Chapter Thirty-One
THEY STOPPED AT Silver-Stone to return his bike for its transport back to Bayside and picked up the truck.
The drive back to the falls was filled with quiet contentment.
Shauna liked getting to know, and being part of, these other sides of Zander.
She hadn’t understood his need to ship his motorcycle out at first, but having seen the joy it brought him and experiencing the thrill firsthand, she was glad he had.
He drove to Goat Island, and as they climbed out of the truck, they were greeted by the sound of the falls and dusky shades of purple and pink painting the sky.
“The sky is so pretty here. It looks like a painting,” she said.
“It’s pretty everywhere, but you, my sweet wife, rarely slow down enough to notice, like me before the accident.”
He took her hand, heading across the parking lot.
She saw Top of the Falls Restaurant, but instead of following the other people making their way there, he led her down a walkway.
They passed tall trees and beautiful flowers and came to a grassy knoll, where a handful of people were milling about and taking pictures of the falls.
Zander led her past them, around a small group of trees, to a picnic spread out in the grass, so beautiful it knocked the air from her lungs.
Solar candles flickered around a blue-and-white blanket, with flowers in mason jars and glass-topped platters of cheese, crackers, bread, and fruit, and skewers of meat and vegetables.
“We’ll have a great view of the fireworks from here,” Zander said, as if he hadn’t just turned this public park into something right out of a movie.
Every time she told herself to pull back, he said or did something that drew her deeper into him.
She knew she shouldn’t get lost in it. That he was just living up to his promise to give her a memorable honeymoon.
But she might never feel this way again, and she didn’t want to distance herself from the warmth settling inside her.
When she turned to him, the softness in his gaze did her in.
“This is beautiful, thank you.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.
It was just a quick press of her lips, but as she sank down to her heels, noticing other couples watching them with envy and awe, her nerves spiked, and she tried to make light of it. “It’s a good thing I never want to get married, because I don’t think anyone could ever top this.”
“I expect to see that noted in the review.”
She was glad for his levity. It eased the tightness in her chest. “Ten gold stars for Zander Wicked, setting the bar high in and out of the bedroom.”
Dinner was perfectly simple, and conversation came as naturally as it always did.
When they were finished, one of the waitstaff from the restaurant came to collect their dishes, leaving them with the blanket, flowers, and candles to take home.
Shauna pretended not to notice Zander slipping him a wad of cash.
As the evening wore on, they fell into comfortable silence, surrounded by the sounds of the falls and the din of the people arriving for the fireworks. “It’s so quiet, it feels like everyone’s holding their breath,” she said.
“It’s hard to believe there was a time when I couldn’t stand the quiet.”
“You mean when you first got sober?” he asked, crossing his legs at the ankles as he leaned back on his palms, his shoulder brushing hers.
“Mm-hm. How did you know?”
“You mentioned it the night you moved in. You said you and Brian became gym rats, and you volunteered at the firehouse. I get it. My internal thoughts are loudest when the rest of the world is quiet, too. It used to drive me crazy.”
“Really? Your life seems so good. I mean, I was fighting the urge to drink to avoid thinking about all the ways my family let me down and how long I let myself live in a state of only being half aware of everything around me. But you’ve got an amazing family and great friends, and from what you’ve said, you’ve always had women at your beck and call.
Most guys would kill to have your life.”
He smiled, but there was a shadow in his eyes. “Yeah, well, most guys didn’t spend years convinced they were stupid because they couldn’t read like everyone else.” He sat up, bent one knee, and hooked his arm over it. He looked away, his hand curled into a fist.
Her heart squeezed. “You had trouble reading?”
“Still do.” He looked at her then, the vulnerability in his eyes in stark contrast to the pushy, powerful man she knew him to be.
“Dyslexia. It’s a bitch, and mine’s pretty fucking bad.
