You've got m@il (part 4)
On her first day back on the job after the longest and most awful cold of her life, Teresa joined Jane at the coffee cart in front of the CBI for a cup of something -coffee for her, tea for him- in the middle of the afternoon. They sat in front of the old building, in the small garden, on an old-fashioned bench. They were enjoying each other’s company- something that hadn’t happened in a while - and people watching. The last, being Jane’s prerogative.
“So… have you heard from your friend again?” Jane asked, casual. Of course he knew the answer- he had answered her mail just the day before, with a mix of anticipation, fear and thrill- but now he wanted to see how much he had been able to get under her skin.
She nodded, humming in appreciation of the hot beverage. Jane knew all the best coffee and tea carts in Sacramento, if not the whole California. “He told me that we will meet, but that right now he is in the middle of a project that needs tweaking.” She underlined the last part, like she really didn’t get it.
“Tweaking, you say?” Jane hummed, like he was lost in his own world. He patted his lips with his right index, pretending to be lost in concentration. “I hate to tell you this, Lisbon, but I fear he may be married.”
She glared at him. Right until that moment it had been perfect, of course he had to go and ruin it all. “It’s a terrible thing to say, Jane. Besides, it’s not even possible.” She smiled, proud of herself. She could recognize a victory when she saw it.
“Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon, please.” He sing-singed like he was a father lecturing the child that had just disappointed him. “We both knew you have never actually asked him if he was married. Now.” He said, patting her legs like nothing had happened at all, all smiles and cheerfulness. “What about another cup? I’ll pay.” And he went back to the cart, his phone already in his hands. He smiled a bit cruelly- he didn’t even had to look at Lisbon to know she was texting Alexanderson.
And in fact, an email arrived moments later. He was getting green tea for the both of them when he read it.
I know it’s probably a little late to be asking, but, are you married?
He chuckled, and immediately went to reply. He typed quite quickly, after all these months of correspondence he had become quite the expert. The only problem was the cashier. She was looking all dreamy at him, and was going to get a piece of paper. Poor girl, she wanted to give him her number. Ah, if she only knew…
“Ah, my girlfriend. She can’t stay five minutes without me. I mean, I am right before her, getting her a cup of tea, there is no need to check on me, don’t you think?” He asked, as causal as possible, trying to seem at ease and a funny man. He could see her- the tag said Leah- sighing and putting away the paper.
Only then he returned to his email.
What kind of question is that? Don’t you know me at all? Wait- your friends are telling you that the reason we haven’t met yet is because I am married. Am I right?
And then, like nothing happened, he strolled back to his “victim”, as casual as his usual. It wasn’t like he wasn’t a bit ashamed, but after all, his whole life had been about the long con, and this wasn’t any different, the only thing being the final prize, her heart instead of money. He had to keep that in mind , and push the guilt away. But really, a part of him just wanted to drop the façade just to see her reaction. She was just too sweet, behaving like a young schoolgirl with her first crush. Of course, it was also kind of sad, as Teresa had gone from being a child to adulthood, so she had just left behind young love before it actually started -she had been about to marry her first boyfriend, after all. He shook his head- he had to push away the bad thoughts if he wanted to win this one.
“So, let me guess. Lover boy didn’t exactly answered you, he beats around the bush, instead.” He fell on the bench at her side, acting all innocent. It was bad, what he was doing. But it was terribly funny as well.
“That’s the point, Jane. He knew what I was up to. He knew why I was asking him. And this is so just him!” She giggled, and smiled of one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. She was simply beautiful like that. He wanted to see this side of this woman every second of every day. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her it was him, that it had always been him, even before they started writing… but he couldn’t. Not yet.
“All I say is, he didn’t answer.” He hummed, then looked at her like they were co-conspirators, his voice low and serious when he finally spoke. “Have you taken in consideration the idea that he could be fat? So fat maybe he has to be moved from his house with a crane…”
“Ok, first, it’s very unlikely, and second, I wouldn’t care.” She was playing the role of little miss perfection, of a real know it all. He hated it. And yet, it made him shiver, in the best way possible.
