Don’t wake me if this is a dream…
It had been nearly a year and a half since I met Lindsey, my Lindsey. I still laugh when I think about how we met.
He had rammed his shopping cart into mine, he wasn’t looking where he was going, it seemed like he was looking over his shoulder for someone or something. I ended up with a nasty bruise across my abdomen from that encounter. Then fate must have stepped in and we met again, same supermarket, nearly the same isle. Only this time he asked me if I could help him in the melon department. It wasn’t what he said, it was that childish smirk he said it with, that implied something impure.
Instead of appalling me, I just smiled and helped him pick out what he wanted. There was something about that smile, something behind those mischievous blue eyes of his that caught my attention and had me curious to know more about him.
And that I did, know more about him, many late night dinners that turned into all night talking sessions. Some morning’s I ended up making breakfast for us; that just sparked more conversations.
He talked a little about his childhood and some of growing up, from the look on his face his past was all just something he wanted to forget. I understood and respected that. I knew that in his own time he’d tell me. I knew Lindsey kept things from me, maybe he thought it was for my own good or he was ashamed, but I told him everything. I hoped that my total honesty about my growing up would put him more at ease to tell me about his past.
I talked to him about my growing up in Tennessee with my mother. I told him why I chose to move to the suburbs of New York after my mothers passing and go to college there. Slowly but surly he knew all about my growing up happy with my mom, cooking and sewing with her, he even knew and respected that she brought me up with magick. That was a big thing to me, not that he had to like it but that he respected it was such a good feeling. Lindsey was more understanding then I thought he would be about me being a witch. Again, another surprised from one Lindsey McDonald.
Within two months we were almost never apart. The only time we were was when I worked or he was doing his thing, which more then not ended up being something for me. I told him time and time again not to do or get me anything but Lindsey is a stubborn man. He always says that a day where he doesn’t make me smile is a day lost.
I pull into our driveway and climb out of his beat up truck, turning I grab the few bags of groceries from the front seat before kicking the door closed and heading into our Montauk Point apartment.
Every time I came into the apartment I couldn’t help but grin. Less then six months ago we decided that it was best that we find a place and move in together because at the moment we were paying rent for two places when we spent most of our time together at one or the other’s place. It not only made sense but it was what we wanted.
I headed up to our apartment and quickly found my keys. Shifting the bags in my hands I unlocked the door and headed in. “Lindsey?” I called out as I placed the bags on the kitchen counter. “Sweetie, you home?” I didn’t hear anything so I put the groceries away before heading up to our bedroom, slipping off my shoes I headed to the bathroom and washed my face before brushing my hair out.
I paused mid stroke when I thought I heard the faint methodic sounds of a guitar. Hearing the sound again, I smiled, I knew exactly where he was. I quickly changed my clothes and slipped on a long skirt and a long sleeved V-neck shirt. I pulled the sides of my hair back and slipped on my shoes again.
I grabbed my light jacket and headed out the door, I started walking up the stone path, the wind from the bay blowing in my hair as I heard the faint melody of Lindsey’s guitar, and giving away his whereabouts. He was in his favorite place to unwind and play: the lighthouse.
He had rammed his shopping cart into mine, he wasn’t looking where he was going, it seemed like he was looking over his shoulder for someone or something. I ended up with a nasty bruise across my abdomen from that encounter. Then fate must have stepped in and we met again, same supermarket, nearly the same isle. Only this time he asked me if I could help him in the melon department. It wasn’t what he said, it was that childish smirk he said it with, that implied something impure.
Instead of appalling me, I just smiled and helped him pick out what he wanted. There was something about that smile, something behind those mischievous blue eyes of his that caught my attention and had me curious to know more about him.
And that I did, know more about him, many late night dinners that turned into all night talking sessions. Some morning’s I ended up making breakfast for us; that just sparked more conversations.
He talked a little about his childhood and some of growing up, from the look on his face his past was all just something he wanted to forget. I understood and respected that. I knew that in his own time he’d tell me. I knew Lindsey kept things from me, maybe he thought it was for my own good or he was ashamed, but I told him everything. I hoped that my total honesty about my growing up would put him more at ease to tell me about his past.
I talked to him about my growing up in Tennessee with my mother. I told him why I chose to move to the suburbs of New York after my mothers passing and go to college there. Slowly but surly he knew all about my growing up happy with my mom, cooking and sewing with her, he even knew and respected that she brought me up with magick. That was a big thing to me, not that he had to like it but that he respected it was such a good feeling. Lindsey was more understanding then I thought he would be about me being a witch. Again, another surprised from one Lindsey McDonald.
Within two months we were almost never apart. The only time we were was when I worked or he was doing his thing, which more then not ended up being something for me. I told him time and time again not to do or get me anything but Lindsey is a stubborn man. He always says that a day where he doesn’t make me smile is a day lost.
I pull into our driveway and climb out of his beat up truck, turning I grab the few bags of groceries from the front seat before kicking the door closed and heading into our Montauk Point apartment.
Every time I came into the apartment I couldn’t help but grin. Less then six months ago we decided that it was best that we find a place and move in together because at the moment we were paying rent for two places when we spent most of our time together at one or the other’s place. It not only made sense but it was what we wanted.
I headed up to our apartment and quickly found my keys. Shifting the bags in my hands I unlocked the door and headed in. “Lindsey?” I called out as I placed the bags on the kitchen counter. “Sweetie, you home?” I didn’t hear anything so I put the groceries away before heading up to our bedroom, slipping off my shoes I headed to the bathroom and washed my face before brushing my hair out.
I paused mid stroke when I thought I heard the faint methodic sounds of a guitar. Hearing the sound again, I smiled, I knew exactly where he was. I quickly changed my clothes and slipped on a long skirt and a long sleeved V-neck shirt. I pulled the sides of my hair back and slipped on my shoes again.
I grabbed my light jacket and headed out the door, I started walking up the stone path, the wind from the bay blowing in my hair as I heard the faint melody of Lindsey’s guitar, and giving away his whereabouts. He was in his favorite place to unwind and play: the lighthouse.