At the Park

I've noticed one thing about life, it does funny things. I guess one man's burden is another man's treasure.

It was like the beam of a lighthouse that had gone out, a beacon that wasn’t there anymore. I blinked and looked away from my phone, which I was staring at. I took a deep breath and went back to putting the groceries away. Just the day before, she and I were out to lunch. It was never enough time, an hour stolen here or there. I’ve learned to say things a certain way to ferret out what I wanted to know. It wasn’t easy with her�"for her.

There were a lot of things left unsaid between us, and it weighed heavily in the air when we were together. I wonder if her man ever figured that out. There was so much I questioned, things that would indubitably make my chest contract to hear, but I wondered anyway. I finished my task of putting things away, and then I just stood there at my kitchen counter, hands down on the linoleum wood, staring at the mock grains drawn onto the surface.

Our conversation during lunch was on my mind. I remembered how she was playing with her celery stick, and how we joked about why they only thought two were good enough to put on a plate, regardless if someone was going to eat them. The way she pursed her lips and stared at it as if disappointed because it didn’t do tricks made me smile. She had then said that she didn’t know if she should be insulted or not, and wasn’t sure if it would have been the same or worse if they gave her a leaf.

I walked to my fridge and took a beer out. It was another moment or so before I popped the cap with the edge of my thumb ring, and another before I took the first drink. It was a cool process, how we flirted with each other as we skirted the reasons why we were there. Maybe it was that I looked into things too deeply; the irony didn’t pass me by as maybe I was the one that did what women were stereotyped for. And through it all I could see her before me, the image burned into place behind my eyes.

There were times, I knew, where she wanted to hold my hand, and I knew that as she grazed my hand or my leg, or brushed against me as we walked, that it was intentional. I knew this because I did the same things to her. There were looks we gave each other, sometimes while we thought the other couldn’t see, and there were times we just didn’t give a damn.

In these times we’d already confessed that we liked each other a bit more than just friends, but it had to be a secret�"it had to be platonic. There were times she would slip up and unwittingly say something that she hadn’t meant to say aloud, but obviously had thought about before. These were the times I would memorize everything as if it would never happen again.

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. My cell went off, and it took until the second ring before I even moved toward it. I answered and there she was on the other end of the line. I could hear nothing in the background, and thought she had snuck away somewhere to call me. I knew what was coming, even before she spoke, and I followed it like a scorecard.

“Hi,” she breathed, quieter than was necessary�"at least by normal standards.

“Hey,” I murmured, just as quietly, even though I had no need to; I didn’t live with anyone else. “Snuck away, huh?”

“Yeah,” I wasn’t sure if she smiled at that or not. It wasn’t very often that she called me when she was at home. It usually came from when she was at work.

I nodded, though she couldn’t see it. That really didn’t matter since it was more for me that it was for her. “Is something on your mind?”

She paused, and I could imagine how it was for her to contemplate what she would say. Would she lie to me and bring up something trivial she wanted to ask? Would she avoid it? Or would it be that I would hear the honest truth out of her? I think I prepared her when I asked, so no luck getting the answer I was looking for.

“Well, not really. I wanted to say hi and see how you were doing.”

I closed my eyes again and took a drink from my warm beer. “I’m glad you called. It’s good to hear from you.”

Now she smiled; I could hear it in the change of her breathing. “Do you have a moment?”

I grinned and laughed lightly into the phone, the kind of sound that’s more breathing than anything else. “Me? I’ve always got time. I’d ask you if you had a minute, but I think that’s obvious.”

“You know me,” she begun, a light haughtiness to her tone to suggest that it was pointless to think otherwise. “So, tell me about your day?”

I don’t know what came over me, but I kind of gave off a reckless abandon as I asked, “Do you want to meet?”

There was barely a delay before she answered, “I�"yeah, I do.”

“How about the park?” I inquired, because I felt that I should be the one to say it as opposed to her, in case there was an unsaid eavesdropper lingering nearby.

“Okay.”

“See you there,” I almost whispered and hung up after she said goodbye.

How the hell did that happen? I seriously wasn’t expecting her to accept it. It wasn’t the first time we met up after she had gotten home, but it was never like this�"it was never so simple. I took a deep breath and poised myself. I was shaking. My heart was racing against my ribs in a lopsided rhythm. I let the air go and it trembled past my lips.