“Ok, then, if he isn’t putting off seeing you because he is married or so fat he can’t move on his own…” He paused, and then looked away, faking innocence and sadness. “ Forget I mentioned it.”
“What?” She asked, but Jane kept looking away, sorry for her in that fake way of his. And she could be damned if she didn’t recognize that expression. “Jane?”
“Have you thought about the possibility that he could be waiting to be paroled?” She glared at him, refusing to share the tiny detail that she, and Grace, had secretly considered it too when he had been a non-show at their date, and Jane decided it was time to change topic-a bit. “Anyway, what’s his username?”
Lisbon faked indignation, and stood up, starting to walk towards the building. But after a while, feeling Jane’s eyes on her, she decided to answer his question. “Alexanderson 44.”
“Uhm” He said while they were waiting to be checked by security, his finger on his lips, lost in concentration. “Four-Four. Forty-Four. Very interesting. He may be 44 years old . He has 44 hair remaining on his head. He’s had 44 moles removed from his face and now he has 44 pockmarks. Or maybe…” He paused, looking as he had just hit the jackpot. “His college scores? His IQ? The number of women he had slept with?”
“The number of time he had seen the Godfather? Or maybe it really is his age. Or would it be too prosaic? It’s just so out of character for him…”
She took a big breath, and shook his head. “But anyway, I don’t care. Besides the married and jail things, of course.” Her eyes fell on Jane, lost in concentration, trying to recall some random data from his memory palace-it was that kind of expression. “Jane, don’t you dare telling me now how many unmarried men are currently out of jail, all right? Because I care just about this one.”
“Are you saying you’d never date me?” He asked. She could see he was partly wounded, and she wondered why, blushing. Could it be that… but then, she shook her head. It wasn’t possible. He had had all the chances in the universe to make a move on her, but he never had- ergo, he wasn’t interested, and his declaration of love… well, even if she had secretly hoped it could hide his real (and reciprocated) feelings, now, years later, she was almost adamant that it had been something he had told in the heat of the moment, high on adrenaline and fear. Who knew- maybe he had told her such a thing because he knew she was in love with him, and had decided to take pity on her, thinking that it would be the last time they were going to see each other. Ah. Trust Jane to not trust his own plans; he had probably told those three little words because he thought she was (they were) going to die…
She sighed, and decided to concentrate again on “her” Alexanderson. Jane was a lost cause, and anyway, he was giving her an headache she didn’t want to have. She wanted happy feelings: and those, came with her e-mail friend.
Jane smiled, wondering if her faraway look, that dreamy expression were for him or Alexanderson. Or maybe both. Maybe she had understood the truth. She was a good detective, after all, like she had always reminded him.
As soon as he was back in the attic, he started writing her- as Alexanderson.
How about meeting Saturday, at 4 PM? There is a place in William Land Park, by the lake- the one next to the zoo. There is a white, rusty bench right before the water, close to the jogging route-I’ll be there feeding ducks. And waiting for you.
She didn’t know why, but that day, she was there- and she had asked Jane to drive her. They left the car few minutes from where she was supposed to meet with her date, and she leaned against the hood of his car, lost in her thoughts. Jane knew she was scared, that she was worried. And he was too- but he couldn’t have her in such a state right now.
“I can’t believe today is the day…” She said. She looked at him, and for a second, it seemed she wanted to tell him something. He wondered what it could be. Maybe she knew. Or maybe she didn’t care, and she just wanted him-Jane- and not the guy she had met on that site.
