Strange Bedfellows
March 24, 2012
"What are we going to do?"
"We should never have let this happen," he said.
"I know," he frowned, "but we should have stopped when he got older."
"And he always wants the middle," she grumbled.
"Been there, tried that," she scoffed. "Seriously, what can we do?"
"Bunk beds?" he said, only half-joking.
"He couldn't climb to the top," she murmured, considering.
The large hound raised his head off the pillow, giving them an indulgent look.
Pity Party
3/19/2012
Sent out the party invitations
No one showed but me
Called the caterers, cancelled everything
Blew my nose, wiped my tears
Need to move on
Crybabies are a dime a dozen
So what if things are hard
Like that’s news?
Washed my face, looked in the mirror
Can I move on?
Scarlett knew
Tomorrow is another day
Instead of woe, my next party will have cupcakes
Square my shoulders, stand tall
Time to move on
The sunshine reminds me
Life is beautiful, even when most difficult.
I‘m going to take a moment now
Appreciating that fact
As I move on
No one showed but me
Called the caterers, cancelled everything
Blew my nose, wiped my tears
Need to move on
Crybabies are a dime a dozen
So what if things are hard
Like that’s news?
Washed my face, looked in the mirror
Can I move on?
Scarlett knew
Tomorrow is another day
Instead of woe, my next party will have cupcakes
Square my shoulders, stand tall
Time to move on
The sunshine reminds me
Life is beautiful, even when most difficult.
I‘m going to take a moment now
Appreciating that fact
As I move on
Being of Two Minds
3/12/2012
3/12/2012
“What are you doing?"
Silence.
“Come on, what are you doing?”
“Go away.”
“You’re trying that meditation crap again, aren’t you?”
“Go. Away.”
“It won’t work. I won’t let it.”
“Stop chattering. It will work.”
“No. If you clear your thoughts, where does that leave me?”
Silence.
“Helllooo, I know you’re there.” Laughter. “It’s not like you can hide.”
“Om mani padme, hum.”
“Like that’s going to help.”
“Quiet!”
“No! A thousand times no.”
Unfolding from the Lotus, scowling. “Fine. You win. I give up.”
A sigh, like smoke, drifted through her mind. “So, what should we think about instead?”
Silence.
“Come on, what are you doing?”
“Go away.”
“You’re trying that meditation crap again, aren’t you?”
“Go. Away.”
“It won’t work. I won’t let it.”
“Stop chattering. It will work.”
“No. If you clear your thoughts, where does that leave me?”
Silence.
“Helllooo, I know you’re there.” Laughter. “It’s not like you can hide.”
“Om mani padme, hum.”
“Like that’s going to help.”
“Quiet!”
“No! A thousand times no.”
Unfolding from the Lotus, scowling. “Fine. You win. I give up.”
A sigh, like smoke, drifted through her mind. “So, what should we think about instead?”
*********************************************
Not Such a Risky Business
3/01/2012
The sound hit him as he came into the house. Following the music to the living room, he took in the scene.
Her back to him, she was singing loudly into the duster as she did a long glide across the wood floor in her stocking feet.
He paused the CD player. She spun to face him in the abrupt silence.
“Channeling Tom Cruise?” he asked softly.
“Cleaning the house.” Grinning, breathless from exertion.
Her exuberance was compelling; unable to resist her, he kicked off his shoes.
“Got another…ah…microphone?” he asked.
“Here, take mine. My guitar solo is coming up.”
*********************************************
She held the 48 Valentines, saved from every year they’d been together.
Reading in order, she could follow their journey. The early years, cards filled with joy and love; the lean, dry years, a small x and his name as they struggled through bitter, heartbroken times; the reconciliation and forgiveness years, love creeping back tenuously, frightened of rejection.
Her finger traced his unsteady handwriting, words scrawled painstakingly on the last card, his love as bright and certain as the first one he’d written.
Clutching the bundle to her chest, her tears fell softly, catching in the corners of her smile.
**********************************************
Reading in order, she could follow their journey. The early years, cards filled with joy and love; the lean, dry years, a small x and his name as they struggled through bitter, heartbroken times; the reconciliation and forgiveness years, love creeping back tenuously, frightened of rejection.
Her finger traced his unsteady handwriting, words scrawled painstakingly on the last card, his love as bright and certain as the first one he’d written.
Clutching the bundle to her chest, her tears fell softly, catching in the corners of her smile.
