Sunrise Fires (8 page)

And there she stood now in the baggage claim, unaware that I was approaching. As soon as I saw her, I felt calm. I wanted a cup of coffee and a drive around the block. I approached at a normal pace, enjoying watching her without her realizing I was there. Her long thick black hair was tied back in a single pony running down her back, her lips colored a natural rose hue, and her coral rouge bringing out her Puerto Rican olive skin. Her complexion was perfect, her skin always silky, and she smelled of the tropics.

“Boo!” I said, sneaking up behind her.

She turned around with eyes like razors, and then softened immediately. “You know I might’ve cut you if there wasn’t something familiar in that voice,” she warned.

I shrugged and then hugged her. “You know I got ninja moves. Never would’ve been a scratch on me.”

“You must’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.” She sucked her lips and feigned irritation.

“Gonna be a long weekend with you, I see. You do know I have only a couple of days, right?”

She hugged me. “No. It’s not that. It’s just been a long morning.” Her tone lightened. “How was your flight?”

We talked about the cheap airlines I had used for this flight—how cramped the cabin was, how unorganized the gate processing had been, and so forth. Eventually, my bag came, and we headed out into the beautiful California summer air.

We spent the weekend talking, shopping, and planning her trip up to Vegas the following month. We’d been friends for so long at this point that each time we saw each other needn’t be filled with special occasions—presence was enough. She was the one I trusted implicitly, the one who knew me, the only person to whom no door was locked. It was no surprise then when she started the conversation about the impact that Germany might have on my feelings about Ryan.

“So, hun, how are you feeling about Ryan and you?”

“Talia, I love him so much, and things are so amazing between us.”

“And Germany? Did you ever get that sorted out—your feelings about him staying while you leave?” I looked at my hands. I couldn’t pretend with Talia. I couldn’t act like it was going to be okay, that I had faith, and that the sky was filled with stars and rainbows. I knew she would want the truth, and I really needed to vent it out anyway.

I took a deep breath. “We talked it out, and I supposedly feel better about it. And we’ll call and IM and Skype and e-mail, and things will be great, and…” I paused for effect, and then began singing in the softest whisper, “Pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows…?”

She laughed and joined me in singing the meme, and then she put an arm around me. “Oh, honey, is it really feeling that bad?”

“A lump in my throat, Talia. A pill I can’t swallow. I really don’t think we’ll last a year. I bet we won’t last ‘til Christmas.”

“You might,” she began weakly. “I mean, Jen, this guy loves you pretty seriously. So, unless you force the issue, I doubt it’s going to simply end because he got bored waiting. He doesn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”

“He isn’t. But long distance doesn’t work.”

She pursed her lips and made a sound like she was trying to cough up a hairball. “Really? That simple, huh? ‘Long distance doesn’t work?’ That’s what you’re going with?”

“It’s true.”

She rubbed my back. “I hate to be the bearer of logic here. I realize that you wanna live in some other world where logic doesn’t exist, but one of my jobs is to keep your perspective aligned to some variation of realistic. Sure, yep, you guys might break up, but probably not because long distance doesn’t work. Let’s just get that part outta the way. How long were you guys together before you ever met?”

“We weren’t.”

“Weren’t you talking for like two years or something?”

“Talking isn’t
together
.” I air quoted ‘together’ and said it snidely.

“I think I’m in this conversation alone.” She looked around. “Where’d Jen go? Can you bring her back? Because this little three-year-old thing isn’t working for me.”

“Not funny.”

“Neither is this weak-ass woman sitting here, trying to split hairs over when this relationship began. You guys have been talking for five years now and physically living in the same house for three.”

“We’ve been together for three and living in the same house for two and a half, unless you count the time he moved out because I won’t marry him. In which case, we can subtract—”

“Shhhh.” I stopped talking and gave Talia a dirty look. “You’re making my head hurt. Stop it.”

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Girl, here’re the facts as I see them. One, this guy is a good catch, quit trying to act like he’s some run of the mill guy. Two,” she grabbed her fingers, counting off her points for visual effect, “Germany is a really good opportunity, and you will do amazing there and find more professional success than you know what to do with, and three, you’ll come home to find this guy still wanting to marry you when you get back here…unless you get stupid and push him with some insecure silliness like I’m being forced to endure.”