“You know, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be amazing- and yet strange- if we knew him? Maybe we met him across the street thousands of times, and we didn’t even know it. But anyway, it doesn’t matter. Because now, you are his. And he knows that you’ll never be able to love anyone as much as you love him.” He stopped by a hot dog tray, and looked at her, serious, and sad. This was almost it, the moment that could change everything, define them and their relationship. Love or ruin. And he still had a chance. He could make her love him- as himself- before she met the other him. Before… before she thought he had played her. “I’m sorry if I’m sounding weird, it’s just that, lately, with you and this guy falling for each other, I’ve been thinking a lot and…”
She shook her head, her eyes teary, she was almost sobbing. “Don’t, Jane, don’t go there.”
But he refused her, shaking his head in a silent no. “Lately, I’ve been wondering all kinds of what ifs. What if Red John never existed? What if I met you and I’ve never been married before? What if my dad didn’t rise me the way he did? What if we had never worked together? Or we hadn’t known each other for over ten years? What if… What if we were just two people, a man and a woman across the crowd, and we’d just met…”
“Jane, please….” She begged. She was fighting, and losing, a battle. And she was confused. Jane’s forehead was resting against her own, and his breathing was irregular. Her palm was flat against his chest, trying to keep him away, and his heart was fast and crazy: he was as shaken by this as she was.
“I would ask for your number, and I wouldn’t be able to wait twenty-four hours before calling and asking “How about coffee and tea, drinks, dinner, a movie for as long as we both shall live?” That’s what I would do, Teresa. And we would never fight, if not for the remote or the movie we’d rent on the weekends…” His voice was broken, and she was close to sobbing too. No one had ever said such a thing to her. It was the most honest and romantic and sweet love declaration she had ever gotten. But right now it was too late. And besides, that wasn’t their life. All those what ifs, were just that, mere speculations that had never happened. It didn’t matter how fascinating and thrilling her life with him could be. She couldn’t risk the life she knew she could have with Alexanderson for a fantasy with Jane. Not when, any day, he could wake up and decide that that life wasn’t for him, that he wanted something more, different. God, it broke her, because she had always hoped that one day he would have chosen her, but now, now it felt… wrong? No, it wasn’t that. The truth was, she was scared. Because she preferred having Jane in her life as a friend only, she even preferred not having him at all, then having him but having him resenting her eventually. But maybe…
Reluctantly, she forced him away. She covered her mouth with an hand and hugged herself, trying to not cry, but it was hard. She didn’t know what to do. And yet, she did. But she was scared. And then, there was still that small hope, that dream, that stupid, childish voice in her head that sounded just like her mother, like Grace and like herself as a teenager al put together, that told her that she could have them both. That she was an idiot not realizing that it had been Jane all along. That it had always been Jane.
“I have to go, Jane. Please….” She was sobbing, and it broke his heart knowing that he had done so. But it was for a good reason. She had to know it. He shook his head, he was close to tears as well. And she was his best friend. She was the one who knew him as no one else, not even himself; she was the one who had changed him-who had driven him to change- and she was supposed to know that he had never cried in the open before. Never. Not even… not even back then.
“Why can’t you forgive me for everything, Teresa?” He asked as he lifted his left hand, cupping her face. “He left you there. Stood you up. And yet, you forgive him. But you can’t forgive me…” he closed his eyes as she shook her head. “How I wish you would….”
He got closer and closer, his lips were just a whisper away from hers, but Lisbon kept shaking her head, she kept her distance, her eyes firmly closed. “Jane, I…”
“You have to go. I know.” He parted, and so did she, and then she gave him her back, and walked in direction of the lake Alexanderson had told her he was going to wait for her. But she wasn’t so sure any longer he was the right choice for her. What if he wasn’t worth it? Maybe Jane was right, and despite the buts and what ifs there was room for a future for them. She wanted to ask him, she wanted to look at him one last time, thinking that she could understand with just a mere glance, but when she turned, he wasn’t there any longer.
She covered her mouth with an hand, she wanted to cry and scream and call Jane just to tell him how mad she was with him, but she couldn’t. She had made her choice, she had to go, she couldn’t be late for this. Not when she had lost everything else, and the chance to love- and of being loved back- as never before was right around the corner.
