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"Easy, now. Steady, steady.... There."
He moved his hands away slowly, then placed them at his side so that the urge to hold on would be repressed.
She smiled at him and pushed down on the pedals with her feet. She wobbled a little bit and giggled while his hans remained white-knuckled by his side.
She did it.
I look over at him and he's smiling.
A sigh of relief escapes my body. I ask him, shakily, "Are you okay, bud?"
The grin on his face tells me everything I need to know. I wipe the blood off of his cheek and bury my face into his neck. I'm so glad he's okay. My baby's okay.
It's unbearable. It's screaming in my ear. I cannot even fathom how loud it is. It comes in a range of types; I hear whispers, I hear screams, screeching and gasping and hollow, shallow, shaky breaths. And then?
Silence.
No amount of covering my ears can cover it.
I patted my floury hands on the dough, rolling and kneading it around. I had to make a dozen cupcakes my Friday. It wouldn't be easy. People judged me because I was different. Slow. Behind on my studies. But give me a cooking task, and I'll fulfill it like you wouldn't believe.
I looked at the tree. It was tall, thick, the bark chipping off. It's been forty years, and it didn't look any different. I smile, touching my hand over the letters. CU + HE FOREVER. A tear rolls down my cheek. I press my lips to the carving and get back into the car. Time to visit the grave...
I look up at the stars, a playground for someone to explore. The moon is platinum against the darkness of the sky. It's face is shining down toward mine. I find comfort in it, comfort in the thought that at least someone is watching me, at least someone cares, even if they're make believe. I want to be an astronomer so badly, yet I don't want to leave this earth...
I stalked around the art museum for a bit as we held hands. There were sculptures, paintings, mixed media, sketches... You name it, the museum had it. It was awkward, since it was our first date and we wanted to absorb the art fully by not talking, but we had plenty to say at dinner afterward.
The president looked up. He smiled. "Good morning, Americans. Today is Thanksgiving." He continued to smile, even though he felt his wife's hand on his shoulder. "Do you know what that means? It's a time to be thankful for what you have. I'm thankful for my life, my country, and my role here as president."
"Wow," I breathed. The view from the mountaintop was stunning. The pinnacles of vast and heavy creations gleamed, glimmered and shone in the early morning light. The sun's rays peaked from behind them, slowly gaining confidence and rising into the sky. I wish I'd had my camera... The moment was too beautiful to forget.
I shook my head back and let the noise escape me. It felt so good to laugh, to chortle, to chuckle. I hadn't done it in years; since Dad's passing, in fact. But something about Charlie made me laugh. It felt good, sitting there, holding my cup of coffee on the corner coffee shop between Joe's and Bon Ton. I let the warmth of the scenery and everything take in.
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