ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟛 #2
I tapped my fingers against the table. For some reason, his approval made me feel twelve years old. Which was ridiculous because I was a grown woman. A very successful grown woman, for that matter.
Dixie Armani West, was my name.
Yet somehow Cameron West could still make me feel like I was being graded.
Two minutes later, the employee returned carrying our coffees.
The tiramisu followed shortly after. It was bigger than I expected.
Layers of cream and cake, cocoa powder dusted across the top all piled on a fancy plate.The thing probably contained enough sugar to fuel a small city.
She placed it in the center, along with two forks.
"Enjoy."
"Thank you," Cameron said.
I smiled politely, even though polite was not what I was feeling.
The employee practically floated away.
"This looks disastrous." I say, playing with my fork.
Cameron took a big bite. "Don't knock it till you try it."
I could certainly knock you.
"This is incredible," he said.
I snort. "You've never had tiramisu?"
"No."
A moment later he slid the plate toward me. I hesitated before taking a bite.
Sweet was an understatement. Words couldn't describe how sugary it was. Nonetheless, it was good.
Cameron looked up at me. "You like?"
"Too much sugar." I say, looking out the window again.
"You know," Cameron said quietly, stirring his coffee, "I think this is the first time you've agreed to go somewhere with me without threatening bodily harm."
"I don't threaten you."
"Dixie."
"Okay, maybe I do. But it's not my fault." I chuckle.
The bell above the bakery door rang, and in came a family.
A mother, and a father. And between them, holding both their hands, was a little girl.
Maybe 5 or 6.
She wore a bright blue Disney princess dress. The skirt swished dramatically every time she moved, tiny sparkly shoes flashed beneath the hem.
The little girl skipped toward the counter, talking a mile a minute. Her parents listened patiently.
The father eventually bent down to hear something she'd whispered. The little girl giggled, then pointed excitedly toward the boba menu.
My heart twists. She would've gotten boba too.
It should have been us.
Jordyn would've loved the dress. In fact, she would've demanded one in every color. She would've asked for boba because she saw another kid drinking it, then she would've hated it after one sip.
The image hit so suddenly it almost stole the air from my lungs.
Across the table, Cameron went quiet. I knew he'd noticed. He always noticed, especially when it came to Jordyn.
I focused on my coffee-the embroidered cup suddenly felt very important.
"Dix," Cameron spoke softly.
"I'm fine."
It was such an ordinary moment. The kind people never realize they're lucky to have.
"Her dress is cute," I said quietly.
The words sounded strange coming from me.
Cameron followed my gaze. For a second I thought he might say something.
"Yeah." His voice was soft, "Really cute."
~
Furniture shopping was an absolute mess.
Cameron suggested we basically upgrade our mansion, filling it up with different things I've never even heard of.
Apparently there were fifteen different kinds of lamps.
Who needed seventeen kinds of lamps?
Unfortunately, halfway through our shopping spree, the sky decided it had other plans.
Rain hammered against the enormous showroom windows so hard it blurred the parking lot into one giant gray sheet. Thunder rolled somewhere overhead, rattling the glass.
The employees politely ushered everyone toward the exits after announcing the storm had knocked out part of the traffic lights nearby.
So, naturally, Cameron bought half the store before we left.
Now we were home, and somehow our foyer looked like a furniture warehouse.
"Cameron."
"Hm?"
"What exactly possessed you to buy an oversized ceramic vase?"
He looked at the nearly four-foot-tall white vase sitting beside the front door.
"Pretty cool, isn't it?"
"Your definition of cool is atrocious."
He flashed me a grin before grabbing one side of an accent table. "Help me with this, will you?."
"I weigh significantly less than you."
"So?"
"You carry it."
"I could, but then we'd miss out on this beautiful bonding experience."
"Oh, it's bonding, alright."
He laughs softly.
Another crack of thunder exploded overhead. This one was much, much louder.
The windows rattled. We both instinctively looked toward them.
The rain had become almost impossible to see through.Water rushed down the glass in thick streams, the trees lining our driveway bent dramatically beneath the wind, it was the perfect setting for a horror movie.
Cameron frowned. "The storm got worse."
"I noticed." I add sarcastically.
"It wasn't supposed to."
"Mother Nature's probably mad at you for buying all this crap."
He chuckled softly. "Guess so. You think she'd like celestial globes?"
For another fifteen minutes we carried boxes inside, hauling what felt like millions of furniture that I know were going straight to the basement.