She reached the section of the park where she was supposed to meet “lover boy”, and started to look around, and then, she saw it, an old-fashioned white bench in front of the lake, with a man feeding ducks. A man with blonde curls and what appeared to be a three pieces suite.
Jane.
She cried and laughed at loud, and he stood, and looked at her, the sudden movement and noises scaring away the poor birds. She was crying - happy tears for once- shaking her head in disbelief as he was slowly and calmly walking towards her, hands in the pockets of his pants. He was smiling, his smile a mirror of her own. He was happy. And it was something she decided she couldn’t have enough of, never, ever.
He stopped before her, and lifted her chin with his right index, and erased her tears with a touch of his left hand. She gasped. “Don’t cry, my May Flower.” He grinned, chuckling, and she stopped crying. She laughed, and threw herself at him. Finally. After so long. After so many years. She could do it. He wanted for her to do it.
“I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly…” she paused, grinning against the rough fabric of his vest and shirt. “I hoped it was you. So much I thought I was crazy…”
He laughed, his smile a weapon against the tender skin of her neck. “And who was I supposed to be, Teresa? Alexanderson 44… a son of Alexander who is 44 years old… and to think that I never thought for a second that Grace could plot something like that when she told me she wanted to set me up for internet dating…”
She laughed as well, and yet there were still some tears, and he kissed all of them away. She was sweet and salt and spicy and all things Teresa. She was everything he had always thought her to be, and so much more. “I don’t care, we can think about her tomorrow… or maybe another day… I just want…”
“Coffee and tea, drinks, dinner, a movie for as long as we both shall live? I know. I know, sweetheart, I know.” He said, completing her sentence for her. He was still shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn’t believe it yet. She had forgiven him. And it was him she wanted. It had always been about him.
And then, finally, they kissed, slowly, languidly, without a care in the world. Still not knowing if blessing their redhead cupid or plotting revenge on her. But at least, now they had all that time in the world, along with coffees, tea, bear claws, drinks, dinners and movies... and who knew, maybe, one day, a wedding too.
And a certain redhead cupid as maid of honor.
“So… have you heard from your friend again?” Jane asked, casual. Of course he knew the answer- he had answered her mail just the day before, with a mix of anticipation, fear and thrill- but now he wanted to see how much he had been able to get under her skin.
She nodded, humming in appreciation of the hot beverage. Jane knew all the best coffee and tea carts in Sacramento, if not the whole California. “He told me that we will meet, but that right now he is in the middle of a project that needs tweaking.” She underlined the last part, like she really didn’t get it.
“Tweaking, you say?” Jane hummed, like he was lost in his own world. He patted his lips with his right index, pretending to be lost in concentration. “I hate to tell you this, Lisbon, but I fear he may be married.”
She glared at him. Right until that moment it had been perfect, of course he had to go and ruin it all. “It’s a terrible thing to say, Jane. Besides, it’s not even possible.” She smiled, proud of herself. She could recognize a victory when she saw it.
“Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon, please.” He sing-singed like he was a father lecturing the child that had just disappointed him. “We both knew you have never actually asked him if he was married. Now.” He said, patting her legs like nothing had happened at all, all smiles and cheerfulness. “What about another cup? I’ll pay.” And he went back to the cart, his phone already in his hands. He smiled a bit cruelly- he didn’t even had to look at Lisbon to know she was texting Alexanderson.
And in fact, an email arrived moments later. He was getting green tea for the both of them when he read it.
I know it’s probably a little late to be asking, but, are you married?
He chuckled, and immediately went to reply. He typed quite quickly, after all these months of correspondence he had become quite the expert. The only problem was the cashier. She was looking all dreamy at him, and was going to get a piece of paper. Poor girl, she wanted to give him her number. Ah, if she only knew…
“Ah, my girlfriend. She can’t stay five minutes without me. I mean, I am right before her, getting her a cup of tea, there is no need to check on me, don’t you think?” He asked, as causal as possible, trying to seem at ease and a funny man. He could see her- the tag said Leah- sighing and putting away the paper.
