Page 95 of Don Caselli

I stepped behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She held onto my arms, as she continued to stare at it. “Beautiful, huh?”

“So beautiful… I want that so bad.”

“Want what?”

“Love… the kind that my parents have, you know? They always choose one another… everyday, they make the conscious decision to choose one another. When life is hard, unfair, and falling apart, I never saw them at odds. Always love and compassion for one another.”

“Reason why you so filled with love.”

She spun around in my arms. “You think so?”

“I know so. Heard you last night when you thought I was asleep.” I smirked, and she covered her face, almost embarrassed that I heard her.

“Oh Jesus… you think I’m weird, huh?”

Last night while we were laying on the balcony. The air, sound of the crickets and water below us felt so good. Had my mind going wild, and to quiet it, I pulled Navy closer with my eyes closed. She must have thought I was sleep and went to the bathroom. When she came back, she climbed back into my arms, but not before she kissed my forehead and said a short prayer for me.

“God cover him and help him overcome the things he doesn’t speak about. Let him know that my intentions are pure and the love I’m feeling is real. Amen.”

The words still ran through my head like she was in my ear saying them to me. I had never had someone pray for me. I couldstill feel her lips softly kissing my head. So soft and gentle with me.

“Not at all… had me thinking of changing that Perkins to Caselli.”

She snorted and shoved me while laughing. “Yeah, whatever. I meant every word I said, Landon.”

“I believe you.”

I pulled her hand, and we sat over near the benches. Everyone else was trying to capture the view as their background in their pictures, and before I tossed somebody over the cliff for shoving us, it was better to move out the way. “What’s your favorite song… an oldie and a goodie,” she questioned.

“‘Let’s Wait Awhile’ by Janet Jackson.”

“And a goodie?”

I pondered on her question and then looked at her. “Ambitious Girl.”

“Wale… classic. The album about nothing is my favorite album of all times… Greene always says I drag it, but it’s literal art.”

“Fucking masterpiece if you ask me… ain’t nobody creative like that. All that mumble shit gets more buzz because it’s quick and got a catchy beat. Nobody is taking their time to create art anymore, painting the picture through words… everybody chasing trends.”

“Yeah. I feel the same way when it comes to reading.” She sighed and looked at me. “Any art you create is such a delicate labor of love. So many people ruin that by trying to chase or snatch someone else’s process. Take their creative process and try to make it their own.” She was so passionate about the shit that she was becoming so worked up.

“Shit really fucks with you, huh?”

Nodding her head, she crossed her leg on the bench. “Yeah… I’m a creative, so I enjoy seeing everyone create. It’s the reasonI’ll never become a professional singer… I enjoy being able to write songs, put it down, pick it up, and have that moment. Not put my process out there for the world to see and rip apart. Takes a lot of strength to put something you create into the world… opening you up to those that will rip it apart, knowing they couldn’t sing a tune, write a word, or sit in front of a camera and create.”

“I love hearing you sing, Bleu.”

“You’ve only heard me once.”

“Twice.”

“When?”

“When you were doing dishes in the kitchen after I told you I had a housekeeper.” I reminded her. “You had your headphones on with your back turned as you sang.”

“That housekeeper didn’t show up once when I was there.”

“I fucked her one last time and fired her… waiting on her replacement.”

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