34 Seconds (2 page)

Baby! Had he just called me Baby? First he slipped in a palm kiss and then threw in the word, “Baby,” like we were a couple. I didn’t know how I was supposed to function, breathe, or speak. The way he tossed out such sweet gestures made me want him more.

“Oh,” I sighed. “I’m nervous to be near you, and I’m nervous to not be near you. It’s a scary feeling for me. I don’t know what it says about me. I’m confused, I figure. If the logical part of me took control, I’d walk away, but I think I might die if I walk away from you.” Oh, shit, what kind of thing was that to say? I sighed again. If this was love, which I knew it was; I was confused. I would laugh at anyone who told me they were in love after just a few days, love hurt, and hurt felt so damned good.

“Nikki, the heat you feel from my hands and from my knees is cycling through my whole body. I’m nervous to be near you too. I’m scared to be too close to you, but I don’t want to be any further away from you,” Will said with a smirk.

“I think this is what they call an impasse,” I said, looking down at his crossed legs.

Will leaned into me, took my hands, and held them on our ankles between us. He then placed his lips next to mine. He didn’t dare touch them; he didn’t dare touch anything except my hands he was holding down. He seemed to be taking the control I couldn’t muster. Time seemed to stop for a moment as we lingered there almost lip to lip. I held my breath, as time seemed to stand still. And in a split second, he lifted my hands, dropped them on his crossed legs, cradled my face in his warm hands, and pulled my lips onto his. It took him three days to kiss me, and I don’t think it could have been more perfect. There was heat. There was passion. But there was no tongue, no thrashing, moaning, or groaning. It was just a simple kiss, one that would linger on my lips waiting until he planted the next one on me. One kiss spoke words to me. It said, ‘Do not be afraid. Let go. Trust your gut. Net the butterflies. Enjoy the moment. Don’t linger too long in one moment or you will miss the next. And allow yourself to fall for this guy. He is the one. And it is okay.’

I knew when he did his “huh hehe” chuckle it was time to open my eyes. I didn’t even feel the warmth of his hand rubbing my knee until I opened my eyes and realized I was still leaning toward him, lingering in a kiss that was no longer taking place.

***

Their tune did end up as a song for the amazing duo. They spent the summer writing music, and I spent the summer listening to them, floating on fluffy clouds, kissing Will
a lot
, and falling in love with the most amazing man I had ever laid eyes on. Liza and Brian didn’t hit it off like Will and I did, but we were a good foursome. Brian and Liza made decent friends; they acted a lot like a brother and sister might, arguing a lot, but with kindness and respect and some weird understanding between them. When Will and I began to take nights to ourselves, walking the beach or riding around in his Camaro, Liza decided to pick up more hours at the restaurant, and Brian spent more time helping Will’s grandfather around the house and just hanging out enjoying the country life.

***

It was the best summer of my life, with romance, joy, music, carefree days, and evenings spent naked in a pool with a man who had the utmost respect for me as a young woman. I couldn’t have been happier and willed time to freeze for Will and me and our young love. But time didn’t freeze. Time marched on; time tore us apart. Time willed strength to ooze from our bodies in places where love had previously flowed.

June 2014
3:34 pm
Deltaville, Virginia

Thirty four seconds is all it took to realize I had just watched Will’s last breath. Will was thirty-four years old. Thirty four seconds passed in time standing still, in a breath held waiting for the next to inhale. Only another breath never came for Will. Thirty four seconds took Will away from me.

