Chapter 33
KEATS
Shutters snap in a barrage of swift clicks.
The sound comes so fast that it used to freak me out when I’d be startled awake, but I’ve come to identify the rapid firing of Sosie’s camera.
Especially when the season changes or a storm rolls in, and the light is “just right” as she claims. I just wish I wasn’t her favorite subject.
“Are you taking photos of me again?” I peek out from under my arm I’ve draped across my forehead to block out the light.
“I am.” She doesn’t even try to hide it, which makes me chuckle.
The blinds should be down, but Sosie loves this early hour, the one after night has gone and morning hasn’t arisen.
She calls it the magic hour. The evening has the golden hour, so it only makes sense, I suppose.
The light is transformed for such a short time that she tries to take full advantage of the fleeting change.
“Truthfully, how many photos does one person need of another?”
Another round of lightning-fast clicks sounds before I feel the dip of the mattress.
She rolls to her back and lies next to me, making this my favorite time of day as well.
She’s naked beside me. Reaching over, I run my hand over her bare breast before encountering cold metal and hard plastic.
She’s fallen asleep with it looped around her neck before, spent hours at her apartment developing photos late into the night, and taken thousands of photos of me for practice.
Though I suspect there were nefarious intentions all along when she started creating a wallpaper from the photos of me in the bedroom of the other apartment.
Sometimes I really regret buying that camera.
But for her, I’ll continue endure this form of torture because it makes her happy.
I roll to my side and kiss her temple. “How long have you been awake?”
“A few hours.” Her eyes close, the lack of sleep catching up with her just as I’m waking. Timing hasn’t always been our friend. I complain, but I love that she’s so passionate about what she does. And her talent blows me away on the regular.
The entry is now a gallery of her photos, and the hallway is lined with framed artwork.
I hadn’t realized how bland this apartment was until her vivid personality filled it with color and made it a home.
I’ve never been one for clutter, but I come to enjoy finding random items appear here or there, then they’re gone, replaced by another, or the surface is left bare.
Sosie can hardly keep her eyes open, so this erection will get attention tonight when she gets home from work.
I take the wide fabric strap from around her neck and slip it off to set her camera on the nightstand.
She moves into position, snuggling against me as if seeking warmth, her breathing deepening already a sign of her sweet slumber.
How did I get this life?
I hustled to get out of the neighborhood I grew up in.
Right time, right place to meet the professor to get a shot at university, then spent years pouring my emotions, that had nowhere else to go, into the pages of a book releasing in a few months.
But this . . . Her. I hold her closer wanting to feel her heat, her heartbeats, and hear the rhythm of her breathing.
In a city of eight million people, how was I fortunate enough to find my soulmate?
That’s the only thing I couldn’t control or create my way into, but damn, did I luck out.
She shifts, and the sheet slips off her hip, revealing that freckle I’ll never get enough of. I thought about it more times than would be considered healthy. Maybe it’s because the only way to see it is when she’s naked. Win-win.
I reach for the camera and take a couple of photos of my favorite thing—Sosie and that freckle. I set it back down, wanting to sleep some more with her, but I need to get a run in before I start work. And since she tried running with me twice and told me she’s sticking to yoga, I’m on my own.
Despite the claims, the summer wool isn’t thick enough to wick the moisture from my sweating palms, so I shove my hands in my pockets instead.
Not sure why I’m nervous. It’s my mom, not a stranger.
This shouldn’t be a big deal. But we both know it is.
So when I’m led to the table where she’s been seated, I catch a glimpse of her fidgeting with the napkin right before she sees me.
I move to her side of the table. “Hi, Mom,” I say, giving her a quick hug, easygoing but not over the top. We’re not there yet. But I hold out hope.
“Keats, you look so handsome.”
“Thanks.” I sit across from her and drag my napkin into my lap. “You look nice. I like that hairstyle on you.”
“Oh, this.” Her eyes dart to the table as she maintains a softer smile.
We don’t really look much alike, except in the obvious traits like hair and skin tone.