Only then he returned to his email.
What kind of question is that? Don’t you know me at all? Wait- your friends are telling you that the reason we haven’t met yet is because I am married. Am I right?
And then, like nothing happened, he strolled back to his “victim”, as casual as his usual. It wasn’t like he wasn’t a bit ashamed, but after all, his whole life had been about the long con, and this wasn’t any different, the only thing being the final prize, her heart instead of money. He had to keep that in mind , and push the guilt away. But really, a part of him just wanted to drop the façade just to see her reaction. She was just too sweet, behaving like a young schoolgirl with her first crush. Of course, it was also kind of sad, as Teresa had gone from being a child to adulthood, so she had just left behind young love before it actually started -she had been about to marry her first boyfriend, after all. He shook his head- he had to push away the bad thoughts if he wanted to win this one.
“So, let me guess. Lover boy didn’t exactly answered you, he beats around the bush, instead.” He fell on the bench at her side, acting all innocent. It was bad, what he was doing. But it was terribly funny as well.
“That’s the point, Jane. He knew what I was up to. He knew why I was asking him. And this is so just him!” She giggled, and smiled of one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. She was simply beautiful like that. He wanted to see this side of this woman every second of every day. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her it was him, that it had always been him, even before they started writing… but he couldn’t. Not yet.
“All I say is, he didn’t answer.” He hummed, then looked at her like they were co-conspirators, his voice low and serious when he finally spoke. “Have you taken in consideration the idea that he could be fat? So fat maybe he has to be moved from his house with a crane…”
“Ok, first, it’s very unlikely, and second, I wouldn’t care.” She was playing the role of little miss perfection, of a real know it all. He hated it. And yet, it made him shiver, in the best way possible.
“Ok, then, if he isn’t putting off seeing you because he is married or so fat he can’t move on his own…” He paused, and then looked away, faking innocence and sadness. “ Forget I mentioned it.”
“What?” She asked, but Jane kept looking away, sorry for her in that fake way of his. And she could be damned if she didn’t recognize that expression. “Jane?”
“Have you thought about the possibility that he could be waiting to be paroled?” She glared at him, refusing to share the tiny detail that she, and Grace, had secretly considered it too when he had been a non-show at their date, and Jane decided it was time to change topic-a bit. “Anyway, what’s his username?”
Lisbon faked indignation, and stood up, starting to walk towards the building. But after a while, feeling Jane’s eyes on her, she decided to answer his question. “Alexanderson 44.”
“Uhm” He said while they were waiting to be checked by security, his finger on his lips, lost in concentration. “Four-Four. Forty-Four. Very interesting. He may be 44 years old . He has 44 hair remaining on his head. He’s had 44 moles removed from his face and now he has 44 pockmarks. Or maybe…” He paused, looking as he had just hit the jackpot. “His college scores? His IQ? The number of women he had slept with?”
“The number of time he had seen the Godfather? Or maybe it really is his age. Or would it be too prosaic? It’s just so out of character for him…”
She took a big breath, and shook his head. “But anyway, I don’t care. Besides the married and jail things, of course.” Her eyes fell on Jane, lost in concentration, trying to recall some random data from his memory palace-it was that kind of expression. “Jane, don’t you dare telling me now how many unmarried men are currently out of jail, all right? Because I care just about this one.”
