Meadowlarks (20 page)

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Authors: Ashley Christine

BOOK: Meadowlarks
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I feel the urge to call my father and tell him I love him, to wish him a Merry Christmas. I decide that I will later—after presents, I need to get out of my funk and start enjoying this day with my beloved. This revelation was the best gift I could have asked for, and I finally feel at peace.

             
We sit cross-legged on my mom's quilt on the floor. I slide over a large box wrapped in gold paper. She rips it open, smiling and when she opens it. She has to stand to pull out her gift. I know she likes bareback, but I wanted her to have her own saddle, too.

             
“Blaine, it's beautiful! Thank you.” She lifts out the black leather Billy Cook and traces her fingertips around the detail in the leather.

AB
is engraved in the horn.

“This part is my favourite.
” Addison smiles.               “Here you go!” She sits back down and holds her hands clasped together under her chin in anticipation.

I tear open the paper, and inside the slim box are two tickets for a trip to Texas. My eyes fly to meet hers.
              “Texas!”

I'm elated. Aside from Maine, I've only ever visited three states around Wyoming: Nebraska, South Dakota and Colorado. Texas is a
dream.

             
“Thank you! When do we go?” I'm not sure if she can tell if I'm excited or not, so my voice raises a little, and I blush.

             
“Well, I booked time off in March so we can spend a whole week. Can you wait that long or should I call the hosp—”

I cut her off by pulling her onto my lap and kissing her, tongues twisting, tasting and softly lapping. I could kiss her all day.
              “I can wait to go anywhere, as long as it's with you.”

             
We call everyone to wish them a Merry Christmas. When I call Jeremiah I'm surprised when it sounds like I haven't woken him up. Alex didn't fly home to Maine; instead he stayed at Jer's. They even cut down their own Charlie Brown tree, bachelor-style.

             
The plan this year is for us all to drive to Nick's for Christmas dinner, including Jeremiah and Alex, who I'm sure have exchanged cases of beer as gifts.

             
My sisters-in-law go all out for everything, obviously, so I'm the only one not gaping when we pull into their driveway and see all the Christmas crap everywhere. I'm willing to bet that you can see their house from space with all the lights strung everywhere.

             
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Maria rushes out of the kitchen with a tray full of glasses with eggnog. It's sprinkled with nutmeg and smells amazing.

             
“Is there rum in this?” I ask, holding up my glass, inspecting it. I might just need some booze to help me through tonight.

             
“Now, Blaine, of course there isn't.” She winks ever so obviously and asks—no, tells—Nick to take our coats and hang them in the closet. Everything is different when it's her house we're in and not mine; she's got full reign here.

             
“Well, there's the lovely Addison. Merry Christmas, my dear.” My dad grabs her hand and holds it, smiling at us as he then shakes my hand.

             
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Blackstock. How are you doing?” She leans in to give him a hug.

             
“Now, now, none of that Mr. Blackstock nonsense. Call me Bennett.”

             
Dinner is as filling as I expected, and Maria has packaged up two large plastic containers full of leftovers for Jeremiah and Alex to take back home with them.

             
“Thank you!” Alex grins widely when she hands him his container. He pulls it away from me when I try to peek at what she's put inside. “Don't think so, bro!”

             
On the drive over, I decided that I'm not going to say anything to anyone about my revelation earlier today. I want to keep this joyous feeling all to myself for now. When we get ready to leave I hug my dad.

             
“Bye, dad. Merry Christmas.”

             
“You too, son. You make sure drive careful now; the roads could be slippery.”

I hear the comment in a different light than I would have yesterday. He's not
ordering
me; he's truly
hoping
I listen to him and take care on the way home.

             
Our first Christmas together was both emotionally fulfilling and draining. Come to think of it, almost everything since I met her has been. Is this what living is really like? Was I just going on day by day before, not truly experiencing life?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
             

             
We don't have much of a winter, so when March hits, you can feel the difference in the air. Spring is coming. March also only leaves just over two months until I stand with my brothers (including Jeremiah in that regard) and wait for the most beautiful woman on earth to walk down an aisle and marry me.

Our trip to Texas is in three days, and Addison has our bags packed already. And by bags
, I mean my single suitcase and her three—not including a carry-on.

             
“What?” She giggles and uses all her weight to heave the largest suitcase off the bed. It slams down on the floor loudly.

             
“Need some help?” I smirk, crossing my arms.

             
“I've got it, thank you. I hope we don't forget anything!”

             
I look around at the bedroom. All the drawers are pulled out, and there are hangers all over the floor in the walk-in closet. “I think you got it all.”

             
She smiles and walks over to push all the wooden drawers back in.               “Ouch!” she cries out as she pinches her finger and puts it into her mouth.

             
“You okay?” I take her hand and kiss her finger.

