Torn Tears

First Encounter

"I can't stay in this house anymore." Not in the living room watching Bruce swim around. Not for another minute.

At first, his eyebrows pinch together like he misunderstood me. Then, his face goes slack and his eyes widen in shock. "You mean you want to move out?" The degree of pain in his voice is enough to sway me to change my meaning.

"No. I mean, I need out. Like for the day or to get a job or something." 

The immediate relief that I watch spread through every inch of his body makes me ache for even considering it.

He's having a hard time refraining from crossing the room, hugging me, touching me in some way. That's obvious, too.

"Name the place."

I bite my lower lip and raise my eyebrows. "I don't know the name of anywhere." I wait a beat, pull my legs to my chest. "The bookstore where we met for the first time."

Lucas thinks for a second. "The one with an attached coffee shop?"

I nod, worrying that he won't remember.

"Starbooks." He says with a grin. He stands, to come to the couch.

"A pun on Starbucks. I like it." It's odd that I feel pride at remembering something as mundane as the name of a coffee chain.

"Exactly." He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet.

A smile slides naturally onto my face. I'm dressed in blue jean shorts and blue and white polka dot shirt. Ready to go as soon as I put on shoes.

"Let me grab some shoes." For the first time, I feel excited, happy almost.

"Bottom left of your closet, probably under  a pile of clothes." He lets go of my hand.

"I know." I shoot him a funny look and walk off. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him smile in a satisfied way.

Maybe he thinks I was flirting. Maybe I was.

*****

The car ride to Starbooks is filled with Jess asking questions.

"Do I like coffee?"

"What's my favorite genre?"

"Do I like poetry?"

"Who's my favorite author?"

"What do you read?"

No. Fantasy. Yes. You have too many to list. Action/adventure.

I'm not bothered by her questions. I'm just dying to watch her reaction to visiting her favorite store.

Jess falls silent as I turn my beat up Ford into the parking lot. I watch her from the corner of my eye. Her mouth hangs just slightly open, her right hand reaches toward the storefront, pressed against the window, her whole body is turned to it with sheer excitement.

I can't help but to smile. I guess a reader's love for words can not be ebbed by anything, even memory erasure.

I wedge my car between two hulking trucks and park. Jess is out of her seat before I kill the engine. Chuckling, I jog a few steps to catch her. Every particle of her is being pulled by with countless books, pages decorated with ink. I can't blame her. Although I'm less enthusiastic about it, I love to read nearly as much as Jess.

I snake my hand into hers and twine our fingers. She doesn't even react. As we reach the door, I pull it open for her. Jess stops suddenly closing her eyes to just breathe in the beautiful scents. Coffee, hot tea, paper, ink, pens, pencils, everything. This bookstore is another home to Jess.