**********************************************
Valentine Gifts
2/14/2012
He drew her into his arms.
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“No,” he murmured, “you get to choose.”
He lowered his head, the kiss deep and true.
“Would you rather have chocolate, or my kiss?” he whispered over her lips.
Breathless, she raised her mouth for more; a perfect answer.
“Would you prefer flowers, or my touch?”
Soft moans as knowing hands caressed her curves; satisfied, he smiled.
Pressing her head gently into his chest. “Hear me?” Strong, rhythmic beats.
“Instead of paper hearts, will you have mine?” his voice rumbled in her ear.
She chose her gifts; no more questions.
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“No,” he murmured, “you get to choose.”
He lowered his head, the kiss deep and true.
“Would you rather have chocolate, or my kiss?” he whispered over her lips.
Breathless, she raised her mouth for more; a perfect answer.
“Would you prefer flowers, or my touch?”
Soft moans as knowing hands caressed her curves; satisfied, he smiled.
Pressing her head gently into his chest. “Hear me?” Strong, rhythmic beats.
“Instead of paper hearts, will you have mine?” his voice rumbled in her ear.
She chose her gifts; no more questions.
*******************************************
“What does it all mean?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“This.” Waving her arms in big circles. “Life. The world. The universe.”
“Ah.” Philosophical quandary.
“We’re born, we live, we die,” she grumbled. “What’s the point?”
“The point is, I believe, that middle part.”
She scowled.
He looked at her, a long moment. “To live is to love, laugh, cry, feel. We don’t have to understand the universe, we just need to value our role within it.”
“How come you’re so smart?”
“I have to be, to keep up with you.”
His universe was in her beautiful smile.
******************************************
There and Back
2/01/2012
Rain under tires as the car eats the highway. Insulated in a warm cocoon, listening to vampires commit evil villainy on a CD while two wee dogs sleep in the backseat, oblivious.
Hours later, destination reached. Sister hugs; raucous, excited hysteria of dog brethren.
Long, wine-filled conversations over delicious food; appreciating the pleasure in talking with family while savoring a meal. Big city, favorite shops, a real bookstore. Nirvana.
Before we’re ready, back in the car; exhausted dogs, dreaming of their wild weekend. Lulled by the hum of the road, I cruise south, musing. Too fast the good times roll.
“That one?” Finger glide down the thin scar on her forearm.
“Sea urchin spine, off the coast of Kauai.”
“This?” She touched the scar above his temple.
“Underwater cave dive, Mexico.”
A gentle touch over the scar on her hip. “And this one?”
“Bad rappel at Yosemite.” He raised a brow. She shrugged. “60-mile wind gusts.”
They grinned at each other.
“What about this?” she asked, hand soft on the rough scar down his thigh.
“Racing. Going too fast, caught up in the speed.”
“Total the car?”
His eyes twinkled, smile flashed. “Nope. Just my bike. I was eight.”
“Sea urchin spine, off the coast of Kauai.”
“This?” She touched the scar above his temple.
“Underwater cave dive, Mexico.”
A gentle touch over the scar on her hip. “And this one?”
“Bad rappel at Yosemite.” He raised a brow. She shrugged. “60-mile wind gusts.”
They grinned at each other.
“What about this?” she asked, hand soft on the rough scar down his thigh.
“Racing. Going too fast, caught up in the speed.”
“Total the car?”
His eyes twinkled, smile flashed. “Nope. Just my bike. I was eight.”
********************************************
Staying Home
1/10/2012
“Want to do something tonight?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. A movie?”
“Captured audience, flu season, surrounded by coughing, hacking germ buckets who didn’t have the courtesy or sense to stay home? Don’t think so.”
“How about going out to dinner? There’s that new French bistro—”
“Just a different level of germ bucket.”
“Hmm.” Pause. “How long have we been together?”
“Since the dawn of time.”
Laughing, crawling into his lap, whispering in his ear, “Stands to reason that our germs must be sharing the same bucket by now, agreed?”
Juicy kisses.
"We'd better stay home where it's safe."
Walking into the building, she did a quick scan. Her gaze stopped abruptly when their eyes locked.
He froze, afraid to move, to break the spell. Please, be here for me.
Love at first sight. Compelled, winding her way between the other people in the room, so focused the voices and sounds around her nothing more than meaningless babble.
When she stood in front of him, they stared at each other for a heartbeat before she dropped to her knees and pulled him into her arms. “This one,” she said, smiling up at the woman from the dog adoption center.
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