43. Opaline
Opaline
"Whatcha got there?" Everette's voice is a whisper against the night, but still makes me jump out of my skin all the same. "Shit," he chuckles. "I didn't mean to scare you that much. Just wanted to spook you a little. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
With a hand over my heart, I push out a deep exhale and smile as my own personal walking sunshine comes to join me. "Hi, my love. What are you doing up?"
"Woke up and realized you weren't in the nest and had a feeling to come find you. Your scent led me outside."
My heart turns to goo at his expression and the love emanating from him.
Taking a second, I go on, "It's a postcard, actually.
" He stays silent, cat-like feet carrying him closer.
"I don't know what to write, though," I say softly, contemplating where to go next.
"Calder bought it for me on our first date in town, when I first got here. "
"It's gorgeous. Who's it for?" He asks. I guess, given his knowledge of my history and the fact that all of my friends live in the same town as us, me wanting to mail a mysterious postcard doesn't make much sense.
I tilt my head, taking a moment and avoiding the question temporarily. "Do you know this lake? Is it somewhere here?" I look up at him as he tucks me against his side, taking a seat.
"Hmm…may I?" Nodding, I push the small cardstock closer to him.
He studies it, angled to attract the dancing light.
"Oh, yeah, actually. I think I do. It's about two hours from here, hidden away in winding roads near another small mountain town.
About halfway to the closest ski town. They uh," he huffs a laugh, lips tilting.
"They do car races over the lake in the dead of Winter, every year. "
"On the lake?" I ask, eyes wide. "How do they know the ice is thick enough? Like actual CARS?"
His chest vibrates with a laugh, smile wide. "Yeah, actual cars. It's a whole event. It's pretty fun, though. We get inventive with things to do in the Winter up here," he winks. "Maybe we can go this year?"
"I'd love to! That sounds so fun." And really, I would.
The idea that people race cars on a frozen lake seems unbelievable, albeit more than a little dangerous.
We gaze at each other for what might feel like too long to anyone else.
But, all I can do it smile, watching his pupils grow larger the longer he traces my face.
"Thank you," I whisper, leaning up for a kiss.
The weight of those two words and the depth of emotion behind them sits like a rock on my chest.
"For what?" He whispers, matching me.
Smile growing, I keep it simple. "Everything."
We stay like this, cuddled up for several minutes, in silence. Neither of us rushing to move or speak again. Everette carries a level of peace with him that I can't explain if I tried. It's just a feeling of home, calm, love…all in one perfect man.
"I wish my mom had the chance to meet you all," I start, feeling my throat grow thick again. "It's so strange even after all this time, I still feel like I'm grieving her."
"Mmm, is Mom who the postcard is for?" he asks gently.
Nodding in response, he continues after I stay silent, feeling a little silly and embarrassed that I bought a postcard for a dead person.
"It's okay to also grieve the loss that comes with her passing.
The moments you never got to share, like us meeting.
That grief and processing are just as important.
" His lips meet my temple, arm tight around me, holding me close.
I nod, considering the truth of his words.
"I miss moments we shared, watching the stars, just like this.
No matter what else was going on, those moments together just felt like it'd all be okay.
" I smile happily at the memory. "Thank you for sitting with me.
It means so much to share this with you, too. " It means everything, really.
"Trust me, little omega. There's nowhere I'd rather be."
I hum. "Ya know what's crazy?"
"What's that?" he says, warm hand stroking my side over the blanket.
"Shooting stars are supposed to be so rare.
But… I've seen so many, I genuinely have lost count.
Even after she passed, I kept seeing them.
Maybe even more-so." I pause, eyes scanning the sky above instinctively.
"I've always let myself have the notion that maybe it's her, showing me she's here with me, a reminder that I was never really alone, even after she died.
" My throat closes at the thought, wet heat building and trying to escape my blinking eyes.
"Oh, my sweet girl. She is with you." He squeezes me closer for a moment, taking a breath.
"You know, when I was younger, we had a neighbor I grew fond of and used to spend a lot of time with before we moved.
She was an older woman with a long grey braid that reached her mid thigh.
" His voice and cadence are so soothing, calming me just listening.
"She always wore a ton of turquoise jewelry I thought was so pretty.
It became my favorite color for a long time," he chuckles fondly, like he's maybe replaying moments with her in his mind.
"For years and years, we'd chat and spend time together, even play board games and cards.
She'd kind of drop these one-liners or bits of wisdom.
Most of which, at the time, had kind of gone over my head.
But, I always remember how I felt when I was with her.
I think my time with her opened my eyes to more than I realized, paving the way to who I am now.
I've kept some of her insight and sage advice tucked away and think about them every so often as they come to me.
" He rests his head atop mine, nuzzling into my hair, probably chilled from the night air.
"She and her family, her ancestors, believed that the stars were sentient and always listening.
The sky, nature, and the universe its own godly being.
Even that different parts of our bodies held their own spirits that needed love and attention.
But, I believe, when things get too heavy, the stars are always there ready to guide you, waiting to offer up their own special signs.
For others, they might gravitate towards trees or even the soil and plants, the ocean.
When we sit with ourselves and really listen, really try to open and connect, it makes it easier to see and hear what they're saying. In moments like these with ourselves."
Pulling back, I sniffle, trying to stop the tears and nod. "I love that. She sounds wonderful and very wise."
"She was," he smiles softly. "Maybe…this is a time you start writing about where your heart feels heaviest. Maybe it isn't about just telling her how much you miss and love her.
She already knows that. Maybe this is your chance to release some of the weight that lives here…
" His hand reaches around, the weight of it rubbing soothingly over my heart.
I shake my head, forcing my lips to stay in place and not shake, in sheer awe of this man. "God, Everette. I love you so much. I wish I could just have five minutes with her again to tell her how happy I finally am, all thanks to finding each of you."
"She knows, sweetheart. She knows."
Pulling me into him, his lips land on mine in a soft kiss, a purr rattling to life, easing tension from my body as he holds me close.
"Do you have somewhere to mail it to?" he asks, tentatively.
"I don't know," I sigh, leaning back. "Sending it to our old house that I grew up in doesn't feel right. I don't want my father to see this. I hate just the thought of it. I'm not sure."
He hums, lost in thought, momentarily. "Well…tomorrow we have the 'Wants and Wishes Bonfire' at the Mountain Glow Festival. If mailing the postcard doesn't feel right, I mean, you could always bring it with you and let the fire deliver its ashes to her directly?"
As my sweet mate finishes his sentence a bright light and movement from my peripheral steals my attention, head swinging to the skies just in time to see a shooting star fly by.
My hand covers my mouth on a gasp, tears falling freely down my chilled cheeks.
"Well…" he laughs in disbelief of his own. "If I didn't know better, I'd think she was listening pretty intently, with us right now, sweetheart."
My face and weight crumple into his large frame as he holds my shaking, sobbing body against him with soft, reassuring words.
That single second was the confirmation I needed.
The one thing I truly needed in this moment.
I can't believe that just happened. Letting myself release the weight and heaviness that's been building for hours, or hell, even years, I let go and cry in his arms. His purr and gentle rocking are my reminder he's here; they all are.
Knowing that I'm not alone and never will be again feels like all the cracks in my chest are being mended with their bright love.
As the tears dry and my body starts to feel heavy, going limp in his hold, his quiet whisper to the sky is the last thing I hear before darkness and sleep take me.
"Thank you for the biggest gift I could have ever dreamt of, Mrs. Williams…
I promise we'll keep your daughter safe, loved unconditionally, and as happy as we can possibly make her. Thank you."