Nicola
Three weeks pass by in a flash. Three glorious, beautiful weeks. There are some more shifts at work, I’ve bought a sewing machine and some fabric with the extra cash, the weather is starting to get warmer and Ava has become obsessed with bugs (thank you A Bug’s Life). But for the most part, these three weeks have been one naked, hazy, sweat-slicked sex fest.
Bram is insatiable and the more he screws me every which way, the more insatiable I’ve become in return. Every single moment that we’re alone, he’s inside me – cock, tongue, fingers – and I’m starting to feel like the sexual goddess he keeps saying I am. It makes me wonder how I’ve even survived for so long without this in it. I understand now why sex is so goddamn important to people – it gives us life, it makes us feel more alive.
And it brings us connection. It’s not just a fuck or a shag. It’s not just orgasms and exploring each other’s bodies. We’re exploring each other’s souls as well. I know that’s a cheesy way to think about things, but it’s true. The more I sleep with Bram, the more we talk, the more we don’t even need to talk. We just feel each other on this other level, this current of intimacy that’s scary as hell but addicting all the same.
Naturally, I don’t know if he feels the same way that I do. That I’m falling. Bit by bit. That I feel like I understand him on levels I didn’t think possible. But I at least know that sometimes I catch him looking at me and it’s like he thinks I’m magic.
I keep thinking back to what my mother said about that, to never let it go once you’ve found it. God forbid anything from trying to derail what we are and where we might be headed, but I have no intentions of ever letting go.
The only hiccup in the last few weeks is that while I’ve been busier with more shifts, Bram has been busier with more meetings with the city, organizations, and investors. It’s great that his idea is going full-steam ahead, but it does mean we don’t see each other as much as we used to. It’s usually just nights and that’s probably why we cling to each other in the sex-soaked fog like we do.
Tonight though, it’s Monday and I don’t have to work. Bram’s free this evening, so he’s bringing over some Thai takeout for us. Even though takeout food is the worst thing for Ava, he goes out of his way to make sure she has steamed rice and vegetables with no msg and nothing but a little soy sauce, just so she won’t feel left out.
The three of us are sitting around my kitchen table and I’m currently fanning my mouth with my hand because I think I got a load of chilies in my bite of Pad Thai. Bram is watching me with amusement, perhaps even more amused than normal.
“Sorry I don’t have a tongue of steel,” I tell him, slurping back a gulp of white wine to cool the burn.
He lets out a small laugh. “It’s hot even for me.” He looks at Ava then back at me. “Do you girls want to hear something fun?”
“Yes!” Ava says enthusiastically.
Since he included both of us in that question, I figure it can’t be perverted. And so, I’m intrigued.
“What?” I ask, putting my chopsticks down.
Now he’s grinning to himself, like he’s about to tell a joke and is already laughing at the punchline.
“Bram,” I remind him, “what’s fun?”
“Okay, okay,” he says, biting his lip. He’s so damn handsome sometimes I forget my own name. He goes on, “How would you two like to go on a little adventure together?”
“Are we going to IKEA?” Ava asks.
“We are never going to IKEA again,” I tell her. “That’s a bad word in this house now.”
She pouts a little but eyes Bram expectantly.
“Definitely not going there,” he says. “But we are going somewhere that Ava has probably dreamed about going. I must warn you though, little one, you must be brave.”
Her eyes widen, but she nods, serious. “I can be brave. I get the ouchies, I am brave.”
He leans closer to her and whispers, “There are giant bugs there.”
“Bugs!” she cries out. “Oh, I want to see the giant bugs.”
Okay, I have no idea what he’s talking about but I totally don’t want to see any giant bugs.
“Are we going camping?” I ask him, trying not to shudder.
“No,” he says. “But before you say anything, just know that I’ve booked you off the next four days from work.”
“You did what?”
“Don’t worry,” he attempts to placate me, “I’ve already talked to James, it’s not a problem.”
