Here Comes the Sun | ✓

Chapter Twenty-Three - Liam

        Jere lifts his head and looks at her. "What?"

        "Well..." she waits, hoping to catch his attention.

        "What?" he asks again, growing impatient.

        "I was wondering... would you like to help me complete one?"

      "What's on it?" he asks, as if he's been on board since she pulled out the paper minutes before.

        "Depends."

        "Can you read it for me?"

        "Of course! But can your daddy help us with the thing we pick?"

        He nods excitedly. "And Jimmy?"

        Libby looks at me, and I purse my lips to the side. "Jimmy's at his last day of school, kiddo. Maybe next time."

        He nods again, sinking the information in before remembering he has a task to complete. "Read please!"

        She chooses carefully - scanning the list for something kid-appropriate I guess. "Watch a ton of Disney movies in one day?"

        "Yeah!" Jere shouts, turning to me with ecstatic features. "Please, Daddy?"

        I laugh, rubbing his bedhead. "That was only the first one you heard! Don't you want to hear more?"

        "I guess," he sighs, after a small moment of thinking.

        "Hm," Libby thinks, until she finds another one. "Build a blanket fort?"

        "Yeah!" Jere shouts again, and this time all of us laugh. "Can we?" he asks us, and Libby looks at me with her pale lips curved up to her brown eyes.

        "Why not both?" she asks me, and I look at her as if she were the one I've been waiting for my whole life.

        "Both it is."

        Jere's upstairs in his room, creating an avalanche of VCR tapes on the floor from the shelves they once stood upon, storing his favorite Disney movies in a reusable Walmart bag to bring downstairs to our makeshift tent made of blankets, pillows, couches, and chairs.

        I'm taking out the box of popcorn we have left from the movie night Jere, Jimmy, and I had a few months back, closing the pantry door behind me as I placed the box on the counter. Libby looks at me, hair ratty and eyes bright, with a somewhat cool admiration on her face.

        "What?" I ask, stepping towards her and playing with some of the leafs of hair that poked out at some places on her head. She smiles and shakes her head slightly, turning to the popcorn box and taking out one of the microwavable bags. "No, seriously Lib. What's up?"

        I watch her as she steps away from me and walks across the quaint kitchen to where the microwave is set up, sliding the limp bag in and closing the door while punching in the time for it to heat up. I admire her small body, her slim features and long legs that stand her up strong.

        She turns around in the kitchen, and for a moment I take in the feeling of what it's like having her in my clothes.

        After Jere had run to his room to gather blankets and pillows, I had hurriedly gathered a pair of slacks with adjustable ties at the waist for her to wear. She only laughed when I handed them to her, taking them politely and sliding them on under the covers for the sake of my sanity.

        I step towards her in the kitchen, and she just watches me as I slowly make my way towards her and all the way to where we are toe-to-toe. She leans her head on my chest, and I engulf her in my arms, protecting her from whatever is saddening her. I reach up with one hand and pet her hair again, stunned by it's beauty - no, her beauty.

        After a few silent moments and I can still hear Jere thumping upstairs in his room, I kiss the top of her head and ask what's wrong. She sighs against me, leaning back against the counter and reaching to look at me in the eyes. Meeting her gaze, we look at each other and I know instantly that it's the same thing from what was bothering her this morning.

        "Something's wrong," I repeat this morning's words, and she smiles a small, meek smile at the memory. She nods. "What is it?"

        She squeezes her eyes shut and I reach to smooth out the crease that's formed between her eyebrows. "It's impossible to have something 'wrong' when I'm with you," she ends up saying, and I shake my head.

        Although I'm flattered, I'm more concerned than anything. She sees this when she opens her eyes again and my hands are cupping her cheeks softly. So many emotions are coursing through me in all sorts of ways, and it's difficult for me to express it in the way that will feel right. So, instead, I say, "You never have to feel like you need to keep something from me." I stroke my hand over her hair and to the nape of her neck. "Ever."

        She hesitates. "They cancelled my hotel room." She says these words like they are practiced, stale and emotionless. "I don't know what to do."

        I shake my head, wanting to laugh. "Don't know what to do, huh?" I say, and she shakes her head. I smile down at her fondly, and for some reason, I fold my arms around her and envelope her into a hug, whispering in her ear softly, "Stay here."

        "Here?" she asks against my shirt. "Are you sure?"

        "Yes. And if you're worried about Jimmy, I'm sure he'd say the same thing."

        I hear her giggle and she nods, backing away from my hug and reaching for my face. Cupping her hands on my cheeks just the same I did to her earlier, she smiles at me warmly. "Thank you," she says, before her lips touch mine.