Passion. Heat. Lust.
An overwhelming amount of butterflies fleeting throughout my entire body.
Those are just a few of the ways to describe what it's like to kiss Tommy Sallow. When his eyes focused on mine, sliding down to my lips and back up, I knew what was coming next. I hoped for it, ached for it. But I don't think any amount of fantasizing about that moment compared to what it was actually like to feel his tongue slide across mine. I didn't even know kissing someone could carry that amount of power. But it did. And now I can't stop thinking about the fact that he will be here any minute. The only problem is that he's coming for movie night, with both Mia and me. Which means my very adult rated thoughts need to be detained to a PG version.
I know what you're thinking. How am I possibly going to manage sitting on a couch beside him and stay in the zone of Disney rated thoughts? That's a great question. One that I'll answer when I actually figure it out.
My eyes catch movement through the window, and I watch as his car pulls into the driveway. My eyes quickly flash back to Mia as a thought crosses my mind. She's been laser focused on her project and still seems to be locked in. Glitter flying everywhere as she decorates her paper.
"Hey, Mia," her eyes glance up. "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay, Mommy," she smiles, eyes snapping back to the piece in front of her.
I rest my hand on her shoulder before quickly stepping to the door, flinging it open and closing it behind me. Tommy steps onto the porch and I don't give him a moment to greet me before I leap into his arms, crashing my lips to his. He doesn't stumble, lifting me up as I wrap my legs around his waist. In two more strides, he has me pushed up against the wall beside the door, parting my lips with his, sliding his tongue across mine.
I run my hand through his hair, deepening the kiss even more as I pull him tighter against me. With his hand now firm on my ass, he holds me up against the wall as his body pushes into mine, sending a delightful tingle down my spine. There's something delectably sinful about kissing Tommy Sallow. The way his tongue so smoothly tangles with mine. The way his hands perfectly search my body and how each one of his muscles tense and flex with every movement sends this sense of passion and lust straight to my core. Kissing him is like taking a car for a test drive. It's fun, exciting, but all you really want to do is claim it as yours before you peel out of the lot and take off with your new toy.
"Hi," I whisper against his lips.
"Hi," he smiles back.
"Sorry," I exhale. "I really needed to do that before I'm forced to keep my hands to myself the rest of the night."
His eyes darken as his head falls to mine. "Don't apologize for kissing me. Besides, I could really get used to this kind of greeting," he smirks before pressing his lips to mine again.
"Me too," I say, pulling my lips from his. "But we should probably get inside before Mia comes looking for me."
He slowly places me back down, taking a small step to the side and intertwining his fingers with mine. Such a small gesture yet the butterflies seem to enjoy it.
I pull him to the door, keeping my hand in his. It's not until we reach the kitchen where Mia resides that I drop it. I may have made the decision to step away from moving slow, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to flaunt this in Mia's face. Not yet. Not before I can fully explain exactly what this is.
"Hey Tommy," Mia says from the kitchen counter as she focuses on her precise cutting. She's been at it all day trying to make the perfect snowflakes. She's actually not half bad at it. I made a few myself, but I seem to be drawn more to hers. The slanted cuts and jagged lines make for a more unique and creative masterpiece.
"Hi Mia," he smiles, walking up beside her as he glances at the piles of tiny white paper collecting at the edge of the table along with the blue and silver glitter that's now scattered across the counter. The mess should stress me out, but it actually seems to have the opposite effect. As Lacy always says, art is messy. And for the first time, I'm allowed to make a mess. She's allowed to make a mess. Something that seems to have made us both laugh today.
"What are you doing?" he asks, taking a seat beside her. I smile at his genuine interest, just as he always has when he talks to her.
"I'm making snowflakes," she beams. "Mommy said I can make as many as I want. I'm going to fill all the windows!"
He chuckles beside her. "Oh yeah? I think you're going to make this place look like a winter wonderland."
She smiles up at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Christmas is my favorite!" she nearly shouts. "Does your house look magical like ours?"
His eyes drop for a moment as something falls over him. He attempts to recover quickly. "I don't think anyone has as much magic as you."
"That's true," she confidently agrees, causing both of us to laugh. "Mommy always gets the biggest tree so we can cover it in sparkly ornaments and pretty lights."
"Yeah?" he questions with a smile as he turns his body to inspect the tree that's scraping the ceiling while also managing to nearly occupy the entire living room.
I may have underestimated the downgrade in the size of our current living situation. My brother even chopped off an extra few inches just to get it to fit without bending at the top. Not to mention that I almost took out the couch for the month in order to get it to fit in front of the window. I mean, we could have made it a month sitting on the floor instead, right? Thankfully, after a long process of rearranging the set up about five different times, we managed to make it all fit. The whole circus act getting everything to work had Mia giggling the entire time, so I think it was worth it.