“Yeah, but it’s still money lost!”
“I said don’t worry.” He reaches out and puts his hand on mine, giving it a squeeze. “Please. You deserve this trip. You both do.”
“I’m not sure anyone deserves a trip to giant bug land.”
“Even if it’s located in,” dramatic pause, “Disneyland?”
Oh my God. Did he dare say the word Disneyland around Ava? That’s like conjuring up Beetlejuice, except instead of Michael Keaton appearing, Ava turns into a rocket of a child, like she’s fueled by one million tons of sugar.
“Disneyland!” she shrieks. It’s ear-piercing. “Disneyland!”
I eye Bram who is clearly enjoying himself. “Please tell me you’re serious, because if you don’t take her to Disneyland now—”
“I am completely serious. And I’m glad you’re all for it.”
“Well, of course, I am. Who doesn’t want to go to Disneyland?”
He shrugs. “I’m sure most adults don’t. Didn’t you see Louise CK’s sketch? Personally, I think those adults are no fun, but I’ve got to say, sweetheart, I’m glad you’re not one of them.” He looks at Ava who is practically bouncing out of her seat. “And I can’t imagine a better place for Ava to have some fun too.”
I try to go back to eating my food but I can’t. I’m just so overwhelmed. Giddy. Maybe just as excited as my daughter. Later, when Ava is playing in her room and we’re in the kitchen putting the dishes away, I turn to him, grabbing him by the wrists and pulling him close.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, my guilt seeping in.
“I know I don’t have to do anything.” He kisses me on the forehead. “I want to. I can’t wait to see you act like a kid.”
And I can’t wait to have him there with me. “How did you know that I’ve always wanted to go to Disneyland with someone I’m…with?” Eep, almost said something else there, got to keep going. “The last time I was there I think I was eighteen and with a girlfriend and everywhere you looked there were couples making out. I’ve always wanted to be one of those annoying couples.”
“We can annoy the shit out of the whole park,” he murmurs, kissing me lightly on the lips. “But, perhaps, I need some practice first.”
I sink into his kiss, letting it fuel me, feeling the need swarm over my bones. I nearly forget that he was being a cheeseball. I break away, placing my hands on his chest, feeling his hard muscles underneath. “Thank you,” I tell him softly. “Ava has always wanted to go…I’ve never been able to take her.”
He nods. He knows. “Good thing is that, by waiting, she’ll not only remember it more but she’ll enjoy it more too.”
“So when are we going?”
“Tomorrow morning,” he says. “Bright and early. So get your arse packing.” He places a wide hand on my ass and squeezes. “Or I’ll get your arse spanking.”
I grin at him. “Maybe I can have both?”
He grabs me by the bottoms of my ass cheeks and lifts me up in the air until my legs are wrapped around him. He then takes me to the bedroom and we lock the door, hoping we can at least steal a few minutes with each other.
***
When Bram says early, for us it actually means the crack of dawn. It’s just about 6:30 am when he knocks at my door. Ava is in the bathroom brushing her teeth with her new bubblegum toothpaste after it took about ten minutes to rouse her awake. She only perked up when I mentioned the word “Disneyland.” I can’t blame her though. You know those old Disneyland commercials with the kids bouncing around in their pajamas in the middle of the night, yelling, “I’m too excited to sleep!” Well, that was pretty much last night in a nutshell. Zero sleep was had in the Price household.
I tuck my shower-damp hair behind my ears and open the door expecting to see Bram.
My mouth drops open.
It’s Bram all right, dressed in jeans, boots, and a simple tee with a sleek leather duffel bag at his feet. But it’s what’s in his hands that has me practically swooning.
Okay, I’m totally swooning.
“Is that for Ava?” I ask, almost breathless.
He nods proudly, maybe even a bit sheepishly. In his hands is a child-sized princess dress, the pink Sleeping Beauty one that Aurora wears at the end of the movie. It even has the crown and veil attached. I think I might just die right here.