“Are you saying you’d never date me?” He asked. She could see he was partly wounded, and she wondered why, blushing. Could it be that… but then, she shook her head. It wasn’t possible. He had had all the chances in the universe to make a move on her, but he never had- ergo, he wasn’t interested, and his declaration of love… well, even if she had secretly hoped it could hide his real (and reciprocated) feelings, now, years later, she was almost adamant that it had been something he had told in the heat of the moment, high on adrenaline and fear. Who knew- maybe he had told her such a thing because he knew she was in love with him, and had decided to take pity on her, thinking that it would be the last time they were going to see each other. Ah. Trust Jane to not trust his own plans; he had probably told those three little words because he thought she was (they were) going to die…
She sighed, and decided to concentrate again on “her” Alexanderson. Jane was a lost cause, and anyway, he was giving her an headache she didn’t want to have. She wanted happy feelings: and those, came with her e-mail friend.
Jane smiled, wondering if her faraway look, that dreamy expression were for him or Alexanderson. Or maybe both. Maybe she had understood the truth. She was a good detective, after all, like she had always reminded him.
As soon as he was back in the attic, he started writing her- as Alexanderson.
How about meeting Saturday, at 4 PM? There is a place in William Land Park, by the lake- the one next to the zoo. There is a white, rusty bench right before the water, close to the jogging route-I’ll be there feeding ducks. And waiting for you.
She didn’t know why, but that day, she was there- and she had asked Jane to drive her. They left the car few minutes from where she was supposed to meet with her date, and she leaned against the hood of his car, lost in her thoughts. Jane knew she was scared, that she was worried. And he was too- but he couldn’t have her in such a state right now.
“I can’t believe today is the day…” She said. She looked at him, and for a second, it seemed she wanted to tell him something. He wondered what it could be. Maybe she knew. Or maybe she didn’t care, and she just wanted him-Jane- and not the guy she had met on that site.
“You know, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be amazing- and yet strange- if we knew him? Maybe we met him across the street thousands of times, and we didn’t even know it. But anyway, it doesn’t matter. Because now, you are his. And he knows that you’ll never be able to love anyone as much as you love him.” He stopped by a hot dog tray, and looked at her, serious, and sad. This was almost it, the moment that could change everything, define them and their relationship. Love or ruin. And he still had a chance. He could make her love him- as himself- before she met the other him. Before… before she thought he had played her. “I’m sorry if I’m sounding weird, it’s just that, lately, with you and this guy falling for each other, I’ve been thinking a lot and…”
She shook her head, her eyes teary, she was almost sobbing. “Don’t, Jane, don’t go there.”
But he refused her, shaking his head in a silent no. “Lately, I’ve been wondering all kinds of what ifs. What if Red John never existed? What if I met you and I’ve never been married before? What if my dad didn’t rise me the way he did? What if we had never worked together? Or we hadn’t known each other for over ten years? What if… What if we were just two people, a man and a woman across the crowd, and we’d just met…”
“Jane, please….” She begged. She was fighting, and losing, a battle. And she was confused. Jane’s forehead was resting against her own, and his breathing was irregular. Her palm was flat against his chest, trying to keep him away, and his heart was fast and crazy: he was as shaken by this as she was.
“I would ask for your number, and I wouldn’t be able to wait twenty-four hours before calling and asking “How about coffee and tea, drinks, dinner, a movie for as long as we both shall live?” That’s what I would do, Teresa. And we would never fight, if not for the remote or the movie we’d rent on the weekends…” His voice was broken, and she was close to sobbing too. No one had ever said such a thing to her. It was the most honest and romantic and sweet love declaration she had ever gotten. But right now it was too late. And besides, that wasn’t their life. All those what ifs, were just that, mere speculations that had never happened. It didn’t matter how fascinating and thrilling her life with him could be. She couldn’t risk the life she knew she could have with Alexanderson for a fantasy with Jane. Not when, any day, he could wake up and decide that that life wasn’t for him, that he wanted something more, different. God, it broke her, because she had always hoped that one day he would have chosen her, but now, now it felt… wrong? No, it wasn’t that. The truth was, she was scared. Because she preferred having Jane in her life as a friend only, she even preferred not having him at all, then having him but having him resenting her eventually. But maybe…
Reluctantly, she forced him away. She covered her mouth with an hand and hugged herself, trying to not cry, but it was hard. She didn’t know what to do. And yet, she did. But she was scared. And then, there was still that small hope, that dream, that stupid, childish voice in her head that sounded just like her mother, like Grace and like herself as a teenager al put together, that told her that she could have them both. That she was an idiot not realizing that it had been Jane all along. That it had always been Jane.
