23. “Space Age Love Song”
Chapter 23
“Space Age Love Song”
Sascha - Age 18, 1988
M y body is exhausted, and my muscles ache, but it’s a satisfying soreness. Memories of nights spent tangled up with Taz fill my mind, and the physical reminder of our intense connection lingers between my legs. We’ve been like this every night for a week now, sometimes multiple times in one night. It must be his endurance as a hockey player, or perhaps all eighteen-year-old men have an insatiable drive. I don’t have much experience to compare it to.
Luckily, my parents’ hearing isn’t what it used to be. But despite the risks, the sex is beyond incredible. And when we’re not lost in each other’s bodies, we spend our late nights indulging in snacks and laughing until our stomachs ache.
But when morning comes, and we have to face the real world, I instinctively pull away from Taz. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I see the curious look in his eyes when I step away from him too quickly.
I find myself acting aloof in public, unsure of the reasons why. Perhaps it’s because I relish our secluded world, a bubble where we can release all inhibitions and be our true weird selves without judgment from others.
But deep down, I know it’s also because I’m afraid of getting hurt. Keeping him at a physical distance is my way of keeping him at an emotional distance, which is safer. Graduation is approaching, prom is next week—reminders that everything has an ending date, and soon. It’s easier this way, with no unrealistic expectations that could lead to heartache.
As always, Taz takes on the role of chef for Sunday brunch with my parents. He insists it’s his way of repaying them for their kindness. Although they never expect it, they always enjoy these small gatherings over delicious food.
Taz isn’t working at the hotel anymore, having given it up to focus on his grades and hockey. He said hockey was a faster way to get the money back that was taken from him. I can’t even think about it, or I get so angry that I want to hit his brother with my flute.
My stomach full and content from a delicious Belgian waffle topped with plump blueberries and clouds of whipped cream. I join him at the sink to wash dishes. Our hips brush against each other as we stand side by side, both focused on the task at hand. “Hey, are you coming with me to visit Gram today?” he asks, breaking the comfortable silence between us.
“Of course I am!” I reply eagerly. “If we ever stop being friends, I get custody of Ida in the divorce.”
He laughs and playfully sprays me with water from the sink. “I can’t say I blame you,” he says with a mischievous grin.
We balance our plates of pastries, along with some old romance novels my mom wanted to give to Gram. Taz wasn’t thrilled about it, but I’ve been teasing him about not forgetting that she’s still a woman with desires and needs.
As he approaches the front desk to sign in, his eyes scan the crisp white sheet before stopping on something that catches his attention. He looks over at me with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “You came to visit Gram?” His words are filled with warmth and familiarity.
I can’t help but smile as I reply, “Sure did. You were away for hockey, and I wanted to keep Gram company while playing some Gin and indulging in some eclairs.” It suddenly dawns on me that I never actually asked him if it was okay for me to visit, and I feel a twinge of guilt for possibly overstepping.
“Is that alright with you?” I ask tentatively.
A warm smile spreads across his face as he walks over and presses a sweet kiss on top of my head. “It’s more than okay.” His words bring a sense of relief and happiness to me.
Some of the Golden Gossip Girls are sitting in the entry area playing cards, and they witness the sweet gesture. This will be the most exciting news to hit the hallways since Mrs. Skinner got a new hip.
We enter Gram’s room and find her peacefully sleeping, her untouched breakfast tray on the table beside her bed. The room is filled with a comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and lavender-scented lotion.
Taz bends down and presses his lips against her temple, tenderly waking her from slumber. Her voice emerges in a low croak as she asks, “What time is it?”
“It’s almost 10:30, sleepy head,” Taz replies warmly. “We brought your favorite pink box of goodies.”
“We?” she murmurs, still groggy. “Is Sascha here?”
Stepping to the side, Taz reveals me standing behind him. A jolt of joy shoots through her as her eyes light up, and she reaches for my hand. “Hello, dear girl,” she greets me warmly.
With a gentle smile, I bend down to greet her. Her skin is soft and warm as I kiss her cheek.
“It’s so good to see you,” she says. “Why don’t I freshen up first and then we can catch up?”
With a nod, she shuffles off toward the restroom, her footsteps slow but steady.
The soft hum of the electric kettle fills the kitchen as Taz places pastries onto plates. “Does she look alright to you?” he asks, breaking the silence.
I consider for a moment before replying, “She seems fine. Maybe just a little groggy from being woken up.”
Taz’s brow furrows in concern. “She doesn’t usually sleep this late.”