“I hope it fits her,” he says. “It’s hard to find those Disney Stores anymore.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I tell him, my heart thumping around in my chest. “That’s the nicest, cutest, sweetest thing I think anyone has ever done for her.”
“Well,” he says, rubbing his hands along his jaw. “I did it for her and I did it for you.”
I swallow hard, surprised at the burning in my eyes. No lie, I’m this close to crying. It’s crazy how such a simple and somehow ridiculously romantic gesture undoes me. No one has ever thought of my girl with such regard.
And there goes a tear, rolling hot down my cheek.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Bram murmurs, stepping into the apartment and enveloping me into a hug. “Don’t cry. It was nothing. I just thought she’d like to dress up as a princess on the ride down.”
“But you remembered Sleeping Beauty and the spindle and the needle and it’s soooo pretty.” I’m a blubbering, incoherent mess as I cry into his arms.
He puts his hand at the back of my head and holds me there. “Well, I’m glad you like it.” I know he sounds so breezy about the whole thing but, then again, how can he understand what this means to me? So many years and no one has done something like this, no one has ever thought of me and Ava that much. It’s then that I realize how tired I am, how much I’ve been pushed to the side, how much I’ve pushed myself to the side. It feels so fucking good to have someone care about us.
Just then, Ava comes out of the bathroom. She slowly walks over to us, her head tilted. She points at the dress.
“What’s that?” she asks, hope sparking in her eyes.
Bram crouches down to her level. “Who is your favorite princess?”
“Aurora,” she says smartly. “She pricked her finger on the spindle, just like I do.”
“That’s because you are a princess,” he says, displaying the dress in front of her in a shimmering waterfall of magenta, pink and gold. “And this is your princess dress.”
Her mouth makes an O and her eyes widen comically. “What?” She looks at me, almost begging for it to be true. I wipe away a tear with my hand and nod.
“It’s all yours, angel.”
She carefully takes the dress from Bram’s hands and examines it. “It must be made out of cotton candy,” she muses, absolutely dazzled by it.
“Can you go try it on yourself or do you need my help?” I ask her, knowing full well she needs my help.
“I can do it!” She runs off to her bedroom.
“Say thank you to Bram!” I yell after her.
“Thank you, Bram!” I hear her say from the other room.
A half an hour later the three of us – with Ava dressed as a princess – are in Bram’s car and we’re making our way down the 101, lucky that the traffic jam is on the other side. The three of us can’t stop smiling and the day is full of such promise that it almost makes me dizzy.
Six hours later, after countless toilet breaks and pit stops and the never ending, “Are we there yet?” we pull off the freeway and onto Katella Avenue. This is Ava’s first glimpse at Disneyland and I’m pointing out the top of the Matterhorn and Space Mountain, the Monorail and the Ferris Wheel and California Screaming Coaster in the distance. She looks absolutely terrified at those rides but I assure her there are many of them that she’ll love and at that she starts boogying in her seat.
Bram didn’t spare any expense and got us a suite at the Disney Grand Californian Lodge, located right in Disney’s California Adventure Park. When I was young the park didn’t even exist, so it was as much fun for me as it was for Ava to step inside the hotel and have everything be brand new. And let’s face it, even if the park was here when I was younger, there was no way we could have afforded to stay there. The same goes for the Disneyland Hotel. Though it’s dated now, it’s still an arm and a leg for a room and when I was young, my parents believed in spending as little on the hotels as possible. Who cares if you were sleeping in a Super 8, as long as you were spending all day and evening at the park.
But Bram cares, and in turn, I care. The beds are clean, fresh and comfortable, the room tastefully decorated in the style of some grand lodge near Yosemite or Mammoth Lakes and we have a view through ponderosa pine and over the bear-shaped rock peak of the Grizzly River Rapids.