We’re similar in other ways like stocking pasta and turning off unnecessary lights.
But that’s more from lifestyle than anything else.
After taking a sip of water, she says, “I just celebrated one year at the distribution center. I got a nice bonus and raise.”
I knew she was working steadily for the first time in a long time. But I also see it in the clarity of her eyes. She looks healthy and not too thin like she used to be.
The server stops by to take drink orders, but she orders an iced tea, so I do the same. As soon as we’re alone, she says, “I don’t drink anymore.”
“Oh. Was that your choice?”
“It was something I decided was needed. So I gave it up, and within two weeks, Miller did the same.” There’s a wistfulness to her gaze when she looks around the restaurant.
“It wasn’t doing me any favors but it’s also been easier with a partner who supports you.
” It is. I know firsthand. I couldn’t ask for someone to believe in me more than Sosie does.
She laughs like she’s remembering an inside joke.
I never cared much for him, but I didn’t give myself a chance to get to know him either.
I probably should if he’s giving up drinking to be with my mom.
“We even started walking after dinner and bought some hand weights we use at the apartment.”
“I can see the change. It sounds weird, but there’s more light to you, brighter eyes and a glow. I’m proud of you.”
The words cause her chin to tremble, and she grasps her clasped hands to her chest. “You don’t know what it means to hear you say that, Keats.
” She reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers.
“I failed you as a mother. You practically raised yourself, but it’s hard to look at all your success and wish to change anything.
But selfishly, I would if I could. I’d snap myself out of the daze I was living in sooner, go back to school, and even learn to cook a proper meal for my kid. ”
If she had said these things to me when I was a teen or even in my early twenties, I would have given her a chance.
It’s been years since then, since I spared my own feelings by isolating myself.
But when I sit across from her like I am now, I can feel the need that little boy in me still has.
Fuck my dad, but I miss my mom. “It was hard back then. I don’t hold a grudge.
We can’t change it anyhow, only how we move forward. ”
“Can we move forward?”
“I’d like that, and to see you more often.” I grin involuntarily because Spark is my heart and soul. “And introduce you to Sosie.”
Sitting back, there’s an easiness that shapes her body language. I feel it too. She asks, “Is she a special someone in your life?”
“She’s my everything.”
The smile rolls in gradually, but happiness is exuded in her eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Trust me, I’m the lucky one.” I reach for my phone. “Want to see a picture?”
After dinner, we go for one of those walks she likes until we reach her subway station.
I didn’t dread seeing her. I’ve wanted her in my life, but I had concerns of being disappointed, of feeling like I might not matter.
Still. This meal changed everything for the better.
I think for her as well. There’s a road back that’s unexpected.
I want her to be a part of my life, and Sosie’s. “Hey Mom?”
We stop out of the path to the steps. She’s still smiling like she can’t believe she’s seeing me. I recognize it because I feel the same. I say, “I have a signing in a few months at the Barnes & Noble in Union Square. If you have time to stop by—”
“I’ll be there.” Like me, she’s not one to talk someone’s ear off, but what she says, she means. Tonight, the difference in her, and how our relationship has grown, is noticeable, so I know she won’t let me down. “I’ll put you on the guest list.”
I give her the type of hug I wanted growing up. The best part is that she returns it. “I love you, Keats. And I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.” When we release the embrace, she laughs as she starts down the steps. “Heaven knows I get no credit for it.”
“Sure you do. I wouldn’t be here without you.” When she glances back, the changes she’s made shine in her eyes, but it’s the joy she carries that reassures me she’s finally in a good place.
The sun hasn’t set since it’s the summer solstice, so it’s time to enact part two of my plan for the night. I would have thought I’d be more nervous. I’m not. This is right. The timing and the night.
Through the large panes of glass, paintings are mixed with photos hung on the gallery walls.
From the street view, it doesn’t take more than a glance to catch sight of my Sosie fluttering from one group of potential buyers to the next.
Champagne in hand, she laughs like she was never locked in a life she didn’t love.
