One Sweet Day

by Elle Tyler

  “Bellissima.” I held out my arms for her.

  She walked over and waited for me to set my plate aside before she sat on my lap. “Hope I’m not interrupting you two.”

  I wound my arms around her waist. “If setting that plate of ziti aside isn’t a testament to how much I love you, I don’t think you’ll ever believe me, Everly Anne.”

  She turned into me and said quietly, “I don’t like wearing this dress. I feel uncomfortable.”

  I glanced up, but Tatum was gone. A commotion from the front of the house told me Nick had arrived. I turned back to Everly. “Why did you change, then?”

  “It felt better when I had it on upstairs. But now I just feel stared at.”

  “Well,” I smiled, “have you seen yourself? You’re more beautiful than the Christmas tree. Of course everyone is looking at you.”

  She looked back to the plate of ziti and placed it in her lap, spearing a bite for me. After I ate two forkfuls, I took it from her and cut off a small piece of noodle.

  “I really don’t like eating alone.” I sighed. She took a small bite, and we carried on like that until the food was gone. I ate most of it, of course, but she tried, and that was something hopeful in my book.

  “We should go see Nick.”

  Everly followed me through the crowd until we reached the front of the house. As soon as Nick spotted me, he grabbed me by the shirt.

  “I’m gonna kick your ass, brother.” But he was all laughter and jovial. “Kissed my wife? I should show you how Russians stick a towel down an enemy’s throat to remove their stomach lining while they’re still breathin’, you bastard.”

  “She totally wanted it,” I replied. “Ever since second grade she’s been thirsty for me.”

  Tatum was honestly more terrifying than her husband. I threw my hands up in surrender as she smacked the shit out of my head. “It’s only a joke, Tater. Calm down. I hated kissing you. You disgust me. I’d rather kiss the sergeant, to be honest.”

  He looked at me. “I knew the truth would come out eventually.”

  We all sort of looked at Everly at the same time, maybe because she was the quietest part of the room.

  He pointed at her. “Callum’s girl.”

  She pointed back at him. “Childhood Partner in Crime.”

  “Well, what are your thoughts?” he asked, trying to keep his expression serious. “Should we remove his stomach while he’s still breathing?”

  She glanced between us. “I think living in fear will suffice, Sergeant Petros.”

  Nick picked her up into a tight hug. “I knew I liked this girl,” he called over his shoulder to me. “Matter of fact, I think I like her so much, I might just have to kiss her.” He swung Everly around and dipped her as if he was going to kiss her—and even though I knew he was just fooling around, it boiled under my skin. Not the kiss, not the joke, but how carelessly he was handling her. He didn’t know any better, but I didn’t have control over what was happening, and it scattered my rationality. I pulled on his arm until they were upright and then shoved him away.

  “Don’t ever fuckin’ grab her like that.”

  He glowed with alarm. “It was just a joke. I wasn’t really gonna kiss her.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the joke. Just don’t ever touch her like that.” I pulled Everly against me, and she felt rigid tucked under my arm. I regretted my actions instantly.

  Nick held up his hand. “I didn’t mean to piss you off.” He looked at Everly. “I’m sorry.”

  She only nodded as she stared at the floor.

  Tatum broke the tension. “Don’t blame Callum. You’d be pissed off wearing that shirt, too.”

  After a moment, Nick laughed. “Seriously though, what the hell are you wearing, brother?”

  “You should have seen him with the mullet,” Tatum replied.

  “But...” His face contorted. “Why?”

  Tatum leaned her head against his chest. “Our Callum here done found him a tan-legged Juliet. Theys movin’ to Georgia to have babies and git hitched. In that order, I reckon.”

  Nick shook his head in confusion. “I have been gone way too damn long.”

