Otis (18 page)

“Let’s just hope you can, and one day God blesses us all with one,” my mother said as she stood from the table.

I sat and studied Sam and wondered what changed. Fifteen years prior, her only reason for leaving was that she wanted kids and I didn’t. Now, it seemed she either no longer cared to have children or she wasn’t able to. Either way, I decided it didn’t matter. What mattered was that we loved each other, and we were devoted to each other. As I sat and watched her cut into the pie, I grinned.

She was beautiful. I glanced around the table. If nothing else, I could offer her a family which included a mother, father, and me.

And in my eyes, despite our individual faults, this family was perfect.

SAM

Spending time with Otis’ family was so much more enjoyable than I expected it to be. I went to the dinner excited and a little nervous, not necessarily knowing what to expect. What I received was a heartwarming welcome from his parents, and in many respects, it felt as if I had only been away from them for a short period of time, definitely not the fourteen years I had been gone.

His mother’s question regarding children caught me slightly off guard and made me extremely uncomfortable. I expected my quick
no
response comforted Otis, but I felt sorry for his mother and her desire to have a grandchild, knowing her longing for us to have kids would never be met. I hoped as time passed, having me for a daughter-in-law might suffice to fill the void.

As much as the maternal part of me once wanted children, I realized the longing stemmed from my feeling of insecurity regarding my relationship with Otis. Losing him once as a result of my request was one time too many, and losing him again would crush me. Our pinkie promise had no clause in it for children, and I felt comfortable as long as kids
weren’t
in the picture Otis and I would be together for a lifetime. 

I stood, gazing into the mirror, and tried to recall the last time I had been on an actual date. After moving to St Louis, I had gone on a few dates, but eventually decided dating was senseless, as my heart belonged, and had always belonged to Otis.

Michael died in 2001, and I moved to St. Louis immediately following his death. A year later I stopped dating. Maybe it was two years, but certainly not longer than that. So roughly 2003 would have been my last
date
.

Twelve years.

I lifted the hem of my dress slightly and spun in a circle, watching myself in the mirror as I did so.

Wear a comfortable dress and shoes you’re comfortable walking in. I’ll be there at seven.

I picked up my phone and glanced at the screen. 6:50. Out of my peripheral I saw Taylor approach the doorway.

“Meow…”

“I know, right?” I sighed as I shifted my eyes in her direction.

“I didn’t have one, so I ran to the mall and bought it. Cute, huh?” I asked as I turned toward the mirror again.

“Meow…”

“I feel the same way. Where do you think he’s going to take me?” I asked as I turned toward the doorway and took a step in her direction.

Silence.

I walked past her, down the hallway, and toward the living room. As I reached the edge of the loveseat, I glanced over my shoulder.

“I don’t know either. Come on, we don’t have much time,” I said as I patted my hand on the arm of the loveseat.

She ran down the hallway and leaped toward my hand, landing gracefully beside it. After peering down in my lap and studying me for a short moment, she carefully stepped between my thighs and curled into a ball. After a few seconds of petting her, the unmistakable rumble of the Camaro coming down the street broke the silence.

“Well, it sounds like he’s here,” I shrugged as I picked her up and placed her at my side.

As he rolled into the driveway, I ran in the kitchen, grabbed my purse, and literally sprinted for the door. I pulled the curtains to the side slightly and watched, hoping he’d eventually step out of the car. After what seemed to be an eternity, he opened the door and stepped into the driveway.

Dressed in dark designer jeans, black dress boots, and a well-fitted dark grey V-neck tee, he looked amazingly handsome. I loved the entire biker look thing, but seeing him dressed like this was a very nice change. After admiring his slow confident swagger as he worked his way toward the door, I pulled the curtains to the side and reached for the door.

“Oh, wow. You look nice,” I sighed as I stepped onto the porch.

He stopped in his tracks and glanced up at me.

“Damn, Sam. You look incredible. That dress looks fucking
good
,” he said as he pushed his thumbs into his front pockets.

His arms looked like they were about to bust right out of the shirt. It wasn’t too small, and it actually fit perfectly, but for him to buy a shirt that would allow his massive arms to actually fit the sleeves would be impossible. The upper portion of the shirt clung to his massive chest, and hung slightly loose around his rather trim waist. As I stood admiring his little thumbs in pocket pose, I had to consciously prevent myself from slobbering on my new dress.

“Thank you,” I said as I did my best to curtsy, “So, you ready?”

“If you are, I am,” he responded as he turned toward the car.

I stepped off the porch and glanced toward the car. He stood at the passenger door, holding it open for me, grinning from ear to ear.

As I held my dress to my thighs and attempted to slide gracefully into the low-sitting car, he bent down and kissed me softly. As soon as our lips parted, I collapsed into the seat feeling rather satisfied I could get used to this type of treatment with ease.

“So where are we going?” I asked as he got in the car.

“Surprise,” he responded over his shoulder as he started the car.

I clutched my purse in my hands and grinned. I liked surprises as long as they were well natured. A surprise date seemed more romantic to me than an unplanned one, and made me feel a little more special than if we’d have simply gone to some random restaurant to eat dinner. As he pulled out of the neighborhood and sped into traffic, the sound of the car and the sheer force of the acceleration did to me what it always did to me.

Wet.

“In a hurry?” I asked as I reached over to buckle my lap belt.

He grabbed the gear shifter and slapped the car into another gear without letting his foot off the gas pedal, causing the car to lurch forward even more.

“Kind of,” he said as he glanced in my direction for a split-second.

“Okay,” I said under my breath.

“Does it end soon? Are we going to miss it?” I asked.