If it weren’t for Zeke helping me with every single assignment, I never would’ve gotten through elementary school, much less graduated from high school. ”
“Oh, Zan.” She touched his leg, remembering how he’d asked her to read the list from her phone when they were writing up the prenup. “I don’t know much about dyslexia, but I know how hard it is feeling different from other kids. I’m sorry you went through that.”
“It sucked, but it’s no big deal. I use a text-to-speech app now, so it’s all good. I just wanted you to know that I get it, and my life hasn’t always been perfect.”
She saw how hard this was for him, but she wanted him to know he could trust her and she wouldn’t judge him.
“I’m glad technology helps, but don’t minimize what you went through.
You just said you spent years feeling like you were stupid.
That’s an awful feeling. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, but please don’t pretend it wasn’t hard for my benefit.
I understand hard and all the shit that comes with it. ”
“I wouldn’t want to knock down my ten-star rating.”
“You couldn’t if you tried. I want to know what it was like for you. Did they even know what dyslexia was when you were in elementary school?”
He gave her a wry smile and bumped her with his shoulder. “Are you calling me old, Flores?”
“No, but the facts are the facts,” she teased, earning a genuine smile.
“They didn’t test for it back then, and I had no idea that other kids didn’t see letters moving across the page or all mixed up. I thought it was normal and I was just an idiot because I couldn’t make sense of it.”
“I totally understand that. It’s funny the way a little kid’s mind works. I didn’t realize all parents weren’t like mine until fifth or sixth grade, and then I felt ashamed and tried to sink into the background, hoping nobody would notice.”
“I did the opposite. I learned to joke around and be outrageously loud to distract people from my inability to read, which made it harder for my teachers and family to realize I had issues that went beyond being a jokester or too lazy to do the work. But that’s nothing compared to what you went through.
I had support every step of the way, even if it was misguided. ”
“It’s different but just as challenging,” she said. “What did your parents do?”
“They tried to get me to settle down and focus, which made me feel even dumber, because I was focusing as hard as I could and still not measuring up. And remember, I had smart older brothers who could figure shit out with one read or by being told things once, so I made it my goal to prove I was as good as or better than them in other ways.”
“What other ways?”
“I don’t know. Everything from running faster to being funnier.
If they got a nod from our old man for mowing the lawn straight, I’d make sure the lines looked like a damn baseball field.
If they made a girl smile, I’d…” His brows knitted.
“Holy shit.” A disbelieving laugh fell from his lips, and he scrubbed a hand down his face.
“What?”
“Women. They started out as part of that competition. My brothers have always been the coolest guys I know. I remember watching them pick up girls when I was thirteen or fourteen and thinking, I can do that. I’ll get the prettiest girls and prove I’m cooler than them.
” He shook his head. “I forgot all about that. What a fool I was.”
“You weren’t a fool. You wanted to win.” She smiled and said, “Besides, a wise man once told me not to knock the practice when you reap the benefits.”
“You’re a’right, Flores.”
“Thanks.” She gazed out at the people gathering around the railing. “I guess reading music is different from reading words?”
“No. It’s all the same. I tried learning to read music, but it was too frustrating. Mads saw me struggling and taught herself to play the guitar when she was twelve so she could teach me to play by ear.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.” She lifted his hand and touched the tattoo on his middle finger. “Now this musical note makes sense. It represents you, doesn’t it? Trapped by your dyslexia? The barbed wire?”
He tilted his head. “You know what a sforzando is?”
“You have a tattoo of my initials on your finger. Did you think I wouldn’t google it to see if it was really a musical abbreviation or if I’d married a psycho stalker?”
He almost smiled, but he glanced at the tattoo, his expression serious. When he finally said, “Yeah, it’s me,” it came out raw.
A distant boom drew their attention, the telltale hiss of fireworks nearly drowned out by the roaring falls.
An explosion of red burst into dazzling streaks of light as sounds of excited awe rose from the crowds around them.
She and Zander lowered themselves to their backs on the blanket to watch the show.
But as fireworks bloomed against the night sky, she couldn’t stop thinking about the magnitude of what he’d shared.