Chapter 17 #2
“Plannin’ to stay on chat with you ‘til pick up.” Grabbing my work bag is followed by me exiting my vehicle, an action that has him asking, “Bronskie already at the Skudders?”
“Yeah, he rode home with Jessey and Sergio.”
“That’s her boyfriend, right?”
“Right.”
“Is it wrong I’m relieved that girl is hookin’ up with someone else and so is he?”
“Not wrong but…” my head bobbles around upon my approach of the front double doors, “not totally out of the woodwork since he is hooking up with her best friend and her best friend – who Bronny went to HC with – is just hooking up with him until Jessey and Sergio break up again.”
“Why do we have our own little telenovela in our neighborhood?”
“Just typical teen drama shit,” I playfully correct while keying in the entry code.
“I don’t remember bein’ that dramatic.”
“Grams does.”
He lets another chuckle escape prior to asking, “She call to say happy birthday?”
“She did.” Pushing one door open is done in tandem with replying, “She said she’d pour an extra shot in her hot toddy for me. Another allergy spell seems to have got to her. She was having a lot of trouble breathing.”
Very sweet and sassy and southern; however, I get the feeling she’s going to be just as welcoming to me in person as she has been over the phone.
“I’ll make sure to check on her sitch in the mornin’.”
I’m barely two steps into the house when my foot collides with a balloon, instantly dropping my jaw.
“What the…” Continuing forward has me stomping through the assortment of them that are littering the floor.
Some are solid colors. Some are polka dotted.
There are ones with words. Ones with crowns.
Music notes. It isn’t until I’ve arrived in the kitchen that I see my nickname spelled out in bright gold, fully inflated lettering, hovering near the kitchen island. “Ohmygod!”
“Perfect,” Thayne proudly sighs, collecting my stare. “Your reaction was. Absolutely. Perfect.”
It’s almost impossible to speak, “I…I…can’t believe you…did all this…”
“Baby, I would’ve done so much more if I were in town,” he proudly gushes. “The woman of my dreams bein’ born today is a celly that should end all cellys.”
Softly cooing at his retort barely has time to leave my lips.
“So, there’s one espresso walnut cream cupcake in the fridge for dessert – I let Bronskie pick that out – and it’s sittin’ next to a bottle of pink Moscato. I got the one you really liked that first night I met your parents.”
Additional awe appears in my gaze.
“That is to go with dinner from Baltywood which is scheduled to be delivered within the hour.”
My cracked jaw only becomes more so.
“You mentioned wantin’ to try their crabcakes, so I ordered you them and a wedge salad ‘cause I know how much you love the green but not how much you gotta shell out for it.”
Hunks of lettuce shouldn’t cost that much!
“Now,” he smugly smirks at the same time he drops onto the edge of his hotel mattress, found shoe in hand, “if would kindly allow me to escort you up the stairs to our bedroom, where the rest of your birthday surprises are waitin’ I would greatly appreciate it.”
“There’s more?!”
“Of course there’s more, Gillybean.” The phone gets dropped at his side.
“This may be my first season as the man in your life, but it ain’t my first rodeo.
” My frame spins the direction of the stairs, internally excited to wade through the balloons a second time.
“I know a boyfriend should be good to his woman on her special day and a man determined to marry her should be playoff good, aye?”
More swoons slip loose and I don’t bother hiding them.
Why should I?
He’s earned them.
Every.
Single.
One.
Seeing him wiggling around allows me to catch a glimpse of his brightly colored foot covering as well as lovingly tease, “Nice ‘Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Feetkini’.”
“Why thank you,” he loudly laughs while leaning over to give a view of his bright beam. “Unlike the song though, I do not plan to try to stay in the locker room.”
“The thought never crossed my mind,” lovingly gets softly spoken. “You in tonight?”
“I am.”
“Cali’s…what…fourth in the conference?”
“They’ll be fifth when we’re done with ‘em.”
“Love the rizz.”
“Hate how you sound like Bronny.”
“I-” a gasp over the view of the stairs cuts off my rebuttal. “Rose petals?!” Disbelief paralyzes me in place. “There’s a path of rose petals leading to our room?!”
“Don’t worry,” Jukes brushes off and picks up the device again. “Sofie’ll be by again tomorrow while you’re at work to handle the mess.” My mouth barely twitches before he’s adding, “For extra pay.”
How is one human always so fucking thoughtful?
