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“Mom,” Alex asks. “Can I go get the supplies myself?”
“I’m on the way!” Bess says. “I got it!” She walks quickly toward the house. I watch her as she walks away, and I follow her silently. Jake makes a sound like someone is cracking a whip behind me, so I shoot him the bird behind my back. He chuckles and I ignore him entirely.
I follow Bess into the kitchen, and find her bent over, looking inside the cabinets. “What exactly is in a dough doggie?” she asks from over her shoulder.
“Biscuit dough,” I say, and I go to the fridge and take out a couple of cans of dough. I look for jelly, butter, and chocolate sauce, all of which I find in the door of the fridge. “And this stuff,” I say as I carry it over to her.
“Anything else?” she asks. She loads a basket with some items, and then adds the ingredients for s’mores, which she finds in the cabinet.
“Just this,” I say, and I capture her face in my hands and stare into her eyes. “Unless you’re opposed to it, I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.”
I wait a beat, and she says nothing, until finally she very quietly whispers, “I’m not opposed.”
I brush her hair back from her temples. “It’s been a long time,” I remind her.
She laughs. “Are you afraid you forgot how?”
“A little.”
She steps up onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. She kisses me. Her lips are soft and silky, and she parts her lips immediately, her tongue reaching out to touch mine, the way that people who have kissed one another for a lifetime do, like they know exactly how to do it. Her tongue is nothing more than a raspy slide against mine, and then it’s gone. She pulls back and buries her face in my shirt with a groan. When she finally lifts her head, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are shiny.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She sniffles. “Better than okay.” She kisses the side of my chin. “I’ve missed you and I didn’t even realize it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if I lost this today, I would miss it.” She shrugs. “That’s all.”
“Lost what?” I whisper.
“You. Us. This. If it were gone, I’d be really sad.” Her voice is not much more than a whisper, but it sounds like bells going off in my head.
“You really don’t hate me anymore?” I ask, needing reassurance. I don’t know why.
“Not even close,” she says. She kisses my chin again, lingering there for just a second. “And you taste like beer,” she adds. She laughs lightly and turns to carry the basket out the door.
“Is that bad?” I ask her retreating back, but I’m laughing as I follow her out the door.
“Not at all. You should totally do that more often,” she says. Her eyes meet mine and they don’t look away. Then she breaks contact and walks to the fire, where she puts the basket down on a little makeshift table. “Somebody needs to remind me how to make a dough doggie because I have forgotten,” she says to everyone and no one.
“Give me a stick,” Mr. Jacobson snaps. “I’ll show you how it’
s done.”
Bess takes pictures of all the kids making dough doggies, and Aaron takes Miles from Gabby to hold as he sits next to the fire.
“Are you tired?” I hear Bess ask him.
He nuzzles the side of his face against the top of Miles’s downy-soft head. “Not a bit,” he says.
“Well, if you change your mind, I could be persuaded to hold that baby.”
Aaron grins at her. “I appreciate your willingness to take one for the team. I will take your offer under advisement.”
“You want a dough doggie?” Bess asks him.
“Nuh-uh. If you make it, you’ll put a booger in it or something,” he teases. I laugh out loud. “Dude, don’t laugh,” he says to me. “You know it’s true.”
