Chapter 21
Wizard
I knew that Esme was taking me to something in Seattle, but I had no idea a place like this even existed.
According to the brochure I have clutched in my hand, Washington Park is two hundred and thirty acres.
It promises that we’ll see world class plants and trees, as well as scenic walkways complete with cobblestone bridges.
There’s even a Japanese Garden that you can pay extra to see.
Within just a few moments of walking Azalea Way, I’ve seen flowering trees, dogwoods, and more flowers than I can keep straight.
Esme brought me to a massive garden.
We amble along the trail, sharing it with other people walking, running, jogging, and biking.
Every so often, stone or wooden benches line the paved pathway, and flowers give way to twisting ponds featuring little islands with trees.
This one has two small water jets in the center that spray a continuous stream of droplets.
They prism in the sunlight, ending in a smattering of rainbows.
The whole place smells like heaven. Fresh and floral, musky and woodsy, mossy and crisp.
The foliage is quite green since it’s summer. I can’t imagine how gorgeous it would be in the fall. We’ll definitely have to come back when the trees turn all the varying shades of copper and scarlet.
My smile is slow in appearing, but only because I’ve probably rocked a look of sheer wonder since we parked my bike in the lot and set foot on one of the many paths into this place.
Esme knows me down to my soul. She tried to think what would make me happy, where I’d be the most comfortable, and what would move me so damn hard that I can’t even find words. She’s succeeded already, and as we pulled up, she told me that this was just the start of my surprise.
I rush ordered motorcycle boots for her a few days ago.
It was worth every cent to get them here in time for our ride.
Willa surprised us both with a gorgeous caramel, buttery soft vintage leather bomber jacket.
It fits Esme just right, settling on her shoulders and nipping in at her tiny waist. She wore jeans for the bike ride.
The jacket is open, since it’s not the warmest day today, with a cool breeze blowing.
It tosses the dark strands of her hair, and with her dark eyes glowing as she looks over at me, she’s breathtaking.
We switched out our boots for sneakers for the walk.
I left everything on my bike in the parking lot, including our helmets and the saddlebags, and I’m really hoping that our gear is there when we get back.
At least we have our backpacks with us. I was willing to risk not putting thirty pounds of boots onto Esme’s back, but not our change of clothes.
“This is the most wonderful place on earth.” I realize how silly that sounds and laugh at myself.
“I mean, probably. It’s pretty incredible.
” I’m so ridiculously happy. Part of that happiness comes with an edge where I’m afraid that it could all disappear, but it’s a normal fear.
It’s okay to be afraid of losing the people that you love, as long as it doesn’t overwhelm or consume.
Her gaze sweeps to mine. Our hands are joined between us, and she picks up mine and grazes her lips over my knuckles.
My heart practically arrests. She does that.
Often. Drops little kisses over our hands, along my neck, all over my face.
Once she unlocked that in herself, she’s been absolutely unafraid to give me physical affection.
I’ve had to chant my mantra over and over in my head. Slow, slow, slow, take it slow. I want to enjoy every minute of this with her and not rush anything, but it’s hard when she’s my dream come true.
We’re standing in the middle of the walking path, but after checking that no one is coming, she cups my face and drags it down to hers.
She kisses me, lingering on my lips, breathing the same air.
She kisses me like that’s what she’s been waiting the entire time to give me.
Her lips move against mine, slow and wondrous, then warming up and coming alive and kissing me a little bit deeper and with more hunger, as though she’ll never get enough.
“I made our reservation, but we’re allowed to check in whenever we want. We can stay here all night. At least, until we get hungry.”
I barely stop myself from telling her what I’m starving for. It doesn’t involve food, unless it’s food and her, maybe at the same time.
“Mm.” That soft mumble is all I can get out while we fall in step beside each other again, our hands still locked together.
Our shoulders brush. Sometimes our legs do.
It doesn’t throw us off balance or wreck our pace.
It feels like our bodies can’t bear to be separated for more than a few seconds.
“This was so thoughtful,” I say, when I can order my thoughts into something coherent.
“I can’t believe you did this for me. It’s wonderful. ”
“You’re wonderful.” She says that with a sense of awe, not throwing back my words flippantly or jokingly.
She twists to look at me as we walk. It’s overcast, a few rays of sunlight peek out from under the scattered cloud cover.
They catch on her face, highlighting the curve of her cheekbone, her jaw, her lips, the honey spokes and amber flecks swimming in a sea of soft brown in her eyes.
I wish I could photograph her like this, or draw her.
Hang her up on the wall and frame the soft happiness that makes her astoundingly gorgeous.
She smiles so wide that her eyes crinkle. My heart trips and tumbles.
“I thought so hard about what place would be perfect. I wanted to take you somewhere that had meaning. A place that we could remember forever as ours.”