             
“Yes, thank you.” She pouts and puts her arms around my neck. “I can't wait to get away for a while.”

             
She's been working a lot since she started in the fall. Most shifts are twelve hours long, and at least one week out of the month, she's strictly on nights so we don't see much of each other. When she comes home at eight in the morning, she stays awake for a little while, trying to spend at least some time with me before I have to get to work. Next month she starts full time in the NICU, and even though it may mean I see less of her, I know that's what her dream is. I'm not going to stand in her way.

             
I'm not as nervous during the flight as I was on my first, when we went to Maine. I have a window seat again, but since our plane left at ten at night, we fly in complete darkness. We arrive in Dallas just after three-thirty in the morning. Our cab ride from Dallas International to the Hilton takes roughly twenty minutes.

             
“Reservations for Cole, please.” Addison smiles and hands the older man at the front desk her credit card.

             
“Thank you, Miss Cole. Welcome to Dallas; here are your room keys.” He smiles and hands her an envelope with two plastic cards. “Benjamin will help you with your bags.” He motions with his hand, and a man around my age in a suit comes out of nowhere to pick up all three pieces of Addison's luggage. Looking at me, I think he's trying to figure out how he's going to add mine to the pile.

             
“I got this one, buddy.” I hold my own and take one of hers, freeing a hand for him.

He smiles.
              “Thanks. The elevators are over here.” He points and starts walking.

             
Benjamin opens the door to our room and sets the luggage down, asking if there is anything else he can do for us.

             
“No, I think we're good. Thanks.” I hand him a tip; he smiles and thanks me.

             
“Wow, this is beautiful!” Addison flops down backwards on the bed and laughs.

             
“It's the most beautiful thing I've seen.” I'm not talking about the room.

             
“So do you want to pull an all-nighter or sleep for a few hours?” She smiles, pulling her shoes off and tossing them on the floor near the large loveseat.

             
“Well, what exactly does an all-nighter entail?” I grin.

             
“If we don't sleep, we will miss part of the day!”               Addison unzips her bag and pulls out a long t-shirt. She undresses and pulls it on before I can even take my boots off.

             
We sleep for five hours. When I wake up, she's still sleeping with her head on my chest, exactly where it was when we fell asleep. I breathe in the scent of green apples from her hair; it's so much longer now than it was when we met. It flows halfway down her back, and with her working all the time, I rarely see it down. She has to keep it pulled back and out of the way while she's at the hospital.

             
“Addy,” I whisper softly, not wanting to get out of bed. But if we miss out on all the things she has planned for us, she'll be disappointed. “Wake up, my love.” I hug her tightly, and she starts to stir.

“Hi.” She smiles, looking up at me through sleepy eyes, slowly batting her long lashes.

              The room is full of the smell of maple and cinnamon. Room service has brought us a delicious breakfast of French toast, scrambled eggs and sausage. We sit crossed-legged together on the bed watching the Dallas morning news. It looks like today will be a good day to be a tourist.               Our first stop is to a car rental shop; we choose a new black Ford Taurus.

             
“Wanna drive?” I smile, and Addison grabs the key from my open hand.               First stop: Fort Worth Stockyards.

             
“I could get used to driving a car like this!” She floors the pedal and beams while she's gripping the steering wheel. She looks good in this car.               Since I couldn't convince her to let me get her another car to drive in the winter, I had insisted she take my truck when she needed to, and we parked her Mustang in the garage.

“Why don't we get you one when we get home?” I smile and reach over to gently rub her thigh. Slowly sliding up her skirt, my rough palm trails along her soft skin. Tingles shoot through my fingertips, and I close my eyes.

              Time really does fly when you're having fun; whoever first coined that phrase was bang-on. Five days pass, and we visit almost every possible attraction that we can in the big and beautiful Lone Star state.

Back in Dallas, our last stop before going to the hotel is the JFK Memorial. Encased in two large square walls is a simple black plaque with
John Fitzgerald Kennedy
embossed in gold. A mere two hundred yards from where we stood, JFK's life ended. We do the typical sightseer thing and take a photo of ourselves standing at the memorial. We've filled three memory cards during our visit.

             
Since my accident last summer, when I couldn't remember the love of my life, there hadn't been any pictures of her around that I could look at to possibly spark a memory. We've since rectified that, and our home is full of framed love, hanging on the walls where there wasn't any images before.

             
After my mom died, my dad took down all the pictures. I'd only seen a few of her in photo albums that he kept in the closet in his bedroom. It's like he didn't want to share her with anyone, so taking down her pictures would keep her all to himself.

             
Now my mother’s portrait is placed in a large frame on the mantel of the stone fireplace. She was young and beautiful; she looked like an angel even before she actually became one. Her long blonde hair flowed down her back as she stood in the bluest water I've ever seen, looking over her shoulder and smiling out of bright blue eyes at whoever took the picture—my dad, I’m sure.