I shook my head. "You've done lost your mind."
"I lost it years ago."
"When?"
"The day I married a lawyer."
"I thought you were going to say firefighter school."
"No, when I married you."
My cheeks warmed before I could stop them. "I don't know if that's an insult or compliment."
"You know I could never insult you."
"I know."
By the time we'd finished unloading the SUV, both of us were damp from the rain. It was enough that little droplets clung to Cameron's hair. His shirt stuck slightly to his shoulders.
Sometimes I hated how attractive he was.
Sadly for me, Cameron caught staring. I didn't look away fast enough.
"Like what you see?" He flexed his bicep.
I playfully pushed him away.
"Gosh no. We both know you don't have the muscles for that."
He then stared at his own bicep to check.
"Are you sure about that?"
He stepped closer- close enough that I could smell rain and cedar soap. "You've been looking at me a lot lately."
"I have not."
"Don't lie, Dix."
"I think you're imagining things." I look down.
Goodness, I could feel my own face getting red.
"Hm."
"What?"
"I like this version of you."
"What version?" I say, finally looking up.
"The one who forgets she's supposed to pretend she doesn't like me."
"I never said I didn't like you."
"Oh really? Prove it."
Slowly, my arms wrap around his neck, as I balance on my toes.
"Prove it how?" I say, intentionally stalling.
His arms wrap around the small of my waist.
"Oh, you treat me so mean, Dixie."
Before I could lean in and seal a kiss, the entire house trembled. Outside, there was a loud crack, like the sky itself had snapped.
Before either of us could move, everything went black. The grandfather clock in the entryway fell silent. Darkness swallowed the house whole. For one stunned second, neither of us spoke.
"Cameron?" I say, even though my hands were still on him.
"I'm here."
His voice came from somewhere directly in front of me. Another flash of lightning illuminated the room for half a heartbeat, just enough for me to see his silhouette.
Then darkness again.
"What just happened?" I asked, my voice small.
He walked toward one of the windows, carefully pulling the curtain aside. Lightning flashed again.
"...I'd bet a tree came down."
"What?" I barely manage out.
"Looks like one of the big oaks."
"You're joking."
"I wish I was."
Another flash pulled through.
He let the curtain fall leaving us in pitch black again. "If I'm right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "it probably took the power line with it."
I let out one long, irritated sigh. "Fantastic."
"Hm?"
"I finally agree to leave the house with you," I gestured dramatically into the darkness."And we come home to live in the eighteenth century."
Even in the dark, I hear him laugh. His laugh is recognizable.
Is that weird?
"Don't worry, Mrs. West."
"What?"
"I know exactly where the flashlights are."
He got quiet.
"I think."
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
"I said I think."
The rain battered against the roof with enough force to make the windows tremble every few seconds. Somewhere outside, another crack of thunder rolled across the property, followed by the soft groan of branches scraping against one another.
Talk about scary.
"Cameron?" I called.
No answer.
I folded my arms tighter across my chest. "You find the flashlight yet?"
I glanced toward the staircase leading downstairs. He'd said he'd be back in a minute.
It had been, what?
Five?
Maybe six?
The house was unnaturally quiet without electricity. No air conditioning, no lights from neighboring houses bleeding through the windows.
I sighed dramatically.
"Son of a nutcracker."
Muttering to myself, I grabbed my phone.
Two percent.
Wonderful, amazing.
The flashlight barely illuminated the hallway as I made my way toward the basement door. Each wooden stair creaked beneath my weight.
"Cameron?"
A muffled voice floated upward. "Down here!"
I rounded the final step.
The basement looked even more cluttered than I remembered. There were stacks of labeled plastic bins lined one wall, holiday decorations,camping gear.
Cameron stood in the middle of it all holding exactly one flashlight.
"Found one," he announced proudly.
"You've been down here for six minutes looking for one flashlight."
He nodded.
I looked around. "You've somehow made it messier."
"I may have gotten sidetracked." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, like a little boy who got caught stealing candy.
"I noticed."
My gaze drifted to the open bins scattered around him. "You've practically opened half the basement."
"I thought they'd be in one of these." He holds up a couple of storage bins.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Move please."
He obediently stepped aside. I crouched in front of one of the shelving units.
"Cam."
"Yeah?"
"When was the last time you looked in the emergency supply cabinet?"
He stayed silent.
"There's an emergency supply cabinet?"