And then, without a second thought, I grabbed my keys off of the counter and raced out the door. A panic started to take me as I drove down through the streets, heading clear across town to the park both of us went to that was neither near her place or mine. I thought that if I waited too long, she may have changed her mind and went back home. But as I pulled into the parking lot of the park, I saw her car, partially shielded by tree branches. I parked next to hers, making sure to hide it completely from sight if someone was on the road. It was a pointless gesture, but a gesture nonetheless.

She was standing just off the path, leaning against the wooden post of the canopy that covered a table and benches. For a moment I watched her, pondering if she was alright, because now I was thinking that the oddity of the call and the agreement to meet was too good to be true, and that I shouldn’t have thought of positive things. She was standing there watching me as I stared at her. I got out of the car.

As I approached, she smiled a bit and raised both her brows. She then began to chide me, “I was wondering if you were going to get out of your car or not.”

I was about to ask her if everything was all right, but from her tone, her expression, and her body language, I didn’t have to. Everything was fine.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure if you were some kind of axe murderer waiting for me to mistake you for a desirable sweet thang.”

“But you did mistake me for that,” she scoffed.

I laughed. She had me pegged. “Damn; and I was hoping to hide that fact.”

“I could always get the hatchet out of my trunk,” she offered.

“Do you have handcuffs to?”

“Who do you take me for?” she demanded.

I laughed. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?”

“Of course you can. What kind of stupid question is that?”

I couldn’t contain my mirth, and it was starting to reveal itself on her, too. “So what’s up?”

She merely shook her head at me and gave a shrug with one shoulder.

I scratched my cheek and gestured offhandedly. “Well, it’s a good night for a walk.”

She smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

We took the path that wound through the park. The walkway seemed like it couldn’t help but veer left and right, swerving and looping back around on itself. We took our time, shooting the breeze about our day. We covered mocking our coworkers, gossiping, and about the joys of shopping�"or lack thereof. I told her about a scene from a story where the stocking crew at a supermarket bowled with a frozen turkey and using liquid soap bottles as pins.

The darkness was a warm thing that seemed to move around us, like waves lapping gently at a coastline. The autumn colors reflected in the heavy moonlight that lit our way. When I looked at her, I could see her outline and the gentle brushstrokes of her features. Her dark hair was like a curtain, sometimes shrouding her face, other times revealing it, but it always accentuated her. She caught me looking and I merely smiled and looked back at the pathway ahead of us.

Bats flew overhead and we watched them for a moment as they jerked in midair and swayed when they flapped, seemingly unbalanced. I lifted my hand and pointed to one. I had just opened my mouth to say something, but she spoke instead, “Yep, that one’s drunk.”

I closed my mouth. She had, literally, taken the words right out of my mouth. “I was just about to say that.”

“Awe, poor baby. Didn’t get the first word in, did you?” she crooned mockingly.

I mouthed the words that accompanied my stuck-up middle finger.

She poked her tongue out at me. “Hey, I’ve told you before. Don’t stick that thing out at me unless you intend to use it.”

She curled her upper lip and shook her head at me. It was a dirty look that was exceptionally adorable from her. My hand shot out to snatch her tongue. Of course I missed. She batted my hand away.

“You have to be faster than that!” she said, egging me on by blowing a raspberry.

I made to jump forward, but didn’t actually do it. She leapt back like the kick of a shotgun. I laughed.

“Hey! That was not nice!” She pouted unconvincingly.

I shrugged. “Serves you right.”

She shoved me. “Jerk.”

“Brat,” I retorted, batting at her hair and causing it to shift up into her face.

She brushed it back quickly and stuck her tongue at again. This time I was true on my intent and darted forward, catching her and drawing her into me. She let out a mangled squeal. Her eyes were wide as she hit my chest, her hands pinned between her and myself.

“Lemme go,” she demanded as she struggled with only a little effort. She looked up at me and tipped her head very, very slightly to the side. I saw her lips part. A few seconds passed before she whispered very quietly, “I said…” She paused again as I brushed her cheek with the side of my thumb, before finishing, “Let me go.”

“No,” I whispered, challenging her.

Of course she was a strong-willed woman; she couldn’t be goaded without reciprocating likewise. She stuck her tongue out at me, because she knew I was all talk. Only, this time, I didn’t say anything. Before anything could be denied, I kissed her.

There was no hesitation from her. She met my lips gently, and it quickly escalated, through pressure. Her hands shifted and her arms moved to circle me, but then she stopped suddenly and broke the kiss. I could hear her ragged breathing, fighting to get the words out that would end this all, though I knew she didn’t want to say them.

