Page 172 of Wicked Fantasies

“Dammit, Troy. What the heck is going on with you today? I thought we were coming home to visit our parents and hang out with some friends. Next thing I know you’ve kidnapped me from my mom’s house and are tormenting me with pressies I can’t open.”

He laughed. “I’d hardly call that a kidnapping. You walked to the truck under your own steam. And you can open the present in a few minutes. Just want to be in the right place when you do it.”

She looked out the window at the familiar streets and tried to determine where his so-called “right place” was. Their hometown wasn’t that big and it seemed to be one of those magical places time never touched. Main Street looked very much as it had when she grew up here, only perhaps a bit better. In the last year or two, the city council had begun a beautification program and all the older historical buildings were getting touch-ups of paint and much-needed repairs.

As they passed the courthouse and turned left, Troy’s destination became clear. “Carlysle High?”

He nodded, pulling into the parking lot in front of the school. The last bell for the day had rung and they sat in silence for several moments, watching as all the teens rushed for buses and cars, intent on beginning their weekend rituals.

When the parking lot was almost completely clear, he turned to her. “Happy anniversary, Faith.”

Her brows lowered. “Our wedding anniversary isn’t until next Tuesday.”

He shrugged. “It’s close enough. I wanted to celebrate it with you here.”

“At the high school?”

He chuckled. “No, here. In Carlylse. Home.”

She smiled at his words. “This place hasn’t been home in nearly thirteen years.”

“It’ll always be home. Too much of our lives happened here for it to be anything else.”

She nodded, knowing he was right. Then, he picked up the present and she blushed. “I feel terrible. I didn’t get you anything yet.”

Truth be told, she hadn’t planned on buying him much more than a card. After twenty-five years of marriage, a simple card exchange and dinner out had sort of become their standard routine. There wasn’t too much that either of them really wanted and with two kids in college, spending money on anything frivolous seemed like too much of a waste.

“You give me plenty, Faith,” he said, tapping her nose playfully, and she had to take a quick breath to fight back the tears at his unexpected, sweet comment. She loved her husband and she knew for a fact that he loved her, but neither of them spoke in flowery phrases. Every night of their lives together, they’d kissed good-night and said the words, “love you,” but after awhile, the meaning behind the words was lost in the rote pattern.

Looking down, she carefully opened the beautifully wrapped package. Pulling off the lid and digging into the tissue paper, she was surprised to find a photo album. She started to open the cover, but Troy’s hand covered hers.

“You can only look at the first page,” he said.

She looked up, the question in her eyes, but he didn’t give her time to voice it.

“This is only the first stop in our celebration. One page for each place. I’ll tell you when you can turn the page.”

She looked at him for several moments, trying to assimilate this man and this incredibly romantic gesture with the easygoing guy who’d been leaving wet towels on her bathroom floor year after year.

Opening the photo album to the first page, she saw a picture of her and Troy the night of their senior prom. They hadn’t come to the dance together, but they’d certainly left the gym hand in hand. His original date had come down with the flu, canceling the morning of. She’d come with Travis Scottsdale, her first semi-serious boyfriend and asshole of the century. Ten minutes after arriving at the dance, he told her he wanted to break up with her, leaving her sitting alone while he proceeded to make out in the corner with Amber Cooper.

“Oh my gosh. Look at us. We’re so young.”

“And sweaty,” Troy joked. “We danced our asses off that night.”

“It didn’t help that the AC in the gym didn’t work.” Faith grinned at the memory.

“Must’ve been at least a hundred degrees in there.”

Faith looked back at the photograph. “Where did you get this picture? I’ve never seen it.”

“It was in the pocket of that letter jacket. I can’t remember exactly where I got it. I think Judy Hayes gave it to me a couple weeks after the dance. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to pass it along to you.”

“And obviously you forgot.” Forgetting little things was a special talent of Troy’s. She always had to remind him it was garbage day or to stop on the way home from work to pick up the dry cleaning.

Troy shrugged. “I was a teenage boy falling in love for the first time. Believe me, I was not about to give up that picture. I looked at it all the time.”

This time, she couldn’t hold back the tears his kind words provoked.

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