  ***

  Nicholas Petros was well trained in coded communication. Gunnery sergeant for the United States military had equipped him with such a gift. From across the crowded Thanksgiving table, he gave me the signal that he had remembered to bring The Goods. After a coded nod, he stood and said he had to get a new fork. (His “accidentally” fell on the floor and, “Why no, Mrs. Trovatto, I'll get it myself, ma'am. Thank you.”) Next, he called Tatum into the kitchen to help him find a fork because, “Darn man can shoot a moving target from two-thousand yards and hit a bullseye, but I'll be damned if he can find a fork on his own. Coming!”

  I nudged Everly's knee under the table. She looked up from her barely-touched plate of food. “Would you like more wine? I should pour you another glass.” I didn't wait for an answer, just curled my fingers around her hand and scooted away from the table before anyone could protest.

  On the back porch of my house, we four individuals met after our properly-executed escape.

  “That was pretty damn good, for civilians.” Nick laughed and tossed a brown bag at me. “Someone will probably call the cops as soon as the first boom sounds, so we better light them together.” Everly wasn't sure what we were up to but still looked excited to be included, and not left inside like the Debbie Downer Noelle had turned into.

  I dug a handful of fireworks from the bag and followed Nick to the middle of the yard. He cursed as he knelt in the snow. “The trees are hanging lower than last year. Let's pray to Jesus that we don't burn down your dad’s house, Cal.”

  Tatum snorted, looking at Everly. “Take a man out of uniform and suddenly he's twelve again, afraid of a little trouble.” She nudged her foot into her husband's side, and he pulled her down with a tactical move that made Everly smile bright.

  “Sorry,” Nick said, playing along. “Must have been one of those PTSD things they keep going on about.”

  Tatum hummed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Take me down anytime you like, Sergeant Petros.”

  I interrupted. “Excuse me, but I have seen this girl in Barbie Doll pajamas. No sex stuff in my presence. Thank you.”

  Tatum smiled at me, still trapped under Nick. “You have the love of your life pulled away from you at year-long lengths and then you can have a say in how we interact.”

  They climbed to their feet and got back to business. I handed Everly a Roman candle and then stuck the rest of the fireworks in the ground beside Nick's. Tatum grumbled as Nick handed her a sparkler. “What is this sissy shit? Honestly, babe?”

  “Sergeant or not, one can only smuggle so much illegal shit into New York. Switch with Callum's girl. She looks nervous, anyhow.”

  Everly was willing to trade up, but I stopped the hand-off. “No fuckin’ way. Everly's father is Timothy Brighton. That means this girl has lived her life under the oppression of a tyrant. There is no way we are going to honor the sanctity of illegal fireworks in the freest country in the entire goddamn universe by making her hold a sparkler. Tater, light the missiles with the love of your life if you need an adrenaline rush, but Everly is keeping that Roman.”

  Tatum glanced between me and Nick. He pursed his lips before he said, “We are doing this to set the world right... Sooooo... Ican'treallyarguewithCallumonthatbabe.”

  I grinned, shaking my head at him. “Chicken shit.”

  “Someday,” he said, “you’ll understand how stupid (he coughed, “dangerous”) it is to disagree with your wife, Cal.”

  Everly asked, “What do fireworks have to do with Thanksgiving?”

  Nick struck a long match on the sole of his boot. “I'm thankful for those who have fought alongside me for the freedoms our country holds. To not press back against the tyrants who sit behind bureaucratic desks in Washington, passing ignoramus laws such as BAN FIREWORKS BECAUSE THEY ARE DANGEROUS, i
s a slap in the face to not only any man who has served his country with his blood, but to any American who believes in life, liberty, and the pursuit of the happiness.”

  And I knew her expression—I had seen it in class during the differential questions. She pushed his buttons on purpose as she dismissed his speech. “But they're just fireworks.”

  Nick’s high spirit plummeted. He ignored my warning from earlier and tugged her arm toward him to light the end of the Roman. “Is that so?” Everly's hand shook as the sparks began to fly, but she did not let go. I was stuck in place. I did not want to become like Brighton—a prison, where she couldn’t live and experience things. I knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but every little ember that landed on her skin pricked needle-holes through my chest.