Part one

Boulder, Colorado

May 2013

Chapter One

I sat with my knees on top of the bed, legs behind me, chest rising and falling as my breathing grew more rapid. I could see my face in the mirror in front of me, but I wasn’t looking in the mirror. He was standing in front of me, naked and ready for me. I watched him flex his stomach muscles, and as he did so, the tip of his hard penis touched his stomach. Even before he relaxed, I could see just how ready he was. The throbbing was visible from where I was sitting. I felt more excited and ready for him, just watching him. I was enjoying the view as he stood in front of me. He wasn’t posing by any means. I can’t say what exactly he was doing; I just wasn’t paying much attention to details. There were enough details in his body and his intentions to keep my mind busy. It was a moment which only took a few seconds while he did some mundane task, but my memory of it seemed to linger. When he was ready to move, he turned slightly toward me and took the three steps it took to get to the edge of the bed where I was waiting. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he gently laid me down. I could feel his lips on my neck and shoulders. Then he found my ear, my second favorite place to have his lips. I let him linger for as long as he wanted. Tongue in my ear, teeth slightly nibbling on my lobe, I almost didn’t feel him enter me down below, but only because I was in such a trance. I was almost always in a trance when he was naked anywhere near me. It was a pleasant surprise when I felt his hard body press down on my stomach as he entered me, filling me with warmth and joy. I could feel his hands slide down my sides to my hips as he helped himself to the treasure we both wanted him to find. Gliding in and out, I started to think sex hadn’t ever been better. This is what we needed. What I needed. I needed him. And I needed a good orgasm. Chris felt so good inside me, and I was so ready; but I wanted to wait to feel the infamous rush…

The screaming woke me. A thought tugged in the back of my sleepy mind; I shouldn’t have waited.

“Ma Maaaaaa Ma Ma Maaaa,” a tiny voice said. I opened my eyes, searched for the clock, and moaned. The moaning may have been a remnant of the pleasure I had just given up in my unfinished dream, or it may have just been the disappointment in not seeing any sunlight while hearing the cries of my thirteen month old daughter. She was the light of my life. Her big sister filled a lot of space in my heart as well. It was dark out still, but the full moon shone through the large arched picture window in my bedroom. It was a great view anytime of the day or night. In the winter time, it seemed to settle in the window much of the night. It was getting into late spring, and I knew my view of the moon would start to change from my bedroom, making this too-early awakening much tougher on me. If I had to wake so early, I preferred to have a good view or at least some natural light. I didn’t need sunlight when I woke to a bright and smiling face that only wanted to see me each and every day at five in the morning.

It seemed the actions my husband and I were going through in my interrupted dream were just memories now and only appear to me in dreams. Life with two small children had taken over, and the actions it took to create those beautiful little lives were something we only saw in movies. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t remember the last time I had two hours to devote to a movie. If I had two hours to do nothing, I was sleeping or lying awake thinking of all the things I should have been doing. But I never really had two hours to do nothing.

The screaming ceased, but she was shaking her crib rail and muttering, “Uh Oh. Uh Oh,” which meant she’d dropped something out of her crib, and anything in her crib was probably important since it just spent the entire night keeping her comfortable and safe. I knew I should probably go get it for her.

“I’ll get her,” I mumble to the snoring lump beside me.

I was kidding myself again. Not only did he not hear me volunteer to get out of our warm cozy bed to rescue our daughter from her little jailhouse, but he never heard her sleep piercing scream. Though I felt very safe around this man I loved so dearly, I was convinced our house would implode around him, and I’d have to wake him to tell him to go into the light. This is what our lives had become. The kids woke up; I tended to them. Motherhood had become my life. I knew he would, if he could hear them in his sleep. While he slept, I managed their every need. Once awake, I figured I should just get up and deal with it. I was too tired at night to stay awake much past the sun going down. He was too overworked to go to bed early, so I let him sleep during most of our early mornings. However, he usually tried to get up so I could sleep, and I just got up anyway. I had been losing the battle for sleep more often than not.

In the hallway, I almost bumped into my three year old in the near darkness. She was bright eyed and cheery in the moonlight coming in through the window of the guestroom. Another beautiful view. Where was the sun? Why were they awake this early?

“Mommy, Bella woke me up. She bloomed. You have not bloomed yet, Mommy. Can I eat all my oatmeal, and then I can have a lollipop.” No, I hadn’t bloomed yet, but maybe morning blooming would come with the intake of coffee. Wiping my eyes, I wondered if she asked a question or gave me a detailed plan of action for her early morning. I couldn’t begin to think of lollipops yet, and I wasn’t even sure if we had oatmeal.

“Emily, I need to go get Bella, and then we can talk about breakfast and candy when we get downstairs. And after I have something hot and caffeinated in my body,” I said quietly, thinking about the other hot thing I’d rather have in my body, bringing my mind back to my unfinished dream. It was only a dream. I needed to wake up and get into
Mommy
mode. “Go on downstairs, and I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said to her, trying to sound authoritative and all-knowing but wondering how I would lift a sixteen pound baby out of the crib without dropping her while half asleep in the dark.

