I get the feeling that our relationship is about to take a turn for the worst.
The Space In Between Page 17