I sat there feeling like a chastised child. “Talia, I’m just scared. I’m afraid that if I’m not here to be with him, to hold him, to make love to him, to cook for him, or to do all the things that I do when we’re together, he’ll start thinking about why I’m not there, about the fact that I chose Germany. And then maybe some woman will appear and make herself available. And anyways, I’ll be in Germany. I’m just so afraid to lose him over this. I know my fears don’t make mental sense, but since when are people’s brains and hearts on a first name basis? I mean, really, my
heart
says we won’t make it to Christmas.”

“I know how you feel, and I can picture the faces of the men who made it so. Ryan’s face isn’t there. And, hun, I really hope that you won’t personally, prematurely, add Ryan to the list of guys who broke your heart. I just don’t get that from him. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so. He feels like a lifetime thing. From where I sit, you two will be together long after Jesse and I break up.”

My eyes widened. “What?! Is something going on with Jesse?”

She picked at the edge of her cuticle. “I’m looking for apartments.”

“Oh, my God, hun! With all my life changes and such, we haven’t even talked about you. I am so sorry. When he wasn’t here, I just assumed he was out of town on business, as usual. Tell me what happened.”

“Turns out ‘business’ also goes by the name Becky…” she began. And so, conversation ebbed and flowed for the rest of the weekend as was typical for us, and Sunday night came far too soon. As I boarded the flight, she reminded me that this was ‘to be continued’ when she got to Vegas in one short month.

*   *   *

In the weeks that followed my trip to California, Ryan and I spent time together doing all the things we loved and hadn’t recently made time for. We spent time lounging on the couch, watching movies, or reading books. We cooked together, took walks along the strip, and visited some of our favorite places in town. And we made love; we had sex often and everywhere. It was an extended good-bye of sorts, and I appreciated every minute.

Ryan also spent time with the guys, riding and hanging out. I went to watch as many times as I could, sitting on the sidelines with Chris and talking about his accident, the guys, his recovery, our lives. He really was a great kid. I still brought food, though more often, it was fast food as I was short on time for cooking.

The track was less than a half hour from the house, out on the edge of town. There were thin aluminum bleachers near the parking lot. They faced the track, but the truth was that you really couldn’t see much of what was going on out there until the riders came back around again. The place smelled of two-stroke oil/gas mix that burned in the smaller dirt bikes, and of dirt and dust kicked up by the riders. It was a place to inhale your desert environment and let it settle in your nose.

And yet I loved it here. I loved to watch the guys ride. And as I watched Ryan in these last few weeks, I wished that I had done it more often these past three years. Ryan was a natural on his bike and seemed in his most joyous and complete self when he was riding. Seeing him like that made me love him all the more.

Chapter Eight

S
uddenly, I only had a week to go before my departure. I no longer had to go to work; the new guy had successfully taken the reins. He was ‘good enough’ but not quite living up to my sales records just yet. A secretly prideful side of me felt satisfaction in that. And Germany was ready for me as well. I had packed my entire dresser and most of my closet, though I did leave behind my sexy lingerie and a lavender sachet in Ryan’s underwear drawer. We’d need those when I came home.

We went to see Kelsea and drop my car off with her, checking on the house that she now rented from me. Typically, we were a close mother and daughter pair, but now that she was married and trying to get her career off the ground, we talked much less than we used to and saw each other infrequently. I think she had gotten a recent case of the ‘catch-ups’ because her younger brother had already been hired as an opener for a fellow stand-up comic on tour around the United States.

“I won’t stay, hun. I left Ryan out in his car waiting,” I said as I stood in the foyer.

She kissed my cheek. “How rude, Mom. He can come in, you know.”

“I know, doll, but if he comes in, the next thing you know, we’ve eaten up your entire evening. I just came by to drop off the Honda.”

Her eyes brightened as I waved the key. “Remember the deal: start her at least once a week; drive her at least once per month.” She reached for the key, but I drew back, “Right?”

“Yeah, Mom. Jesus Christ, I’m not sixteen anymore.” Even though Kelsea was shorter than me, she was a powerhouse of a young woman, shrewd and intelligent, determined and pragmatic; I had no reason to worry.