“Good morning, my little butterfly, flutter by, flit flit flutter bug butterfly. Good morning,” I whispered to my youngest daughter. It didn’t matter how tired I was; the sight and smell of my babies would wake me and fill me with smiles. A wonderful and warm feeling washed over me. As hard as it was, it was life.

We met Emily downstairs. I managed to scrounge something healthy for my children to eat for breakfast. It turned out we had oatmeal after all. And fresh strawberries. Bonus, I thought to myself, having passed the Mommy test for the day. As I sipped some very hot Breakfast Blend, I began to come to life. I doubt it was the actual caffeine that woke me, but rather the idea of a stimulant and something hot in the morning. It could be only hot water; it would wake me up just the same. But I did love the taste and warmth of coffee.

As the kids ate, I turned on the laptop I kept on the island in the kitchen and checked my email. I stayed at the kitchen counter, checked on the status of our flight, and looked for any news regarding our planned trip out to Virginia. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I was disappointed when there was no news to be read, like maybe a cancellation. I did, however, manage to drink an entire cup of coffee while standing there. While my attention was on coffee consumption, my girls managed to eat about half of their strawberries and oatmeal, and Bella managed to smear the rest on her jammies and high chair tray while Emily’s bowl was upside down on the floor.

“Emily, do you have your books packed yet? We are leaving tomorrow,” I said to my three year old as I read the email confirming our flight out to Virginia the next day. She was only three years old; I couldn’t exactly expect her to pack her books, but I had asked her to pick out a few favorites to take on the airplane. I knew I’d end up reading Cinderella over and over again for three hours straight, but I was also hoping the new movie I picked out would keep them both busy on the cross country flight. I remembered getting a deck of cards and wings when I flew as a small child. Today, parents take an entire playroom to entertain our children. But these are the days of sitting on tarmacs for hours and hours without knowing why the plane is not in the air, so we have to be prepared for anything. Especially with kids.

“Mommy, I just want to take Cinderelly,” Emily replies. This much I knew.

“Okay, sweetie, but maybe we’ll take some extra books just in case we decide we want to read something else, too.” Or in case we lose ‘Cinderelly,’ I thought to myself, imagining the fantastic story in a nice big trash can sitting at Gate B32 at Denver International Airport. I was a little tired of Cinderella. Maybe I knew a girl couldn’t dance with one man for an entire evening with a bunch of other women standing around watching, and then marry him the next day when his aide brings her the shoe she just happened to leave at his house. I’m cynical. Fairytales didn’t impress me much, but I’ll let my girls live them until the day I bring them into the real world. They could live in their little fairytale bubble, and Cinderella was a favorite.

With the children fed and hot coffee in my tummy, I headed upstairs to shower. I met Chris, my husband, on the stairs and told him my plans, asked him to check the flight plans one more time, print our boarding passes, and keep an eye on the kids, so I could shower without little hands all over the glass trying to touch Mommy through the shower door.

“Remind me to tell you my dream later.” I snuck in a little grab as we passed on the staircase. I may have felt older and unattractive being a mother of two little girls, but I still liked to flirt and play. I couldn’t find time or energy to actually complete the task of lovemaking.

We built our dream house two years earlier. I was reminded of how much I loved the house each time I walked into any room. My bathroom was not huge, but it was beautiful with seventeen foot ceilings and mirrors I couldn’t even reach without a ladder. I always felt like a princess when I was in our Master Bathroom. When I was there, I wanted to pamper myself and not just pee or shower. I was a housewife though, and I was reminded of my non-princess status when I had to pull the ladder out to reach and clean the mirrors. The windows were so high only soaring eagles could see my post baby naked body walking around. And of course they were so high, they never got cleaned, so it was not a worry anyway. I was not going to bother with cleaning either the mirrors or windows though. I planned to stand in a hot shower, shave my legs, and maybe sit on the built-in bench while the hot water ran down my face and back, waking me up even more. I needed all the rejuvenation I could get. Our shower was a great place for a lot of things. The bench was great to sit on, great to put my feet on while I shaved, and I thought it was a great place to connect with my husband. But usually his showers were at five in the morning, and my showers were spent with little hands all over the door and conversations I couldn’t really hear with a three year old. Chris and I didn’t really have time to connect in the shower or out.