“I have to go, Jane. Please….” She was sobbing, and it broke his heart knowing that he had done so. But it was for a good reason. She had to know it. He shook his head, he was close to tears as well. And she was his best friend. She was the one who knew him as no one else, not even himself; she was the one who had changed him-who had driven him to change- and she was supposed to know that he had never cried in the open before. Never. Not even… not even back then.
“Why can’t you forgive me for everything, Teresa?” He asked as he lifted his left hand, cupping her face. “He left you there. Stood you up. And yet, you forgive him. But you can’t forgive me…” he closed his eyes as she shook her head. “How I wish you would….”
He got closer and closer, his lips were just a whisper away from hers, but Lisbon kept shaking her head, she kept her distance, her eyes firmly closed. “Jane, I…”
“You have to go. I know.” He parted, and so did she, and then she gave him her back, and walked in direction of the lake Alexanderson had told her he was going to wait for her. But she wasn’t so sure any longer he was the right choice for her. What if he wasn’t worth it? Maybe Jane was right, and despite the buts and what ifs there was room for a future for them. She wanted to ask him, she wanted to look at him one last time, thinking that she could understand with just a mere glance, but when she turned, he wasn’t there any longer.
She covered her mouth with an hand, she wanted to cry and scream and call Jane just to tell him how mad she was with him, but she couldn’t. She had made her choice, she had to go, she couldn’t be late for this. Not when she had lost everything else, and the chance to love- and of being loved back- as never before was right around the corner.
She reached the section of the park where she was supposed to meet “lover boy”, and started to look around, and then, she saw it, an old-fashioned white bench in front of the lake, with a man feeding ducks. A man with blonde curls and what appeared to be a three pieces suite.
Jane.
She cried and laughed at loud, and he stood, and looked at her, the sudden movement and noises scaring away the poor birds. She was crying - happy tears for once- shaking her head in disbelief as he was slowly and calmly walking towards her, hands in the pockets of his pants. He was smiling, his smile a mirror of her own. He was happy. And it was something she decided she couldn’t have enough of, never, ever.
He stopped before her, and lifted her chin with his right index, and erased her tears with a touch of his left hand. She gasped. “Don’t cry, my May Flower.” He grinned, chuckling, and she stopped crying. She laughed, and threw herself at him. Finally. After so long. After so many years. She could do it. He wanted for her to do it.
“I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly…” she paused, grinning against the rough fabric of his vest and shirt. “I hoped it was you. So much I thought I was crazy…”
He laughed, his smile a weapon against the tender skin of her neck. “And who was I supposed to be, Teresa? Alexanderson 44… a son of Alexander who is 44 years old… and to think that I never thought for a second that Grace could plot something like that when she told me she wanted to set me up for internet dating…”
She laughed as well, and yet there were still some tears, and he kissed all of them away. She was sweet and salt and spicy and all things Teresa. She was everything he had always thought her to be, and so much more. “I don’t care, we can think about her tomorrow… or maybe another day… I just want…”
“Coffee and tea, drinks, dinner, a movie for as long as we both shall live? I know. I know, sweetheart, I know.” He said, completing her sentence for her. He was still shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn’t believe it yet. She had forgiven him. And it was him she wanted. It had always been about him.
And then, finally, they kissed, slowly, languidly, without a care in the world. Still not knowing if blessing their redhead cupid or plotting revenge on her. But at least, now they had all that time in the world, along with coffees, tea, bear claws, drinks, dinners and movies... and who knew, maybe, one day, a wedding too.
And a certain redhead cupid as maid of honor.