I’m pretty much exhausted because I’ve been on a six-hour road trip that has drained me like nothing else but Ava slept for a lot of the drive and now she’s bouncing around the room, losing her goddamn mind.
“No rest for the weary,” I say to Bram, feeling bad since he had to drive the whole way.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweetheart, but I have stamina for days.”
That he does. I go about making a day pack for Ava including the right snacks, water, her insulin kit, floppy hat, a spare pair of shoes and, of course, sunscreen. Then we head on out to enjoy the park.
Because we’re tired, we plan on only spending the day in California Adventure. Ava doesn’t know the difference between the two parks, plus there, she got to head into A Bug’s Land and go nuts for hours.
As she does just that, Bram and I hold hands and watch as she plays in the different areas, pretending to be bug-sized, darting in and out of water fountains. When it’s time to go on a ride, she grabs my hand and pulls me onto a Chinese take-out box that zooms around in a circle. Though these aren’t the rides I ever dreamed of riding, she’s having the time of her life. If it was up to me, of course, we’d be hitting up California Screaming and The Tower of Terror, but seeing everything through my little girl’s eyes makes it that much more fun.
We end the day with Bram and I grabbing a beer and wine in the faux vineyard before we hop on the Cars Mater’s tractor ride (which, in hindsight, isn’t the best idea after a drink). Bram and I have been taking turns on and off riding with Ava and though she’s less likely to shriek like a banshee around him, you can still tell she’s having a lot of fun. Scratch that – she’s having the time of her life.
The first two days at Disneyland and California Adventure are pretty much the same. We wake up early and head to the parks, breathing in the smell of churros, popcorn and turkey legs all while the tinkling music fills the air. We hit up all the kiddie rides – for some reason they have the longest lines – and then gorge on whatever food we can find. Somehow we manage to convince Ava to ride the Grizzly River Rapids with us and we all got so completely soaked that she was the only one who ended up loving it. Thankfully, the hot SoCal heat dried us off in minutes.
And of course she meets all her favorite characters including Eyeore and Sleeping Beauty. Bram and I both posed in some of the photos with her, though that wasn’t my doing. He volunteered to be in the pictures and Ava looked like she was over the moon about his wanting to be a part of it.
The truth is, I’m still a bit uneasy about the whole thing and I’m glad that there are pictures of her on her own as well. As much as I’m falling for Bram – and I know I am, I mean how can any woman worth her salt not love this man? – I don’t know what the future brings. I would hate to have us break up, break apart, or whatever it’s called, and then be stuck with these photographs. At least now if that happens, I can burn them, pretend he never existed, and still have photos of Ava left over.
I think Bram can kind of sense my train of thought though, because he’s being extra attentive and yet distant at the same time. I don’t want to bring it up with him the whole, “what is this, what are we?” talk because that tends to ruin the very carefree and fun thing you have, so I don’t.
But that night, as we’re lying in bed together after some slow, passionate love-making, Bram says, “I know why you’re hesitant with me.”
I stiffen, not sure what direction this is going to take. “What do you mean?”
“Oh come on,” he says. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you practically flinched when I asked to be in the photos.”
I take in a deep breath, wishing he didn’t bring it up. “Look, it doesn’t mean anything so don’t take it personally.”
“Well, I am going to take it personally,” he says. He turns over to look at me, propping his head up with his hand. “You don’t want me in the pictures because you still think I’m going to up and leave you, that this is just a bloody fling.”
“No, not exactly,” I say feebly. “It’s just that…okay, maybe it’s a bit of that. But you have to understand that it’s just been me and Ava for a long time.”
“Steph had said you were dating someone else for a while between Phil and…well, this.”
Did she now? It had me wondering how often Steph and him talked.
I sigh. “His name was Ben. He was a nice guy and that was that. Neither of us were really into the relationship.”
“But Ava liked him, didn’t she?”
I give him a steady look. “What makes you say that?”
