Sometimes It Happens Here

by K. S. Thomas

  “Okay, fine. I need to talk,” I admit, dropping to a squat before I lean back and let my ass hit the floor across from her. “And then I need you to be my voice of reason.”

  Her brows pop up at my request. “I’m not sure you’ve come to the right place to have your needs met then.”

  “Kaleaha!”

  “Alright, alright. I’m the sanest you’ve got. I guess I’ll have to dig deep and conjure up reason.” Her hand slinks back into the bag for more sustenance. “This is damn good by the way.”

  “Thank you.” I watch her pop another bite into her mouth and I feel a sudden onslaught of bread envy. “Can I have some?”

  “Seriously?”

  “I think it might help. You know, with the opening up, and the feelings, and the lack of reason.”

  She points the open end of her bag in my direction. “Carbs do do all that.”

  “They do.” I’m mindful to take just a small piece, the bread being a gift and all.

  “I know you know this is my free period, and so you think you have a lot of time,” Kaleaha says when I sit here silently mulling over my bread. “But you’ve already wasted a quarter of my period just building up to the fact that you had stuff you needed to talk about. So, you know, you might want to actually start talking now.”

  “I kissed him.”

  She almost chokes. “I see we’re going right to the big stuff.” Her eyes are watering, and she coughs several times before she goes on, “If you’re about to tell me you all got naked while baking, I’m going to give you your bread back.”

  “No!” I shove her shoulder, outraged by the suggestion, and she teeters back and forth on her ass, grinning.

  “Just trying to get any future choking hazards out of the way before I take my next bite.”

  “Nothing crazy happened.” Then I rethink my statement and slightly tweak it, “Nothing crazier than the kissing happened.”

  “So, there were multiple kisses. And these came about how? He kissed you, I assume?”

  “I might have kissed him,” I insist. “Why do you just automatically think he’s the one who made the first move?”

  She looks around the room, like maybe I’m talking to someone else now. Then, with just the two of us here, she returns her attention to me. “Maybe because he’s been making all the moves since you two met, and you’ve systematically shot down all of his efforts. No one, anywhere, ever, is going to think you made the first move by kissing him.”

  “Fine. He kissed me. But!” I lift my finger, raising it victoriously over my head. “I let him. And, I kissed him back.”

  “Wow. Lilan let a gorgeous, nearly perfect man kiss her. And, she kissed him back. Who would believe it?”

  “You know, I’m not sure I appreciate your sarcasm,” I inform her.

  “You specifically asked for my voice of reason,” she reminds me. “And you know damn well, it’s a sarcastic one.”

  “While that is true.” And it is. Very true. “I’m not ready for the voice of reason yet. Right now, I’m in the market for a voice of understanding. So, dig deep. And be a little nicer to me,” I whine.

  She holds the bag out toward me in response. “More bread?”

  “Yes, please.” I take a piece, this time I’m more assertive in my ripping. “As I was saying. There was kissing. But, I don’t think the kissing is actually the thing that’s freaking me out.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I was hoping you still knew how to do that.” Instantly, her hands fly up in surrender. “My bad, my bad. That was reason, I apologize. Switching over to understanding right now.”

  I take a deep breath and watch her. There’s a shift that happens in her face when she drops all her witty wisdom and tough love. It’s not a side of her we see often, but I know it’s there and that she’ll dig it up for me in my moments of need. Like this one.

  “Alright,” she says, no hint of her facetious tone left to be heard. “What’s the thing? What happened that made you believe you could trust your heart with another boy?”

  I look down at my hands, now empty and busy trying to twist and turn my fingers in ways no one should ever attempt. My knuckles hurt and I want to stop, but I just can’t. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before,” I whisper. “He’s kind and funny and patient and generous and...” My voice fails me, and I have to clear my throat to go on. “He pays attention to me. And not in the ways you’d think. He rarely compliments my looks and I don’t think he’s ever commented on what I’m wearing.”