“I know, hun. You’ve just been so preoccupied lately and…” I trailed off, having run out of excuses. I scanned around the foyer, formal living room, and as much of the rest of the house as I could see from the main entrance. “Place looks great, baby. Thanks for taking such good care of it. How’s the pool look?”

“Looks great. Looks really great. And the solar heater made it swim-ready in late April.”

“That’s cool. I’m so glad you guys can enjoy it. Please keep the service while I’m gone, too. The house will run fine if you just leave everything how I had it. If stuff is already running perfectly—”

“Don’t change a thing.” She completed my sentence and rolled her eyes. “I know, Mom, I know. Your fear of change is hilarious, considering that you decided to go to Germany.” She looked at me with inquisitive golden hazel eyes, but there was no time nor need to reopen the mental trunk holding all my fears and concerns about Germany. She would understand and likely already suspected, but I really couldn’t revisit it again. She waited long enough to allow me to reply before shrugging and continuing awkwardly. “Well…okay, keep that one locked up for now, but eventually, I suspect we’ll be talking about it.” She twirled the key ring around her finger. “I’ll take her for a spin at least once a week, and I’ll keep the pool service and pay all the bills.” She paused, looking at me mischievously. “I’ll also buy groceries and feed myself. I might go to work, and I might do laundry sometimes, too, though I am considering both of those optional at the moment.”

“Okay. Okay. I can take a hint.” I hugged her and kissed her forehead.

She sighed. “You smell good, like always.”

I didn’t want to let her go. “Thank you, baby. When your brother comes back from tour, you give him his piece of this hug, okay?”

She was stroking my back. She sniffed. “I will.” Her voice cracked slightly.

“It’s only a year, hun. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She broke from the hug. “I know.” Her face was red from crying, and my own eyes stung, too. “Your man is waiting. Better not make him wait too long…” she said in mock warning.

“Speaking of men, tell Blaine that I said he better take care of you while I’m gone.”

She beamed at the thought of her husband. “I will.”

“Okay, beautiful, I love you.” I kissed her again and gave her another hug. “Take care of the car, and be sure to give your brother that piece of my hug.”

As we pulled away from the house, I finally allowed the tears to flow.

*   *   *

After breakfast the next morning, Ryan helped me with cleaning the kitchen. “How do you feel, babe?”

“I dunno. Nervous I guess.” I rinsed another plate and put it in the dish drainer as Ryan’s hand chased up my back to my neck. He massaged gently.

“I s’pose that’s to be expected, right?”

“I guess. Still don’t like it.”

He pushed my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck, sliding his hands down to my hips and pulling me close. “I know you aren’t comfortable at the moment, but how do you feel about the future?”

“Mostly good, I guess.” I bent my head forward and offered him my neck. I loved when he nuzzled me there; I’d stand at the sink all day if that was my reward. He nibbled and nuzzled, and I leaned into him. “What will I do without these moments?”

“We’ll have them—video calling and such.”

“It’s not the same as your hand firmly at my hip and your luscious lips at my neck. No video can capture that.”

“That’s when we buy plane tickets.”

I turned around. “Where did you come from?” I cupped his face and kissed him lovingly. “Where the hell do men like you come from?”

“Men? Men?! Bah,” he scoffed. “There is only one me.” I threw my head back and laughed, putting my hands up. He bit my neck. “What’s so funny?”

I looked at him again. “Ahhh. Fuck, hun. Nothing. Nothing at all is funny.” I rested my upper arms on his shoulders, wrapping one around them and coiling the other atop his head. “It’s so true. You are unique and special. And I love you.” I melted into our kiss, savoring the taste of him in my mouth as his hands stroked down my back and cupped my ass. He lifted me and set me onto the counter, stepping between my now open legs. My mini-skirt rose up to my panty line, exposing my dusty rose thong. His right hand came away from my ass and traced the outside of my thigh, finding the hem of my skirt and following it around the top of my thigh and between my legs. I wrapped my heels behind his knees and opened my legs even farther. He teased the seam of my thong, following it from high on my thigh to the juncture of leg and pelvis. He tickled the tendon that was stretched taut. I inhaled and tilted my hips for him. He rubbed a thumb over the silky material, pushing it against my body and causing it to absorb the juices that were already flowing. We moaned simultaneously as his thumb reached my clit. “I want you…” I breathed.