He shrugs with one shoulder. “Because you seem scared that the same thing will happen again. That Ava will grow attached to me – that even you, yourself, with your damn heart in a cage – will grow attached to me too.”
I feel my skin go hot. “My heart is not in a cage,” I say, defensive. “And Ava has been attached to you from that moment we first went in your car. The damage with her has already been done.”
“But what about the damage with you?” he asks gruffly, peering at me even closer. “And how can what we have be called anything close to damaging?”
He really doesn’t understand, does he?
“Because….” I grapple for words. “Because, when you invite someone in and they leave, they take a part of you with them. It ruins the foundation. Don’t you see? It’s damaging when you pull the bricks out and the whole building collapses.”
He rubs a hand angrily over his face, letting out an immensely loud sigh. “Hearts aren’t bloody buildings, Nicola!” He throws the covers off of him and gets out of bed, pacing back and forth. He’s nude but for once, my eyes are drawn to the tension in his face. I don’t even think to look at his dick.
“I’m sorry,” I hiss at him, sitting up in bed. “I know they aren’t but, God, I wish you knew what it was like to be me. To just know what it’s like to be dealt the shitty hand.”
He stops and gives me an incredulous look. I regret saying anything. He’s that wide-eyed, his brow knitting with anger. “You think you’re the only one who has been dealt the shitty hand in life?” He leans forward with his hands on the mattress, looking me dead in the eye. “My mother never told me she loved me growing up. My father was never proud of me, no matter what I did. I had to live with that, deal with that. I was shipped off to boarding schools half the time because no one in my family knew what to do with me. You want to talk about the shitty hand, well I got it. I was fucking unwanted. And yes, I had money and I had everything else at my fingertips. But that doesn’t mean dickshit when you don’t have someone to tell you they love you.”
My breath is caught in my lungs. I can see his pulse ticking along in his throat, the desperation in his eyes that want so much for me to see him, the real him, to understand. And I do. Not in the exact same way, but I do.
He swallows and looks away for a moment. “Hey,” he says, his voice low. He climbs on top of the mattress toward me and I’m reminded of the first time we made love. But instead of that carnal desire as he approached me, there’s something else. That extra level of connection that I thought may have been only in my head.
“Nicola,” he says, placing both his hands on either side of my face, gazing into my eyes with such deep focus. “I know you’ve been burned. But I’ve been burned too. Maybe our ashes can make something beautiful together.”
He kisses me then with such force, such passion, I feel like the wind has literally been sucked out of me. I want nothing more than for something beautiful to rise from us together. I have my demons and apparently he has his.
We waste little time in getting intimate. He’s inside me and instead of the lazy, luxurious romp we had just before, this one is crazed and desperate. It’s like he’s handing himself to me, afraid if I don’t take it now, he’ll lose me forever.
But he won’t lose me.
Because I am absolutely in love with this man.
And that realization is terrifying. Because he was so, so wrong about hearts and buildings being different. They are the same. They are structures that keep us safe, that shield us from the elements. And the minute they start to falter, everything else is at risk.
A heart can be condemned, just as a building can be.
A heart can be destroyed by a sledgehammer disguised as rejection, by a bulldozer masquerading as a careless word. A heart can be blasted to pieces and ruined to the ground.
But even knowing all that, I need to move forward. I need to take that chance. I need to trust in Bram and trust in myself that giving myself to him, opening myself to love and letting myself fall for the first time in my whole life, doesn’t have to end in rubble.
It can reach the clouds, pierce the sky. It can be that bridge from the life I had before, from that person I knew before, to something so much better.
I don’t tell him this though. I don’t dare. I keep these feelings – I love you, I need you, I crave you – and the fears – you’ll break me, you’ll wreck me, you’ll condemn me – all to myself. But I let him inside that night. I let him in deep. I want him to discover these parts on his own, without the fanfare, without the expectations.
And when he comes, his eyes holding so much magic, and I think that maybe he knows.
Maybe he finally knows just what he is to me.