Authors: Scott Hildreth
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Romance
As he finished his steak, I pressed my plate to the center of the table.
“Well, you look like you did pretty good,” he said as he inspected my plate.
I smiled and nodded.
“Well, what do you want to do our last night here?” he asked.
“Well, let’s pay for the meal and talk about it,” I said.
“Well, what are you thinking?” he asked.
I looked at the table and then up at Erik
“I have a surprise,” I said.
“Oh you do, do you?” he asked.
I nodded slowly.
“Well, tell me what we need to do,” he said.
“Well, I need you to trust me,” I said as I looked at the table again.
“Kelli, if you want me to trust you, you should look at me,” he laughed.
He looked at the bill, and reached into this pocket for some money.
I looked up and into his eyes.
“I want to take you somewhere, show you something,” I said.
“Okay, tell me where to go, we’ll take the rental and go,” he said as he started to stand up from his chair.
I shook my head.
“What baby girl?” he asked as he put his hands on my shoulder.
I pointed to his chair.
He squinted at me and walked back to his chair.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I need you to do something for me, and I don’t think you’re going to like it. It’s important though,” I said.
“Okay, what is it?” he asked.
“I need to drive. I want to take you somewhere,” I said.
“Baby, it makes me nervous to have you drive. You’ve never been here, correct?” he asked.
I shook my head, “Nope.”
“You don’t know where anything is, correct?” he asked.
“Nope,” I responded.
“Have you ever been where it is you’re going to take me?” he asked.
“Nope,” I responded.
“Why can’t I drive?” he asked.
“Well, that’s the thing. You’re going to be blindfolded,” I said.
“Excuse me?” he asked in a very harsh tone.
“Blindfolded.
Erik, please, it’s important to me. I need to show you something,” I begged.
“You want to blindfold me in a place you’ve never been, to drive a place you don’t know where it is, and show me something you’ve heard about, but have never seen?” he asked.
I nodded my head, “Please?”
He shook his head.
“I love you,” he said as he shook his head lightly and looked up at the ceiling.
“I love you back,” I said.
“Okay, let’s do it,” he said.
ERIK.
I listened as the navigation system made reference to the route. I tried, quite unsuccessfully, to determine where she was going. Not having ever been here before either, it made it difficult. Being in a place foreign to us, and going somewhere we’ve never been made me nervous.
I trusted Kelli, and the blindfold on my face was certainly proof of that trust.
The entire trip, she didn’t speak much. At first she talked, but she asked me to be quiet the last few times I had tried to talk. I decided to use this time in the car to relax and absorb some of the beach weather as it eased its way into the car window.
The smell of the beach was enough for me to know that we were still close to the ocean.
“Are we almost there?” I asked.
Silence.
“Kelli, if you’re nodding your head, I can’t see you,” I laughed.
“Oh, sorry, I was,” she laughed.
“Be quiet, I’m driving,” she giggled.
I leaned back into the seat, grateful to have Kelli and her father in my life. I now have what I have yearned for.
A family. A parental figure and a spouse. I felt as if my life were complete as she drove slowly through the neighborhood.
I felt the car slow to a stop. Kelli turned off the ignition. I heard her door open and close.
“Wait here for a minute, I’ll be right back,” she said.
I shook my head.
“No peeking,” she said.
I nodded, “Yes ma’am.”
She was gone for what seemed like an eternity. I heard footsteps close to the car.
“Kelli?” I asked.
The door opened.
“Come on, I’m going to take your arm,” she said.
She led me by the arm for a considerably long walk. Finally, she stopped, and let go of my arm. I felt her hands behind me, and she pressed on my shoulders.
“Turn please,” she asked as she pressed on my right shoulder.
I rotated to the left.
“Stop,” she said.
I could hear her breathing behind me. I felt her hands on my head, untying the blindfold. As the blindfold fell from my eyes, I blinked at what I saw and where I was.
It was all too surreal.
ERIK.
As men, we are expected to stand tall. We are expected to always be able to protect those that we cherish. To be the one that is willing to do any and everything that may be required to keep the ones that we love from harm.