  Kaleaha makes a face, glaring at my current ensemble – worn out jeans two sizes too big, covered in flour and baking related stains, and a sage colored sweater my grandmother knitted for me when I was fourteen which I’ve been wearing ever since.

  “Fine,” I chuckle, even in the midst of my emotional pitfall, “no one in their right mind would favorably comment on my clothes. But, what he does acknowledge is the stuff that actually means something to me. How he sees me as a mom. The way he gushes over anything I produce from my kitchen. Or how he’s impressed with the work I do with the sets. And he thinks I’m funny and he makes me tea. The way I like it.”

  Kaleaha takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “All good reasons to kiss a boy.”

  Bodhi

  I’M JUST WALKING DOWN the near empty halls of the high school after having been booted from Hannah’s class for having kicked her ass during an Improv demonstration that was meant to school her students, not her, when I spot the best thing I’ve seen since this morning, back when I had to give it up in Hannah’s driveway.

  “Hey,” I call out, just as she’s about to turn the corner and slip out of my sight again.

  She stops and takes a step back, turning on her heel almost simultaneously. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Are you stalking me?”

  “Um, no. If anything, it’s the other way around. I’m the famous one around here who gets stalked, remember?” I speed up as much as I can without actually breaking into a job, meanwhile, she just casually saunters my way.

  “Is that a real thing? Do you have stalkers? Like, presently?” she asks, slowing now that we’re only a few feet apart. Though it still seems like an unbearable distance to me, so I’m still moving at top speed.

  “Presently? Just Teran.” I reach her. I’m touching her, my hand moving through her hair and curling around the back of her head, bringing her to me.

  “I think you might have just been the decoy there,” she murmurs right before her lips meet mine.

  Kissing her is without doubt my new favorite thing.

  “Seriously,” she says, words vibrating against my mouth because she’s talking and kissing at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

  It goes against my every instinct and desire, but I untangle myself from her enough to have a conversation. Mostly, because the prospect of leaving here with her is looming and it’s the only thing I find more enticing than making out with her, here at school, like we’re a couple of teenagers ourselves. “Hannah let me come to work with her. Which was going great, until she kicked me out of class.” I grip her elbows with each hand and tug her closer again. “Which was even better, because I wound up roaming the halls just in time to do this.” I lean in and graze her lips with mine again. She smiles and I love the feel of it under my mouth, to know it’s happening without even seeing it.

  “Wow, I have good timing.” She smirks, tipping her head back to look at me. “Too bad I can’t stay and keep you company all period.”

  “Maybe I could keep you company. Where are you headed next?”

  Her gaze travels down the hall toward Hannah’s classroom. “What about Hannah? Won’t she miss you at some point?”

  I shrug. “I’ll send her a text. Let her know where I went.” My hand slides down her arm until it finds her palm where I twine my fingers with hers. “You know, right after you tell me where we’re going.”

  She looks down at our hands, perfectly pieced together
like two pieces of a puzzle, and a sweet curve lifts the corners of her mouth before she raises her gaze to meet me eye to eye again. “It’s pretty sexy,” she says, voice dropping an octave or two. “I’m headed to the Baker’s Depot over in Ferguson to pick up supplies and possibly peruse their selection of specialty flours for new ideas.”

  “How can a guy say no to that?” How could I say no to her, period? I couldn’t. “Let’s do it.”

  We start walking, our bound hands swinging slightly to and fro between us, like a pendulum, proving just how in sync we are when we’re together.

  “I should probably warn you though,” she says as we get closer to the doors. “I have to pick Mona up from school directly from Baker’s Depot. I won’t have time in between to drop you off anywhere.”

  “Good.” I reach the handle before her and open the door, propping it in place so she can exit first. “Because I don’t want to be dropped off. Whatever it is you’ve got going on today, I want to be a part of it.”

  The door swings shut behind us just an icy breeze sweeps past, reminding me just how ungodly cold it is here this time of year.