  Nick stared her in the eye in the darkness of the cold night. “Oppression begins with the little things, and if you let the small shit slide, those who seek to destroy the foundation of what we are made from will gleefully watch as the entire building crumbles. You can decide whether you fight for what stands, or you can give in and allow your oppressor to decide what gets built in its place. The problem with people in this country is that most have no idea what true tyranny feels like. They watch the news and think they have a clue about what goes on in the world outside of their cell phones and Face2Face pages. But sweetheart, when the enemy owns the news, they get to choose what stories to run. A firework? No. That’s your eyes playing tricks on you. This is a stand. This is a message that will go out to every crooked cop and dirty politician on duty tonight and let them know defiance against tyranny is still a song worth singing in America. We’ll write our lyrics in the fucking sky just to make it perfectly clear.”

  The air thickened as Nick and Everly continued to stare at each other. Tatum glanced to me as if to say, “Do something.”

  I tried to take a lesson from Tatum and play it off as I pushed Everly's hair behind her shoulder. “Plus, Everly Anne, we have an affinity for lighting shit on fire.”

  Nick's mouth lifted in the corners. He glanced to me and then back to Everly, who held the Roman steady. “Plus,” he repeated, “we have an affinity for lighting shit on fire.”

  Nick held the match high in the air as he walked to the fireworks planted in the ground. “For Leonidas!”

  I laughed. “He was Greek, you Greek bastard. I thought this was for America.”

  “Freedom is freedom,” he shot back, but added, “For breaking the law in the name of doing what's right.”

  Nick swept the match across the firework wicks and backed away to hold Tatum in his arms and kiss her under a barren oak tree. Everly stared at the Roman candle in her hand and watched the sparks fly. One missile lit up the sky while another struck the branch of the tree Nick and Tatum kissed under, which sent them running. It was electric and real. And I wondered, as I watched Everly smile from her eyes to her cheeks, if she felt for once she was inside of the picture and not just staring from behind a lens.

  ***

  While the rest of the guests ate dessert in the dining room, four criminals searched for dry clothes in my bedroom.

  “I thought military men were always prepared for any situation,” I quipped. “Here, I think these sweaters will fit. Sorry if they stink like moth balls, but Marta has this thing about boxing up clothes when they aren't in use.” I tossed them to Tatum and Nick. Everly was the only one not shaking from her snow-soaked clothes, which did not escape Nick's attention.

  “Aren't you gonna offer your girlfriend something?” Nick pulled an old sticker off my sweater that read Faster, Deeper, Harder, CPR saves lives! and stuck it on Everly's dress.

  “I have to look in the attic for something else. She’s too skinny for my stuff,” I lied.

  “Hey,” Tatum warned. “What am I, a blimp?”

  Always best to dodge women with weight questions, even if the answer is in their favor.

  I replied, “You two should go back downstairs. I'm sure the cops will be knocking momentarily, and it would be best if Sergeant Petros did all of the explaining, so we won't spend Thanksgiving in jail.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But can I talk to you first?”

  Tatum said she’d meet us downstairs, and Everly sat on my bed. I gave her a kiss on the head as I followed him into the hall.

  He turned to me. “Look, I just wanted to make sure we’re cool.”

  “We’re cool,” I assured. “I just... I don’t like anyone touching her. Contradictory, considering I kissed your wife. I realize this.”

  “What happened?”

  I almost laughed. “Didn’t Tatum tell you?”

  “No, I meant what happened to your girl. Someone hurt her or something?”

  “Let’s just say she’s more fragile than most. It’s complicated.”

  “Must be. There’s an awful lot of bruises and stuff on her legs. For a moment, I was wondering if I really did have to use the Russian Towel on you.” He looked over my clothes. “Wearing that shit didn’t help.”

  “No one hit Everly. She can’t feel pain. She was born that way.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  He nodded. “Well, don’t let the government find out—you’ll never see her again.”

  I laughed. “When did you become such a conspirator?”

  He raised a finger. “It’s only a conspiracy theory if it’s built on myth.”

  “Okay. I’ll try not to let our reptilian, hologram-eyed government officials know my girlfriend can’t feel pain.”