I have always believed that I was far more able to do this than anyone on or of this earth. I was certainly someone that could protect Kelli from any and all things that may harm her.
Until now.
“Erik,” she said.
I stared straight ahead.
“Meet my mother,” she stood beside me and stared straight ahead.
I looked at the gravestone.
Margaret Parks. January 13, 1950 – May 8 1991.
She died when Kelli was one year old, and was buried in San Diego. I now know why Kelli chose this place.
Surprisingly, she wasn’t crying. I turned slowly and looked at her face. For once in my life, I had no idea of what to say.
“When daddy was sick that day, the day you left me in his hospital bed, he told me. He said he didn’t want to die and have me not know,” she said.
I nodded.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” I said.
“I’m not. I’m sorry she’s dead. But knowing that she actually died is far more comforting than thinking she abandoned me. Daddy said he brought her here because he was scared. He was scared for people to know what really happened,” she said softly.
I waited for her to continue.
“She died of a heroin overdose. He said she used the stuff since the war, on and off. She died right after Christmas. He drove her here in the snow. He said it was really cold. He used a truck. He told my grandparents, and that was all,” she put her hands on her thighs and leaned forward and looked at the grave stone.
“He said he did it to protect me. He didn’t want me to be ashamed. He said he was ashamed about how she died. He found her in the bathroom. I guess he would be ashamed. He apologized. After he brought her here, he said he kind of wished he could change it,” she sighed and sat down on the ground.
Slowly I sat down beside her and wrapped my left arm around her shoulders
. She leaned into my bicep and laid her head on me.
“He said after a few years, he even told himself that she walked off. He said he told the story so many times that he started believing it himself,” she plucked grass from the ground as she talked.
“It’s weird, but it’s kind of a relief to come here and see this. I didn’t know how well I would take it. It kind of puts closure to things. I’m sorry if I’ve been emotional or distant for the last few months, but I’ve been thinking about this,” she said as she tossed the handful of grass into the air.
“Can we come back sometime?” she asked as she started to stand.
“Any time you want, baby girl. And I mean that,” I responded as I began to stand.
“You know your father did this because he loves you more than anything,” I said, looking into her eyes.
She nodded, “I know.”
“He loves you more than anyone on this earth,” I said as I kissed her forehead.
“I grew up, always believing that nobody on this earth could or would ever love me as much as my father,” she said, her face buried in my shirt.
“Until I met you,” she looked up into my eyes.
My entire life, I have never quite believed in love. I believed our parents just took care of us, were required to love us because we were their children, and love was something that was manufactured, developed, or built. It could never just exist, or ‘be’.
Love is developed, and it is never perfect. We, as people, are flawed. Therefore, love is flawed. Most people live their lives trying to find the perfect person to provide them what they believe to be the perfect love. In my opinion, people should find someone that provides them with affection, someone that makes them feel, then develop and maintain the perfect love. That is the closest thing to real love that could ever possibly exist.
I remembered telling Kelli these things
one day in the coffee shop.
I looked
down into her eyes.
“I read a book once - about love that was developed and
love that just is
,” I paused.
“
And when I read the part about
love that just is
I scoffed. I knew better. I knew that it was merely words written by some shallow man that wanted to say what he had to say. And then I met you. And I now, Kelli, know what it is that books are written about. I know what people write poems about, I know what it feels like to know, and I do mean
know
what it feels like to be certain that someone loves you unconditionally.
Love that just is
,” I placed my hands on either side of her face.
“Kelli Parks, I love you. From deep down in the pit of my being, I love you, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Because, Kelli,” I inhaled a short breath.
“It. Just. Is,” I kissed her lips lightly and looked into her eyes.
“I love you back,” she said as she grabbed my hand.
My best advice to all living people is to keep searching. That person is out there. If you have to think about it, or second guess what you do have, it isn’t love. Keep looking. Keep searching - because that person does exist. All you have to do is find them. And when you do, you’ll know. You’ll have what Kelli and I do.
Love that just is.