Only, this time I didn’t withdraw like I always had before. This time…

This Time.

It was a first time all over again. She brought her eyes to me and I felt as if decades had melted away from me and I was on the cusp of sixteen. I remained utterly still, letting her look at me, watching her as she, for the time being, stopped her internal struggle so long as I didn’t move.

“You shouldn’t have done that�"we shouldn’t have done that,” she said from within my arms.

I remained quiet and still. Something tore across her face like a wild thing. Her brows furrowed painfully and I saw her chest heave with a caught breath. And then suddenly, like liquid grace, it became an hungry expression laced with longing. I could feel it radiating off of her�"or maybe it was my own, I couldn’t tell.

“We shouldn’t,” she said again, shaking her head without taking her eyes off of me. There was something like a whimper from her. “I want to kiss you again.” It was said so quietly that I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly.

It was like the breaking of a dam for her, being capable of saying something she never wanted to say, to do something that was against everything she was at the same time as being exactly her. This time I moved slowly, giving her the chance to break away if she wanted to. Twice she was ready to, and twice she didn’t. It was a strange thing, how my heart was pounding heavily inside my chest as I lowered myself, not knowing what to expect. It was a wondrous, explosive feeling when her mouth met mine. She wrapped her arms around me and did not break the hold.

I think it was much the same for her as it was for me, and that if it was going to happen here and now, let it for the moment, and face the torment later.

Even when the kiss had broken, we stayed close together. I kissed the top of her head and breathed in deeply, savoring the close scent of her hair. I think she was doing something similar. She rubbed her face across my chest; her fingers ran small, random patterns on my back. They were the barest of touches that fluttered and stopped before moving again. She nudged my chin and we kissed again.

I don’t know how long we stood there embracing one another, but I doubt I really cared. I ran my fingers through her hair, grazing her scalp with my fingertips before raking them gently through. We took a long time parting, and eventually began to walk back towards our cars. The fact that what had happened had, indeed, happened, we remained close together as we ventured back.

We both reached our cars, lingering there without saying anything. She went to go but I brought her back to me. She didn’t resist as I drew her in for another kiss. It was a gentle affair that increased with yearning before simmering down again by the time it broke.

“I have to go,” she whispered.

“I know,” I replied in the same hushed tone.

She looked down, away from my gaze. She blinked and brought her eyes to mine. “Good night,” she said quietly.

“G’night,” I murmured, letting her break away.

My touch lingered on her arm, and she extended it until our fingertips could no longer make contact. Both of us lowered our arms. I knew that I couldn’t say anything. To do so would destroy everything. Let it be a positive thing for now, and let the ramifications of my actions take their toll tomorrow, when I could face them with squared shoulders. I would not let this hurt me tonight.

Not tonight.

She looked at me from behind her wheel and gave me a small smile. It may have been my imagination, but it looked pained. She started her car, turned on her lights, and backed up. I was determined not to wince in the glare of her headlights. I watched the silhouette of her car drift off towards the road. By the time I blinked away the white spots, the tail of her car vanished behind the tree line.

I took a deep breath and the let it out. For the second time that night, I was shaking.

I went home. The entire drive back was lost in a daze. I could still smell her; I could still taste her lips and tongue; feel the softness of her skin and mouth. There was a feeling of nirvana swaying within me. Everything seemed to be trapped in their own bubbles and I was in mine, surrounded by the recent memories of that bend in the path at the park.

When I was home and sitting on my couch, staring at the wall without seeing it, my phone chimed. I looked down and saw a text message from her. I sighed heavily through my nose. I had expected this later…not tonight. But she was the kind of girl who needed things to be resolved immediately. She didn’t like sleeping on an argument, and she didn’t like to be on uncertain footing. If she could set things to right then and there, she would.

I’m sorry, it said.

It took me a moment to understand, and then it dawned on me that she must be feeling like she had done something wrong by me. The audacity of that girl was one of the many, many reasons why I was so attracted to her. I should be the one feeling like a b*****d because of how wrong my actions were, but there she was apologizing to me like she should share the blame.

I responded: You have nothing to apologize for.

About fifteen minutes slowly went by and nothing. I wanted to remember the loveliness of her for the rest of my life. I had become so reckless that night that I figured I would do so one last time. I sent another message.

I want to see you again.

I never really expected a response back, or at best something berating me for being so selfish, thinking I could have her when I couldn’t�"when I shouldn’t. And then my phone chimed again. I looked down at it, unbelieving.

All it said was: Me too.