Breezy happiness is what I sometimes call it. She makes everything better. Even molecules caught in her spotlight reorganize to stay there. I feel special by association, but that she chose me to love makes me a fucking hero.
Her lips twist, though it doesn’t hide her smile when she sees me.
A hand goes to her jeans-clad hip, and the cream-colored diamond-shaped fabric clings to her tits while showing off her arms and her stunning back.
Should I be jealous of the other men who get to take her in as well?
Nah, I’m the one who gets to unwrap that package later.
She holds up a finger and tells me to stay where I am.
I don’t mind being a voyeur as she zips across the room and whispers something in her coworker’s ear.
They both glance my way before giggling, making me chuckle under my breath.
The little top knot on her head reveals the cotton candy pink streaks she recently added to her hair, and bounces when she rushes out the door.
After a quick twirl, she lands right in my arms.
Her legs grip my center, her arms wrap around my neck, but it’s her lips that kiss me like she hasn’t seen me in a month when it’s only been a few hours that confirms this is right.
We are, together. Not that I needed reassurance.
I knew she was the one when we met and she asked me for my cigarette like she already owned it. She did, and me, from that moment on.
With a smile shining brighter than the North Star, she asks, “Do you know how much I missed you, Poet?”
“Since two this afternoon?” I deadpan.
She nods, tossing her head back freely in laughter. “It could have been thirty minutes ago, and I’d miss you the same.”
I study the sweet expression—the smile, those eyes that light up when I’m near, and the way she licks her lips after we kiss like she didn’t get enough the first time.
Her fascination with taking photos of me is quite the ego trip, but it’s her love for me that is always coming through. “I missed you, too.”
“Is that why you came to see me?”
Holding her up is easy, but I was built for loving her. “One of the reasons.”
A mischievous smirk slips into her fine features. “What’s another reason?”
“Do you remember I asked for a sign?” I set her down and caress her cheek. “One sign was all I needed.”
The memories steal her smile and drain the happiness from her eyes. “I remember.” She bites her bottom lip, but then says, “I cried for days, maybe months after you left. The tears just wouldn’t stop. I knew in my soul that we were supposed to be together.” And she calls me the romantic one.
“We’re together now, but you were with me all along.
A beacon for me to rely on. Every time we saw each other, every time we talked gave me the sign I needed to hold on, even when fate tried to keep us apart.
” I take her hand and twirl her out before bringing her back to me just to see her smile again and lead her into the empty cobblestone street to look up at the moon.
Her eyes glisten under clouds streaking across the deep blue skies as night bellows to greet us above the treetops of the West Village. I hold her hands in mine and do what I’ve always done—pour my heart into her.
“I was so fucking lonely, angry at the world for having to fight for everything I got. And then there was you, Sosie. A shining star. A muse in need of an artist to inspire. The most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on in a Jackson Pollock shirt, dark eyeliner, and combat boots, bumming a smoke from a server ducking out on his break. ”
“Sounds like kismet, Poet.”
“It sure was, and it changed my life for the better. You inspire me every day with the way you hold strength and still manage to stay soft at heart. I’ve said it before. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I must have been one helluva guy in a past life to get the reward in this one.”
Her bubbling laughter makes me think she’s onto me.
I’m not the best with secrets, always wearing my heart on my sleeve like she does.
Reaching up to run the tips of her fingers over my jaw, she says, “Oh, I definitely earned you in this life. So I’m not going to take one day for granted. I love you too much for that.”
“I love—”
A car horn blasts, sending my heart into orbit, just as the taxi’s headlights shine so bright that we run for the curb to avoid being blinded.
Laughing takes some of the heat off the situation and gives my chest time to retrieve my heart from outer space and calm down again.
As soon as I do, I reach into my pocket and drop to one knee before her because I just want to be married to this woman.
“Will you marry me, Spark? I promise to be the husband you deserve.”
She kisses me before the words leave my mouth, sealing the deal like our destiny always was. “Yes, Poet. I’ll marry you. You’ve always had my heart, so we might as well make it official.”