             
“Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?” I ask, my stomach grumbling.

Back in our hotel room, Addison
changes out of her pale yellow cotton dress and into a sleek black one with an open back. It clings to her body like it's painted on, and I'm salivating.

             
“Do we have to go out to eat?” I grin, and she tosses the yellow dress at me.

             
“We do. This is our last night here, get dressed!”

             
I am a creature of habit, so I put on another pair of jeans, a cleaner pair than what I'm wearing now. I also choose a white t-shirt underneath a dark blue button up shirt, a leather belt with the buckle that she bought me for my birthday, and my boots.

             
“Mmm, so handsome.” She adjusts my collar and kisses me deeply. She's in those sexy black heels again so she doesn't even have to lean up much to reach my lips. Her eyes are blazing blue, and I wonder what she's thinking about.

             
“What's with that look?” I narrow my eyes quizzically.

             
“Oh, nothing at all. Just thinking about how hot you look. I don't think you even realize it.”

             
If she keeps this up, we won't make it to dinner, and we'll probably miss our flight in the morning too. I grin my sexiest smile, and I feel her pulse quicken as I tenderly kiss her neck and throat.

             
“Let's go, baby,” I breathe.

 

***

             
Texas was just what I needed, but I'm happy to be back home. The one downfall is that Addison had to go right back to work.

When I
arrive to pick her up after her shift she's standing outside with Ruth, the older nurse who she shadowed for her training. Ruth’s still wearing her triangular white nurse’s hat, and she puffs away on her cigarette.

Turning the corner to park right in front of the building, I can now see she's not only standing with Ruth but also a guy in blue scrubs.
              They're talking, and he puts his hand on Addison's elbow. I narrow my eyes, watching him touch her. My pulse quickens.

When she hears my truck pull up, she turns and smiles. His hand drops from her arm, and for a moment I'm glad I have tinted windows. I wouldn't want her to see the daggers I was shooting him from my glare.
Or, maybe I would.

             
Ruth and the guy say something to Addison, and she smiles, turning to walk to the truck.

I lean over and open her door from the inside.

              “Hey you!” She leans in to kiss my cheek.

             
“Hi,” I say. I want to say something else, like, “Who the fuck was that guy who was touching you?”, but I don't. If this is what jealousy feels like, I don't like it at all. I trust her completely, but I'm a man, and I know exactly how we think. I try to ask without
actually
asking.

             
“How's Ruth?” I've never asked how she is before, so I try to be indifferent about it.

             
“Umm, she's good. She's actually retiring this summer, just gave her notice last week.”

             
“Well, that’s good for her. How long has she worked there anyway?”

             
“Over thirty years. That was Reid, by the way. He's going to be shadowing Ruth in her last few months.” She's too good; she could tell I wanted to ask but didn't have the balls.

             
“Oh, yeah. I guess it'll take a lot of people to fill her shoes then, huh?” I avoid his name like the plague. Something about him rubs me the wrong way.

             
She doesn't say anything but smirks at me, shakes her head and looks out the window as we drive home. We have a late dinner. I managed to make lasagna before I picked her up.               This time, I didn’t burn it. Granted, I didn't have her sexy body distracting me this time.

She eats two
full plates and drinks three glasses of wine. Letting out a small burp, she covers her mouth and laughs.               “Excuse me! Oh, my goodness.” She blushes, and I laugh because I've never heard her do that before.

             
“In some countries they say that's a compliment of eating a good meal.” I take it as a compliment anyway.

             
“I didn't eat all day; I didn't get a chance to sit down once. This is exactly what I needed. Thank you. It was so good!” She stands to take our plates, and when she walks around the table to my side, I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her.

             
“I miss you.” I breathe her in. She smells like rubbing alcohol, latex gloves, soap, and Addison. “I might just have to get you pregnant so I can have you home more.”

She tenses, and I look up at her.

              “What?”

             
“Nothing,” she says quietly. “I just love you. And I miss you, too.” Leaning down to kiss me, she runs her fingers through my hair. “I want to have babies with you, too. Let's get married first, though.” She pats her stomach and laughs. “I don't want to be a pregnant bride.”

She takes our plates and glasses into the kitchen, and I hear her phone ring.

              “Hello?…Hey, babe!…Wait, what? Are you serious? Don't tease me, Riley...Okay, call me when you have all the details!” She almost bounces back into the dining room.               “That was Riley! She said she's bringing the girls here and throwing me a bachelorette/birthday party next month!” She pulls her hair out of a pony tail and scruffs it with her fingers. The curls fall all around her face and down her shoulders. “Can't wait to get wild, baby!” She bites her lip and winks at me.

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