“Nope. Not really,” he said as he swept past a car on the right side.

“Is it inside or outside?” I asked.

“Good question,” he responded without shifting his eyes from the road, “Outside.”

I nodded my head, “Is there a large body of water?”

He shook his head and laughed, “No. There’s
some
water, but not much.”

“Hmmm,” I said as I raised my index finger to my lips.

“Just the two of us, or will there be more people?” I asked.

“There will probably be a
lot
of people,” he responded.

His focus on driving and having both hands on the steering wheel caused me to focus more on his flexing biceps that I probably should have. Regardless of how much time I had to admire him, not staring at his bulging muscles was extremely difficult. As I studied the tattoos on his forearms admiringly, he turned a sharp corner, causing me to look out at the road.

“Where are we?” I asked as I looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

Several parks and a small river lined the streets on either side of the car.

“Almost there,” he said as he down shifted the car into a lower gear.

As he slowed the car to an almost stop and turned into a parking area, I glanced around, trying to determine where we were. Although I had grown up in Wichita, so much had changed since I’d spent any time in the inner city that nothing seemed familiar anymore.

“What is this place?” I asked excitedly.

He pointed out the window to a large wooden sign.

Botanica.

“Botanica? The flower garden?” I said under my breath.

“It’s more than a flower garden, Sam. Website said they’ve got fountains, paths, A Shakespeare garden, a rose and wildflower garden, a Chinese garden, butterfly garden - hell I don’t even remember how many they have. Ten acres worth,” he said as he shut off the car.

I stared out the window at the entrance. I would have never guessed he would take me to such a place, so it was in fact a huge surprise. As I sat and admired what I could see through the window of the car, he reached over and touched my shoulder.

“I always loved your mother’s back yard, and I know you did too. I thought this would be just like it, only a lot bigger. It’ll be more enjoyable if you get out,” he chuckled.

“I love you,” I sighed as I turned to face him.

“Love you too, Sam,” he said as he reached for the door handle.

We walked toward the entrance hand in hand, and as we entered the park, my breath was taken away by the sheer beauty of the landscape. A central fountain surrounded by various flowers, shrubs, and a walkway looked like something out of a fairytale, and it was only the entrance to the garden. As he paid for our tickets, I eagerly scanned the landscape for more to see.

“This is beautiful,” I sighed as I gazed at the fountain.

As we walked past the fountain and into the park, I gazed at the beautiful flowers, shrubs and trees in an almost trance-like state. Although there were people everywhere, it didn’t seem at all overcrowded. The aroma of the surrounding flowers created an almost sensory overload as I attempted to identify all of the individual flowers creating the beautiful scent.

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose.

Roses. Honeysuckle.

Gardenias.

Uhhh, Uhhm.

Garden Phlox.

I opened my eyes to a beautiful display of purple Garden Phlox.

“I love this place,” I said as I squeezed his hand in mine.

He shifted his eyes from the garden ahead, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I nodded my head as we walked under an ornamental concrete structure marking the entrance to another area of the garden.

The sound of running water made the entire area seem more peaceful than it already was. After searching along the landscape, I noticed a stone-filled creek beside the walking path with water flowing through it freely. On the side of the path as we curved to the left, a large pool of water with beautiful coy fish playfully swimming about caught my attention.

I pointed to the pool as we passed, incapable of saying anything to describe the beauty of it all.

Two breathless gardens later, and I stood in the center of a rest area with my eyes closed, once again attempting to identify the aroma of a particular flower which had commanded my attention. As I inhaled another slow shallow breath through my nose, Otis’ hands on my cheeks caused me to open my eyes. 

“I love you, Sam,” he said as he leaned down and kissed me lightly.

“I love this place, and I love you too,” I sighed.

“Have you enjoyed it?” he asked.

I wrinkled my brow and narrowed my eyes, “Enjoyed it? That’s a stupid question. Yes
Otis
, I’ve
enjoyed
it.”

“Good,” he said as he glanced over each shoulder somewhat nervously.

“You know what would make it better?” he asked as he turned to face me.

I shrugged my shoulders, “I dunno.”

“I want to fuck the shit out of you. Right here,” he said as he pointed to the side of the path.

I glanced to where he pointed and stared. The side of the path was lined with flowers, and behind them a more elevated row of shrubbery, and behind it, another row of various flowers. The entire height of the uppermost obstruction was maybe four feet high. People passing by could undoubtedly see us if they simply peered to the side of the path and over the flowers.

“You’re crazy, not
here
,” I sighed.

“Why? It’s beautiful,” he shrugged as he glanced around us.

“It is,” I said as I stepped to the side, allowing a person walk past.

I tossed my head toward the woman who had just passed and widened my eyes, “See? There are too many people, and it’s not even dark yet.”

He glanced to the side of the path, turned around and peered around the corner of the display behind him, and reached down and gripped the top of an ornamental concrete bench at his side. As he grunted and pulled against the bench, slowly it began to rise from the concrete slab below it.

“Mother…fucker…this is heavy…as…fuck,” he grunted as he lifted the bench.

What the fuck?

I watched in amazement as he carried what was probably a four hundred pound bench to the side of the flowers behind me, setting it on the grass beyond the four feet high row of flowers lining the path. As he walked around the end of the path to where he was standing before I stood with my mouth agape.

“There,” he said as he wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans.

“Now we got us a little place,” he grinned.

“People can see us. Like
see
us.
No
,” I huffed.

He glanced over his shoulders, turned around, and sighed. Before I had a chance to do or say much of anything, he slid one arm behind my thighs, the other over my shoulders, picked me up from my feet, and held me in his arms.