“Maybe she was out late at a rave last night,” I joke. Taz chuckles and relaxes as Ida reappears, and we resume our normal Sunday rituals—chatting, sipping tea, indulging in goodies, and playing cards. Being invited to participate in the Tazman family’s weekend traditions has become one of my favorite days of the week.
“So, prom is coming up soon,” Ida says.
“On Saturday,” I reply begrudgingly, my voice tinged with reluctance. Dances have never been my thing, but our friends insisted we all go together. Maybe it will be fun.
My eyes flicker to Taz, who looks like a deer caught in headlights at the mention of the dance. We’re not going as a couple, just friends. I can tell he’s not thrilled about it, but he’s following the plan.
“Did you buy Sascha a beautiful corsage, Michael?” Ida asks with a hint of teasing in her tone.
His cheeks turn pink, and he stammers out a response. “We’re all just going as friends,” I interject.
Ida purses her lips. “I don’t understand kids,” she comments. “In my day, we went on proper dates.”
Taz lets out a booming laugh from his spot on the couch. “Yeah, and you probably rode to the dance in a horse-drawn carriage too.”
Ida playfully swats at him before turning back to me. “What color dress are you wearing, dear?” she asks, genuinely curious.
I smile and tell her about the deep purple dress I picked for the occasion.
“And I’m wearing a purple tuxedo,” Taz chimes in with a grin, causing me to roll my eyes. He had no idea what I’d wear when he chose his outlandish suit, but now we will match perfectly.
“Make sure you capture plenty of photos,” she says with a wink.
“We will definitely make sure to document this momentous occasion,” I reply with a laugh.
Despite our nice time visiting Gram on Sunday afternoon, this week has been unbalanced with Taz. His normally carefree demeanor is marred with an underlying tension that I can’t quite put my finger on. We all know that our senior year is ending, and it’s time to start thinking about the future, but Taz is particularly burdened by something. I’ve brought it up, but he brushes it off, reassuring me that everything is fine and he’s just worried about college. Then he pulls me into his warm embrace and kisses me until I can’t think straight.
But tonight is prom night, a chance to let go of our worries and simply have fun with our friends. We’re meeting at Ivy’s house soon, but I’ve planned a special surprise for Taz before that.
As I finish getting ready, excitement bubbles in my chest. My parents’ car pulls into the driveway, signaling the successful completion of our secret mission.
Glancing out the window, I watch my dad rush to the passenger side and help Ida out of the car. She stands with his strong arms supporting her, her tiny bird-bone fingers gripping him for support.
Once she’s standing tall, my mom comes around from the back of the car with her walker.
When I first asked about taking Ida out of the facility for the afternoon, the staff emphasized the importance of using her walker. That went over about as well as an ice sale in Alaska, but eventually, she agreed.
As they make their way through the front door, I march next door to Taz’s room. He answers my knock, looking disheveled in his tuxedo pants and open dress shirt. My eyes wander down his chest before I shake myself out of my lustful thoughts. There’s no time for that now.
My voice stammers as I meet his piercing gaze, a flutter somersaulting in my stomach. He smirks at me, causing a rush of heat to flood my cheeks. “Hurry up and come downstairs,” I manage to say, trying to play it cool.
“Why?” he asks, lifting one eyebrow accusingly as his interest is piqued.
“Don’t ask questions,” I reply, my heart racing with anticipation. “Just come on.” I turn to walk away, but his strong grip catches my wrist, pulling me back toward him. He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on every curve and detail of my appearance.
“You look stunning, Sash,” he says softly, his words igniting warmth in my chest. For a moment, I am lost in the sweetness of his compliment before snapping back to reality.
“Thank you,” I respond, biting my lip nervously. “Now hurry up!” My urgency returns as I remember the reason for our haste.
Taz descends the staircase a few minutes later, his bowtie dangling from his hand. “Hey, can someone lend me a hand with this?” he asks before abruptly stopping at the sight of his grandmother sitting beside me on the couch.
“Gram!” he exclaims, rushing over to envelop her in a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Sascha planned an evening out for me,” she answers sweetly.
Taz’s expression shifts from confusion to delight as she continues, “I’m here to see you off to prom, and then we are going to have a lovely meal at that charming Italian restaurant I’ve always liked. Goodness. I haven’t been there in years.”
“And then we’ll make sure she gets home safely,” my mom says reassuringly.
Taz’s face lights up with gratitude and excitement. His voice trembles with emotion as he thanks me and my parents. A glimmer of tears shines in his eyes, but he quickly composes himself, and we spend the next fifteen minutes capturing memories with photos.
His smile radiates pure joy, accentuated by the soft light of the setting sun streaming in from the windows. Time stands still as we bask in the warmth of the moment.