My heart swells harder, growing too large for my chest to contain it. There are some things that are more magical if they go unsaid and are just felt. The way the air shimmers between us, I have no doubt that she feels some of that too, and that she understands.
Her hand squeezes mine as I memorize every detail of her, surrounded by this gorgeous scenery. If it’s possible to burn something into your brain forever, I know this will be with me in vivid, bold detail, for the rest of my life.
We walk for fifteen or twenty minutes in comfortable silence.
I take in every tree, every plant, every flower.
I wonder at the arrangements and their care.
If some plants like to be beside others.
Grandpa tried to teach me all of that. How to companion plant.
How to scale your garden, how to plan ahead for the plants that need shade and sun.
When he wasn’t physically gardening, he was living it mentally, going through each and every detail over and over. It brought him so much joy.
I feel some of that right now. It’s not just the towering trees, lush grass, and gorgeous flowers that I’m taking in. All my memories sit with me too, Esme in a good portion of them.
Whatever weight I might have been carrying on my shoulders when we got here bleeds away. I’m weightless. Not floating but suspended in the timelessness of this.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I keep repeating in my head.
I could drown in all of this, in Esme, happily.
By the time we’re well down the path, I’m delirious with happiness.
We haven’t needed to fill the time or our steps with words.
This is a place that transcends the need for language.
It feels way more like we’re communicating with our souls.
With soft blinks, little smiles, with our hands joined, and our bodies swaying together.
I want us to be forever. I think that started a long time ago, maybe even the day we met, but our time at the cabin and this walk are a thousand more steps along that path when I was only ever able to take a few faltering ones in that direction before.
We reach a loop in the path, and I swing us around to start the very slow amble back to the parking lot.
I wish we had more time, but I’m aware that we left a little later than I wanted to, and after the long ride getting here, it’s already past dinner.
Esme will say that she doesn’t care, and while I want to stretch this out for hours yet, I don’t want her to be hungry.
I’m not sure what she has planned, but we could come back tomorrow.
She seems content to let me take the lead and steer us where I will. We walk back even more slowly. I don’t take out my phone once. I want to frame all of this in my mind because a photo would never do it justice.
At the parking lot, Esme hedges a little at the bike. Thankfully, everything is still exactly as I left it. She takes off her sneakers and pulls on the motorcycle boots, then zips up her jacket.
“I booked us a bed and breakfast,” she says, so quickly that her words run together.
“I might have got us the honeymoon suite. I just don’t want you to be surprised about that, if we get there and we’re greeted like a married couple.
I… just wanted you to have everything to make this special.
Flowers. Petals. Chocolate. Champagne. Strawberries.
Breakfast in bed and a massive tub in the room.
The full package deal. I didn’t know how to get that unless I got that package.
But uh… you might have to play along. I’m sorry if that’s weird. ”
I’m shocked. Not at the depth of thought she put into this, or that she wanted to make it special for me, but… I—I guess I’m not really sure what I’m surprised at. I’m happy surprised, though. I laugh, then take her hands. “I’m not mad. That sounds perfect.”
Half of me wants to protest that she didn’t need to shell out money for this.
She insisted that she’d pay for the hotel.
She didn’t tell me that it was a bed and breakfast and that she’d sprung for what is probably their most expensive package.
She did that for me, for our night away.
I’m not going to stand here and convince myself that I’m not worth it.
It’s the fact that she thinks I am that bowls me over.
I bring my face to hers and kiss her thoroughly. It’s perfect. It tastes like tomorrow, like a promise, like a magical night together. Like moments that I’ll cherish into infinity. It tastes like her giving me the best of the past and offering up her whole heart clutched in trembling palms.
I kiss her until we’re both breathless, and even then, I can’t bring myself to let her go. We stand together, our bodies pressed up against each other. I know we can’t stand here all day, so reluctantly, I pull away. I kiss her forehead one more time before getting my phone out of my pocket.
I unlock it and pass it over. “Want to put in the address for me?” I have my earbuds so the phone can read off the GPS directions into my ear while I’m riding and I won’t need to look at it and get distracted.
She types something and passes the phone back.
I blink when I realize what I’m looking at. A blank notes page with text that blurs until I blink even harder, over and over, to clear my vision. She’s written everything she couldn’t say, but I was listening. I was paying attention to the subtext.
The park is amazing, but you look like the whole world. I can’t wait to take you for dinner and to spend the rest of the night with you and wake up beside you tomorrow morning.
I open my arms and Esme falls into me. I wrap her up tight. It’s another long while before I can bring myself to even think of detaching. She’s content to stand in the circle of my arms, and I’m more than content to hold her. That’s not even the right word. I’m so amazed, overwhelmed, and honored.
I don’t care if anyone stares, or if we look funny, or even crazy. I’m excited to get to our room too and have our time alone together, but it can definitely wait just a few more minutes.
You look like the whole world.
I can’t believe she wrote that. About me. It’s exactly how I feel about her too.