“I uh…came to that conclusion kinda late,” the man I love confesses during my ascending.
“Got the idea together, bought all the stuff I could, ordered everything else, was feelin’ like Johnny Cash winnin’ a grammy for ‘A Boy Named Sue’ when it hit me that I wasn’t gonna be home to decorate…
or…clean up.” A bashful scratch to the back of his neck occurs.
“That whole do first, think second thing, got one by me again.”
“It often does.”
Which is why we have a giant bird feeder in the backyard meant to entice Owlfonso to come live here despite the fact owls don’t eat bird seeds.
Yes.
His impulsiveness is charming yet dangerous.
Great for the game.
Not necessarily always a win in our relationship.
I have not enjoyed calling the exterminator for what I fear might be a mice infestation.
Arrival in our bedroom – a label I’ve just naturally used since the first time I slept in the space – reveals to me not only the end of the trail but a rolled out red carpet to the California king where there are two objects splayed out for me.
One wrapped.
One simply displayed on a fancy hanger.
“Go on,” Jukes encourages, face watching my face admire everything, “pick it up.”
I carefully lift the silk black robe, awe once again returning to my expression.
“And turn it around.”
The quick spinning reveals the term “Slayer” in gems, successfully taking away whatever breath I had managed to gather.
“Protective gear for those mornings Bronskie forgets to sleep in.”
Giggles are accompanied by an amused headshake.
“See,” he playfully taps his temple, “I can think before I act.” A good-natured eye roll precedes him kicking his chin forward. “And now the other.”
Post gingerly returning the piece of clothing to the mattress, I retrieve the small item, wrapped in bright yellow paper. In a mirthful manner, I wiggle the object around and taunt, “The paper matches your socks, aye?”
“Intentional.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah.” His purple suit jacket covered shoulders innocently bounce. “Gettin’ my Smokey Robinson on.”
Quirking an eyebrow can’t be helped.
“’Being With You’.”
Another round of coos escapes; although these are followed by propping the phone on its bedside stand – an accessory gifted to me by Joey who swears it’s what she gives to all the new Slayers whether they’re new because they just started dating a player or just got traded here because it doesn’t matter who you are.
Hands free to have conversations is nice.
Jukes excitedly watches my childlike enthusiasm of ripping open the only physical gift I got today, frame leaned so close to the phone I swear he’s trying to climb through it.
I let the paper carelessly fall to my feet, shift the lid on the box, and gasp at the beautiful, platinum jukebox necklace inside.
“This way…” Thayne slowly begins pulling my wide-eyed gaze up to his glowing one, “I’m always with you.”
There’s no stopping my shoulders from slumping or me melting onto the bed or my own figure from trying to crawl through the phone like his.
“Will you put it on for me?” He sweetly inquires. “I know my wingspan is bigger than most, but it ain’t exactly that big.”
Girlish giggles are all I seem to be capable of.
Words do what they often do.
Escape me.
Him?
He’ll say anything and everything and it’s almost always perfect.
I get nervous or tongue tied or too afraid I’ll ruin something – or more accurately everything.
Especially with him.
He always trusts his vibe.
His instinct.
I still haven’t quite mastered the art of listening to mine.
Out of the dental suite, at least.
The instant the accessory is secured around my neck, he cautiously croaks, “Like it?”
“Love it.” My fingers mindlessly toy with the pendant. “And I love you so so much.”
“Dance with me?” escapes on a sweet, boyish grin at the same time he fidgets with something on the screen. Familiar notes suddenly seep out of our bedroom speakers and romantic lighting swiftly comes next. “Thought we could stay in the spirit of Stevie tonight.”
“Taking him between the pipes?”
“He’s done so many good duets.”
“Favorite?”
“Ooof,” he grumbles out as we stand together in tandem, “Paul McCartney is up there,” the phone slightly adjusts, “MJ,” our frames rhythmically begin swaying together in spite of being miles apart, “hell, Bill Withers. All of which will make an appearance with me out there tonight.”
“I love that you love music so much.”
“And I…” Jukes goofily starts singing, “just called…”
We finish the chorus to the song together.
While “I Just Called to Say I Love You” is about not needing a reason for calling – something that absolutely resonates with us – I am ecstatic he went out of his way to call all day.
To be with me in spite of not getting to be with me.
For the first time in thirty-nine years – fuckme I had forgotten I tacked on a new number – my birthday truly comes first.
I come first.
And that is the best gift I could ever ask.