Page 69 of The Significance of Moving On

“And you look beautiful,” I finish.

This is what does it; Tally stops midstride, pulling me to stop alongside her. Her mesmerizing eyes have doubled in size staring longingly at my lips with a light sheen glossing over them with happy lines crinkling at the corners.

There’s maybe a five second delay between my eyes and hands, but once the connection is made I go in for another kind of connection all together. Reaching for her face, cheeks rosy and soft in my hands—why did I resist kissing her for so long? Jesus, I’m an idiot.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her which is why I want to kill whatever little punk starts laughing and zinging totally inappropriate comments at us. They sound too young to know about some of the stuff they’re suggesting. Dead. Their officially dead.

Tally drops her arms from around my neck back to lacing our fingers together again. But the flush stays on her cheeks right along with her smile.

“Move along. Nothing more to see,” I call out to a bunch of ten to twelve-year-old’s from the looks of them spilled out across the front yard of the modest, single story brick rambler where Luke and I spent time as kids.

“I recognize this place,” Tal whispers as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. When I nod she continues a little louder. “It’s the house from the picture.” No explanation of which picture is necessary.

“Yep.” The word chokes in my throat. I get here from time to time but usually come with a biting attitude from what could’ve been if we’d been allowed to stay. Today though, today feels different with the promise of a beautiful future standing next to me, holding my hand.

Once again, Nick and Chris were right and they were wrong because I was whipped before. Now I’m hopelessly whipped. Putty in her delicate hands. This girl doesn’t know the power she has over me. Or maybe she does.

Pulling to a stop I clear my throat. “Ready?”

This is the moment we’ve both been craving even if neither of us realized it for a time and she takes the first step. The white, pink and purple hyacinths bushes line the front windows in full bloom giving off this beautifully pungent scent sending me back to a good time in my childhood like nothing else ever can. Mama Mary, as she’s always had me call her, has forever loved her hyacinths.

All those young bucks stand off to the side ogling Tally with that pubescent boy reverence I remember from my own experiences. She doesn’t notice, but I do pulling her to my side and wrap an arm around her waist, not in a possessive way but more of a ‘yup, she is actually my girl. Keep your nose clean and you might be so lucky to end up with a girl like her someday, too’ kind of way.

I reach over to ring the doorbell but the door swings open before my finger hits the button as if someone had been waiting for us on the other side.

“Casey.” Mary, Mama Mary, shouts dragging me into an absolute bear hug which makes me laugh. And there’s no choice but to hug her back. Her hugs are infectious.

Once again usurped by Mama Mary, she says, “Tally,” a bit softer than my welcome while still pulling her into the hug next to me. “So good to meet you.” She sounds like she’s holding back tears. “Come on in, Steve can’t wait to see you two.”

“Tally, this ball of energy is Mary.” When she plants me with one of her ‘what did you justcall me?’ looks I quickly amend, “This is Mama Mary. She raised D and me and Luke while we were allowed to stay.”

“It’s good to meet you.” Tal gushes. If I don’t find some testosterone soon these two are going to turn me into a total chick. While Tally occupies herself looking at all the pictures on the walls, I pull on Mary’s sleeve to slow her down because I have an important question to ask. “Is Daniel here?”

Her face sinks. “No,” she says, shaking her head slowly. “We’re not turning our backs on him, Case. You need to know that up front. Daniel has more than his share of demons to face down. D told us what happened with Kelsey and then with Tally. We thought his presence might make you all uncomfortable, so we didn’t send him an invitation for today.”

“Thank you.”

She nods, but it’s clipped, almost curt. I didn’t think Mama Mary had a curt bone in her body but I pick up on it all right, before she continues. “Daniel is our son just like you and D.”

“I know. If you wanted him here, I would’ve understood not getting an invite. You raised him. He has more right to be here than I do.”

“Nonsense. We wanted you and your young lady here today. Besides, Daniel needs to sort himself out. Steve and I can’t do that for him. Just try to remember desperation leads people down very dark paths.”

Yeah, like she has to remind me of this. Like I don’t know more than anyone what desperation can lead to?

“Love, Casey. Love and compassion are the only two actual miracle workers on this planet.” Message received, Mama Mary. I’m just not sure if I’ll ever find any love or compassion for Daniel but stating as much won’t help her or me or the day. That little nugget of information stays right where it belongs, tucked inside me for safe keeping.

“Well then,” she clears her throat and links her arm through Tally’s. “Come on, darling girl. There’s a birthday boy floating around here somewhere who is just dying to meet you.”

We find Steve sitting out on the back patio with a party hat partially covering his thinning hair and bouncing a baby on his knee.

It’s a beautiful day to be outside. March in Michigan can go either way, but we’ve had a week of warm temperatures that has melted the snow and the sun feels fabulously warm. We all deserve this after what the winter put us through. That’s when I see Benjie, one of the long terms to come in before me and Luke, stands to Steve’s side cooing at the little cutie. The baby must be his. Benjie epitomized the term bad boy, as a teen back in the day when Luke and I arrived here.

He sure gave Steve and Mary a test of their patience. But now there’s a baby and a wedding ring on his finger making him look downright respectable. For a couple who couldn’t have any children of their own, these two sure knew how to deal with us. Always taking in boys, because girls, they said, tend to be easier to place and always welcoming siblings, because family shouldn’t be separated. Makes me wonder how many of those boys playing outside are new wards or “grandkids”?

“Casey Davenport.” Benjie finally seesme. “It’s been too long.” He pauses. “Mom and Dad miss you, you know. And yes, that’s guilt.”

“Benjie.” I try my hand at Mary’s curt nod, but the laughter slips out without me really meaning it to.

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