"Do you have a big tree, too?" Mia asks him now.
He hesitates again and I watch as he struggles for his words.
His eyes meet mine, and I know he's looking for just the right words. I learned recently that holidays are not his favorite time of the year. The fact that such a spirited time has been tainted for him, breaks something in me. I know what it's like to associate pain with the holidays. I know because holidays for me haven't always been great either. It's not like I get a holiday from the alcoholic husband who likes to take his insecurities and stresses out on me. The thing is, having a kid, it somehow keeps the magic of Christmas alive. It's like no matter how bad the real world is, I could always escape into the enchanted realm of innocence with her. Something that I actually looked forward to instead of hid from.
"Not exactly," he finally answers before dropping his eyes.
"Oh," she nods, adding some extra glitter to the snowflake in front of her. "Well, does the one you have sparkle and shine like ours?"
He hesitates, lifting his eyes to hers before shaking his head.
I can tell the words are struggling to form for him now. I've seen that look before. It's the look of trying to avoid disappointment. Instead of letting him go down that slippery slope, one I've stared at way too many times as a parent, I quickly jump in. "You know," I begin, pulling Mia's attention to me. "He hasn't had a chance to decorate yet."
His eyes meet mine, a sense of relief and gratitude in them now.
"Oh," she perks up. "Why?"
Of course she would ask why. It's her favorite question. I start to provide an explanation when Tommy beats me to it.
"Actually, Mia," he says, turning to face her a bit more now. "I actually don't have any decorations yet."
The word yet jumps out in front of me, and I can't help but wonder the exact meaning of it. Is he trying to provide her comfort, or does he actually plan to get some? I really hope it's the latter. That somehow through the painful memories, he can manage to find the glamorous charm that Christmas can bring. The sense of hope and possibility for something better.
"So you don't have any decorations?" Mia asks, pausing mid snowflake to look up at him.
I can see a small break in his eyes. He feels like he's letting her down and that concern on his face warms my heart. "No, I don't," he says quietly.
She looks back at the mess of glue, glitter, rhinestones, and scraps of paper in front of her. Her eyes traveling the scattered scene. A moment later, she slowly reaches for her stack of snowflakes. The very ones she spent nearly the entire day making. Her delicate hand rests upon the pile as she slides it in front of Tommy.
"Here you go," she says, smiling up at him. "You can have my snowflakes."
His eyes quickly flash to hers. "I can't take these, Mia. You worked so hard on them."
"I know. But Mommy says Christmas is about giving and helping others. And I think everyone should have a magical home at Christmas. So, you can have them."
My heart nearly bursts from my chest. Watching her repeat back the words I have only hoped would resonate with her and then actually seeing her implement them has completely overwhelmed the amount of love my chest can bear the weight of.
My eyes travel to Tommy's now as I fight the wall of tears covering my vision. That's when I see a similar warmth overtaking him, and I honestly don't think my heart can handle this many jolts of electricity.
"Thank you, Mia," he smiles, a tiny, nearly unnoticeable break in his voice appears as he says her name, causing yet another wave of emotion flooding through me. "I will make sure to put these up as soon as I get home."
"You're welcome," she smiles, before turning back to the paper in her hand as if the most magical moment of all didn't just take place in front of us.
~~~
This entire night has been perfect. From ordering pizza to popping popcorn to just sitting together on the couch, quietly watching a movie. Everything has just been so extraordinarily ordinary. And that's exactly what has made it so perfect. There's been moments of pure laughter and moments of comforting silence, both equally amazing in their own way.
There was no lingering weight of waiting for the veil to fall. Of counting the minutes until the night would take a heinous turn. I never once checked the time or felt a sense of panic to get Mia to bed. Actually, it just so happens to be past her bedtime, but that just adds to the beauty of this evening. I have no pressure to follow a schedule. No tremble of anticipation at what could happen. I am just enjoying every little ounce of normalcy.
I could really get used to this. To movie nights and carefree joy. Of cuddling beside the firm, warm body to my left while holding Mia to my right.
As the credits begin to roll, I rub Mia's arm, causing her eyes to drift up to mine. "Hey," I whisper, seeing the heavy pull of her eyes. "Why don't you go brush your teeth. I'll be there in a minute to help you."
She slowly nods against me before pushing her body from the couch. She saunters down the hall and as she turns the corner to the bathroom, I shift slightly against Tommy. My eyes latch to his, creating a smile on both of our faces. A smile that reaches the constant beat in my chest.
His eyes flicker to the hall briefly before coming back to mine. His face pulls closer and I finish closing the space between us, letting our lips finally touch. He holds it there for a moment before pulling away, respecting the fact that Mia is only down the hall.
