“You’re going to wake up the girls.” I squeal.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be so loud.” His fingers tickle me relentlessly.
Ducking under his arms, I point to the other side of the room, “Hannah? Sweetie. I’m sorry. Did we wake you up?”
He turns toward the staircase.
The penalty of arousing slumbering toddlers would be more bedtime stories, and they preferred that he narrate the fairy princess voice. And by his terrified expression I’d guess he’d rather be playing footsie on the couch then playing babysitters’ assistant.
But nobody was standing there.
“Oh, no you didn’t.” He grinned, reaching for my waist.
“Oh yes, I just did.” I say mischievously. Standing up from the couch I kiss the top of his curly brown hair.
“Hey, come back here. I thought we were watching a movie.”
“We are. I’m just grabbing some water. Do you want some orange juice.”?
“No, I’d prefer some of those lips.”
“Oh don’t you worry… they’ll be right back.”
The kitchen was dark and as I reach for the light switch I hear the click of the front door, “Hey babe. I’m running out to my car I’ll be back in a flash.”
The room lit up a large photo of the family. The two girls are wearing matching dresses and sitting on the laps of the beautiful mother and father. I had babysat them for years; the poster family for the American dream. Which made me wonder where would I live in ten years? Would I be married, would I have kids? Would I even live in Colorado?
Getting comfortable on the couch, he walks back into the living room Instead of sitting next to me, he pulls a large bag from behind his back. “Do you want a surprise?”
“Umm. Yes.” I say, surprised.
Pulling out tissue paper I feel an unfamiliar fabric. I pull out a bright pink pillow. It was so soft, the type you take on an airplane. “I thought since you’d be traveling to Boston a lot to visit me that you might need something to help you sleep on the airplane.”
His eyes searched my face to find any reaction.
“It’s wonderful.” I swoon.
“Oh good. Oh here I forgot the card.” He added.
Goosebumps crawl up my arm as I read the sweetest words, “Falling in love with you has been amazing.”
I set the card on the coffee table and stare into his chocolate eyes, wishing tonight would never end. “I love you too.”
It’s a sweaty July afternoon and I’m trying to locate sunscreen. I cannot stop sneezing because of the dust. Ripping tape off the random cardboard box, I hope to find sweaters and avoid spiders, but my fingers brush against an all-too familiar fabric. I don’t have to see the color to know exactly the texture, to taste this exact memory. That was the first night anyone ever told me they loved me. And while it felt so many centuries, cities, so many relationships ago, however much has changed since that night, perfect moments are never far from reach.
It was one of those things I’d forgotten about entirely. It was still in pretty decent condition.
“Hey Auna, here is the Boston goodwill bag.” My friend said. We were both hot from hours cleaning out the storage unit.
“Yep, one more thing.”
It had been eight years since that Valentines and now as an adult madly in love with the man who wasn’t my first love, but knew would be my last. The one now would be next to me in the family portraits, I had no need for this anymore, so I hugged the weathered pillow to my chest and closed my eyes for just a second, and then added it to the clothes and shoes and random knick knacks headed to the homeless shelter. Hopefully someone could enjoy the pink heart shaped pillow just as I had once.