  “You realize, the sexy factor only drops after the Baker’s Depot, right?” She’s laughing it off, but I think she’s genuinely concerned I may wind up disappointed by the end of the day. “Like, we’re talking twenty minutes of stop and go in the parent pick up lane at school, followed by going home. For snacks and homework. There may be a brainstorming session on possible holiday breads I haven’t tried yet. And, if you’re really lucky, I’ll have time to do some research for this New York City set you want for the Christmas show before I have to make dinner and convince my kid to take a shower before bed.”

  We reach her truck and I notice she doesn’t unlock the doors. She’s just staring at me, waiting to confirm that I understand what I’m getting myself into.

  “Lilan.” I take the hand I’m still holding in mine and place it over my chest, on top of my heart, palm down. My heart is racing just standing in front of her, touching her, and letting my eyes dance with hers. “I could spend the day standing here in this parking lot with you, doing nothing more than we’re doing right at this second, and I’d be stimulated on every level.”

  She rolls her eyes and starts to turn away, but I catch her chin and stop her, guiding her back to me. “I’m serious. I don’t need anything exciting to do. I just want to be with you. Whatever that looks like or entails. Let’s just do regular stuff. Together.”

  “Okay.” She sighs, clicking the key fob to unlock the doors. “Just remember you asked for it.”

  I hold the driver’s side for her to get in. “You really need to get over this thing you have about us being so different. You think I never hit up a Baker’s Depot when I’m without you?”

  She laughs. “Fine. I’ll stop bring weird about it. But only because I had no idea we shared the same love for fancy flours,” she mocks. But I’m rolling with it, because she’s likely to roll out more obstacles as we go and I’m not going to get worn out on technicalities along the way.

  The drive to Ferguson is filled with loud radio karaoke and arguing with the DJ about whether or not it’s acceptable to have a fake Christmas tree – it’s not – and uproarious laughter at our own ridiculousness. By the time we arrive, we’re both hoarse and semi-delirious from lack of oxygen compliments of our singing and all the laughing we did. Also –

  “You’ve got hiccups,” she says, pointing at me just in time to catch me do it again.

  “It’s all your fault.” I try to gulp down the next round to no avail. “No one should sing as many wrong words to a song as you do. I don’t even know how you manage to learn an entire set of made up lyrics without noticing.”

  “Hey, I just sing it as I hear it.”

  “Then you absolutely need to get your hearing checked.”

  “What?!” She tries to pull away, outrage dropping her jaw and making her eyes pop, even as they twinkle with amusement. She gets as far as the length of her own arm before I yank her back to my side playfully, this time curling my arm around her waist, to ensure she stays close while we walk.

  “Fine,” she huffs.

  ‘Fine what? Your hearing sucks?” I tease.

  “No.” She peers up at me, suddenly serious. “Fine, I’ll work on not pulling away at every turn.”

  “It’s fine, Lilan.” I move a strand of her crazy hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear so I can better see her eyes while I say this. “I know you’re a flight risk. Your instinct might always be to bolt. When things are bad. And probably even more so when things are really good. I don’t mind. Because I’m not going to bolt. I’m not going to go anywhere. I can be the one who anchors us.” I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose. “So, run. I’m don’t need to catch you because I’m already caught.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LILAN

  After leaving Baker’s Depot, I’m fairly certain shopping for supplies without Bodhi will never be acceptable ever again. I love what I do, and I love sampling and exploring new products to help me create new yummy things, and yet, today I loved all those things on levels I never knew possible. Having him there, so interested, so genuinely curious and so involved, was by far the most fun I’ve ever had shopping for supplies.

  Needless to say, Mona nearly bounces out of her own skin with excitement when she finds him sitting in the passenger seat at pick up time. And how could I tell either of them no when both started begging for a detour to the Nutmeg Café for after school snacks in the form of pastries paired with tea and coffee.