Just when I open my mouth to speak, my phone begins ringing beside me. I reach my hand to grab it but don't pull away from his comfort. That is until I see Vince's name displayed across the screen. I sit up, scooting to the end of the cushion before glancing back at Tommy. He nods slightly before dropping his head. I can't quite read his mood, but I don't have time to try and figure it out.
As I stand from the couch, I bring the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"I just got your message about the party," he states bluntly. As usual, no hello, no wondering how I'm doing. Not that I feel like having small talk anyway.
I make my way into the kitchen. "Okay. Are you able to come?"
"No. I have some work obligations this week. But I will be there for Christmas like we talked about. I'll fly in on the morning of the twenty-fourth as discussed, but I will need to leave on the twenty-sixth."
"That's the day after Christmas," I feel the need to state the obvious because clearly he isn't registering the tiny amount of time he's going to be spending with his daughter. "You're only planning to spend a day and half with her?"
I hear his frustrated sigh through the phone, one that sends that familiar burn of ice through my veins. "I have a conference in Seattle that I need to be at and other obligations before that. If you weren't so damn far away, it wouldn't be this difficult to make all of these events."
Of course. The distance is again an issue. Distance I created. "Vince, these aren't just events, and you haven't seen her in months."
"And whose fault is that?" His voice raises, causing me to jump slightly at the change in his tone.
Instead of arguing or defending my choices, I relent. "Okay. Then I'll see you on the twenty-fourth," I say calmly, trying my best to even my breathing. "Would you like to tell her why you won't be here for her birthday or do you want me to do that?"
His lack of response is good enough for me, so I hand the phone off to Mia and make my way back to the couch, falling onto the cushions with a sigh.
"Are you okay?" Tommy asks as his hand rests on my leg. The immediate warmth of his touch thawing out the frost blanketing my body.
"Yes." I sit up and turn to meet his eyes. He's already busy reading me and it's useless to be dishonest when my whole mood has shifted, so I correct myself right away, "Actually, I don't really know."
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest. I stay there for a moment, just taking in the calm of his embrace.
"Part of my heart breaks for her," I start to explain. "She doesn't understand the full truth of why we left. Why I had to take her so far from him. So every time the distance becomes an inevitable obstacle, I'm reminded of what she's missing with him."
His fingers begin to dance along my arm, creating a peaceful pattern.
My voice drops low as I go on, "But then there's this other part of me...the part that's thankful he can't be here for more than two days." I quickly turn to see his face, to see the reaction to my words. "Does that make me a horrible mom? To find peace in the fact that he's missing more time with her?"
"No," he quickly jumps in, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb before resting his hand on my cheek. "You're the furthest thing from that, Amber. And my pile of snowflakes proves that."
I can't help but smile thinking back to that moment in the kitchen.
His eyes drift to my mouth before meeting mine again. "It's okay to feel relief that he won't be here. It's okay to be thankful even. You've shouldered the brunt of his abuse for far too long. And you did that for her. To shield her from that side of him. You're entitled to feel a bit of happiness at being free of him. Because it's not your fault he's not here, it's his."
I lean my face against his hand, letting him support me. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and revel in the warm, caring tone of his voice. A voice that doesn't startle or frighten me.
"Tommy!" Mia shouts from the end of the hall, causing both of our eyes to jump to her. She steps into the living room now, the phone still to her ear.
The phone's still to her ear.
My body freezes back up as I look at the clock. It's nearly nine o'clock and Mia just made it clear that it's not just me and her here right now.
"Are you bringing Stella with you to my party?"
He sits up a bit straighter now, still holding his arm around my stoic figure. My eyes are still glued to the phone in her hand as if staring at it will make it disappear.
"No. I'm sorry. I think there will be too many people here for her. She gets pretty scared in big crowds," Tommy speaks beside me but it sounds like he's a mile away. All of my focus lies on that damn phone.
"Aw man. Okay."
My breaths have become shallow when I feel his hand on my back. I try to pull my eyes back to the tranquil blues beside me but her innocent voice holds my attention.
"He can't bring her," she says into the phone.
"Oh," she pauses. "Okay, Daddy...I love you too...Goodnight."
When she places the phone in my hand, that's when I realize I'm shaking.
"He didn't want to talk to me?" I ask her, pulling myself from a statuesque state.
"No," she shakes her head. "He said he needed to take care of some things."
I nod, wondering just how many things are about to be shattered in the place I used to call home. In the place that never actually felt like a home. I try my best to bring myself back to the actual home I am sitting in. To the man beside me, the very one trying his best to calm me without a word like he always does. But for some reason, all I can think about is the fact that he didn't want to talk to me. To call me out, to question why Tommy is here this late. You would think this would be a relief, that I don't have to listen to him degrade my decisions.
But if there's one thing I know about Vince Hill, it's that his silence is unpredictable, and far more dangerous than his bite.