  “How the fuck do you know about the reptile theories?”

  “I spend a lot of overnights working in the hospital with only wannabe YouTube journalist as my company between emergencies.”

  He sucked his teeth. “That is the saddest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard.” We laughed for a moment, but then he turned serious. “How’s my girl?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t seen her much. Third year went right into fourth, and I’ve spent whatever time I had off with Everly. We had coffee the other night. She seemed okay, I guess.”

  “Good, good. Well listen, I’ll be home more, so don’t worry about it.”

  “They finally figured out your plan to trump the tyrannical state our country is suffering?”

  He half-smiled, half-frowned. “I’ve been relieved of my duty, yeah.”

  “Why? All jokes aside. Why?”

  “You know what they say—there’s a lot of truth in humor.” His boots shuffled against the wood floor. “Freedom of speech isn’t what it used to be. Everything is so damn political now. Ahh... fuck it.” He played it off. “I can protect my family better on our soil.”

  “Tatum know?”

  “I’m gonna talk to her tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be glad, even though she’ll go on a rant about how unfair it all is.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  He smiled then. “Hey, at least if the reptilian government comes for your Everly, we’ll be ready to roll, son.”

  “I’ve actually got a plan in place already for freeing Everly from tyranny... But I certainly wouldn’t mind back up.”

  ***

  I gave the rope a pull and then the ladder. “Ladies first.”

  Everly slipped her shoes off and then climbed the stairs, with me behind her. She wasn’t expecting what she found. Her eyes blinked in surprise as she looked around the attic that was anything but just a simple attic. If it had a better staircase, it could have been considered a third floor. All of the costumes from Julep’s collection still hung along the rail on the furthest wall back. Her dressing station was just as I remembered: those big bulbs around the mirror, married to a long ivory vanity. A plush gold chaise sat atop soft white carpet. And then there were the things I’d added for Everly. Blankets, pillows, television, DVD player, laptop, mini fridge.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  “First, you need to change into warm, dry clothes.” I handed her a pair of cotton pajamas from a dresser I had arranged. “Ever
ything in there is yours, but you’ll need to change back into your usual stuff before Timothy sees you.” I pointed to the divider my mom used to use as a dressing room. “You can change behind there.”

  As she put the pajamas on, she asked, “What are we doing up here, Callum?”

  I waited for her to finish before I replied. Everly sat with me on the ledge by a small, single window. “You’re gonna stay here tonight.”

  “If you don’t show up for work, this is the first place Timothy is going to look for me.”

  “I’m going to work,” I agreed. “But you’re staying here tonight. And..., if you’re serious about reclaiming your freedom..., every night until graduation.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you thought we were just pranking Tatum tonight with the Georgia bit, but the truth, Everly, is that I think we should really move there.”

  “How? I can’t go anywhere. You know that.”

  And I told her, “I have a savings account with nearly a million dollars... It might sound like a good amount, but in New York it wouldn’t get us very far. But in Georgia, we could buy a house. Plus…”

  I stroked her hair, and, with a deep breath, I finished. “Everyone keeps telling me that I’m on course to ruin my life if we stay together. It was easy to shrug off at first, Everly Anne, but the truth is they’re right. When I graduate, there’s no way I’ll be given permanent residency to wherever I apply in New York as long as I’m a threat to Timothy, and my only threat is being with you. Either way, I’m going to be forced to apply outside of New York for a job. My father still has a good relationship with the head of Atlanta Memorial. I could get a job there after I graduate... But Everly..., I have to graduate.”

  Her face faded. “And I’m in the way of that.”

  I cupped her chin. “I’m not breaking up with you. I just need to change who has the upper hand. The only way I can do that is if I earn my doctorate. There’s no judge on this planet who will side with some med student who has good intentions as a plan. We both need to put the pieces in place to make this work. I need to be able to take care of you in every way. And you’ll need to know what it’s like to be on your own, because Everly, that’s what we’re going to ask a judge to grant us.”