Page 101 of This Life and All the Rest
When it turns dusk, we start the walk to the park for the fireworks. The glimpse I catch of Macon fills me with something I don’t want to acknowledge.
He’s got a young girl on his shoulders, maybe six or seven, and her little hands are resting on his baseball cap. She’s got a purple butterfly painted on her face, and her smile is huge. They’re walking with an older couple, possibly the girl’s grandparents, and he’s chatting with them about something.
The group is all smiles and laughter, and despite trying not to, I feel left out. Sam instinctively throws her arm around my waist, and I lean into her the rest of the walk.
We reach the park and find a place to lay out the blanket we brought. Then, Casper plops down beside Sam and they start talking. I listen until my neck heats and my skin prickles.
I know who it is without having to look, and when Macon sits next to me, I have to count to ten before I glance at him.
“Hey,” he says with a small smile. “Cool if I sit here?”
I shrug and give him a half grin, then gesture to the American flags posted up all around the park.
“It’s a free country,” I joke, and his smile grows.
I don’t know what to say to him, so I say nothing. I just look him over, and he does the same to me. His blue eyes are fire on my skin, and I have to dig my fingers into the blanket beneath me to keep from shivering.
Macon is beautiful.
He always has been, but now, with his features sculpted and matured, the stubble on his strong jaw and the depth of his eyes? He’s almost breathtaking. It’s hard not to touch him. God, I want to.
I want to feel him above me again. I want my hands on his chest and in his hair.
“Lennon,” he whispers, leaning in close.
“Hmmm?”
I lean closer, until I can feel his breath tickling my cheeks. We stay in that position, mere inches from one another, for what feels like a lifetime. Until I can taste him and feel him from memory. Then, just as he starts to close the distance, a loud explosion sounds around us, and we jolt apart.
Everyone cheers and claps, and it takes me a few moments before I register what happened. I look up to see sparkling bursts of color. I haven’t celebrated the Fourth of July in years. It almost makes it possible to ignore the permanent sinking feeling in my gut.
“Fireworks,” Macon whispers.
I laugh, looking back at him, his body awash in the red and blue lights from the sky. His smile is so big, showing straight, white teeth framed by soft, full lips. I can’t stop giggling as I take in his face, the glittering lights making it even more beautiful.
“Fireworks,” I repeat, and even in the din of the crowd, my breathless voice rings loud.
Sam drivesus back to my motel after the fireworks display. We listen to music and chat about the day, but she thankfully doesn’t bring up Macon.
“You sure you don’t want me to come in?” Sam asks as she idles in the parking lot. “We can drink wine and watch shitty TV.”
“Tempting,” I tell her, “but I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”
“Of course,” she says, then her face grows serious. “You know I got you, right? No matter what.”
I smile. “I know. And I got you, too.”
“I know.” She leans over and pulls me into a tight hug. “Love you, Len.”
“Love you too.”
She waits in the parking lot until I am safely inside my room, then I strip and get into the shower. It was hot today, so my body is covered in dried sweat and firework smoke.
After my shower, I dress in pajamas, and then I pace.
Up and down, back and forth, wearing a trail into my cheap motel room carpet.
I try to talk myself out of it a hundred times. I mentally list all the reasons why it’s a bad idea. But then my mind rebels, and I start considering all the positives.