  It’s getting dark by the time we leave. The air is crisp and ripe with the potential for snow when we walk back to the truck, prompting us to detour and take a stroll down main street to see all the Christmas decorations, all of us placing bets on whether we’ll see snow before our walk is over, on the drive home or not until night.

  Everything simple seems significant somehow, right down to the moment I’m walking in my own front door, Mona dashing in first to greet Jax who’s bouncing around expressing his usual thrill over seeing us walk through the door, straight to the heart of what makes this very usual thing so unusual, Bodhi following us all in, closing the door behind us. It’s as if we’ve entered our own little, magic paradise and shut out the entire world for the night. Nothing can touch the perfection of it.

  Things only get sweeter when Bodhi helps Mona with her homework, giving me time to do some research on his set ambitions for the play. After that, dinner passes in a blur of bliss from the cooking together all the way through washing the dishes while Bodhi dries them.

  Mama takes it upon herself to get Mona showered and ready for bed, giving Bodhi and I some time alone. Bundled up, we sit together on our front porch swing and gaze out into the night sky, catching pockets of twinkling stars as the clouds move through. We sit in silence, both of us savoring the peace and beauty of this moment as we sway back and forth.

  Then, the loveliest of noises light up our quiet solitude when Mona comes bounding outside, wrapped up in three blankets, a beanie and her boots, and practically throws herself onto the swing between us.

  “I think I’m going to win our bet,” she squeals, tiny finger poking out from her covers to point out into the night. “Look.”

  As soon as she says it, I see it. Snowflakes. Delicate flowers of icy white falling from the sky down to meet us. It’s every bit the Christmas magic you’d imagine it to be. “How do you always do that?” I ask, tickling her side. “You’ve got like some sort snow sense or something.”

  She grins, giggling. “It’s my superpower.”

  “That’s a pretty cool superpower.” Bodhi’s still staring out into the darkness, watching the sparkling flakes float down, face filled with awe at the sight of it.

  “I know.” She tucks herself in even snugger between us, leaning into both our arms as they lay crossed behind her, each of us still touching the other even as we’re embracing her. “I can do it with rain, to
o.”

  “It’s true,” I confirm, when Bodhi turns back, one eyebrow arched skeptically. “I always pack an umbrella when she tells me to. She’s more reliable than the weather people.”

  “Have you considered using your powers for good?” he asks, half serious, half silly. “Do you know how many people would be thrilled to receive weather insight they can actually rely on?” He turns out to view the snow again, before he goes on, “You could probably put the weather channel right out of business with your skills.”

  “Probably not,” she says, with a carefree shrug. “I’m not so great at the other stuff. Like sun. And wind. And I never know when it’s going to hail. That always surprises me.”

  Bodhi and I both burst out laughing at that one and for a while, the shenanigans continue. Mostly, it’s Bodhi and Mona bringing the laughs, but I land a funny one-liner every once in a while.

  It’s way past her bedtime, when things start to calm down, and before long, we’re back to swaying in silence, Mona fast asleep between the two of us. And this new silence, this unspoken expression of love, it tops them all.

  Come morning, I’m practically buzzing I’m so damn happy. Not only is Bodhi meeting me at the Marketplace when I’m done, but we have plans to spend all day together. Possibly, doing nothing out of the ordinary at all. Well, if you don’t count meeting with the kids from the art department for the Christmas show set as out of the ordinary. Which, actually, I don’t.

  “Don’t freak out,” Kaleaha says the second I answer my phone.

  “That’s literally the fastest way to make someone freak the fuck out, Leah. What is going on?” I demand, holding my phone in one hand while I use the other to finish packing up my booth. Market closed a little over ten minutes ago and Bodhi should be here any minute. Actually, he should already be here, but he’s not used to driving around here, so I’m not too surprised by his tardiness.

  “Are you sitting down?” she asks, and I can tell from the shuffling sound in the background, she’s walking somewhere, or maybe just pacing back and forth in her classroom.