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53
Kris
Tink gave me the manuscript and walked out of the room. Seems she can’t watch me read it, and by the second chapter, I understand why. It’s a tell-all memoir of sorts, and it includes some very personal bits. During our first lunch, she told me that she wrote letters that were never sent. Letters to me, even though she did not know who I was or where her heart came from.
The first letter was written while she was still in the hospital after the transplant. At just ten years old, she understood that another little girl had to pass away for her to live. Here she was recovering, and she was worried about the family that lost their child, or in my case, baby sister. She had no idea who I was and wanted to. Bobby never told her, though considering the man I was until the day I met her… I suppose I understand, but I could have been a part of her world before now. Could have protected her from the hell she’s gone through. Bullies, so many bullies. From peers to Starling. Of course, there was her father, thinking he knew best, and even Cliff, who agreed to the shitstorm.
I get to this one letter in the manuscript, and she goes on about Starling taking her on and how she wanted to dedicate her first album to the girl that made it possible but was frustrated in not knowing her name. I can’t help myself, and I go into the back room where my CDs are and find her first album, Juci. Opening the interior case, I see there is indeed a dedication, and it reads exactly how she ends every letter.
Thank you again for the gift of life,
Nik
I have cried more times than I can count. It’s raw, honest, and for those that hurt her, completely damning.
Finishing it, I go to find the table set for our supper. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed since I started. It is nearly eight-thirty!
Spicy sriracha assaults my senses as I come into the kitchen to watch her pulling a tray from the little oven. All this woman has on is a pair of white booty shorts with pink lace and flowers. The top, as she turns toward me, is a matched fitted bralette. Christ, she looks damn cute.
“Hey, dinner is about ready. What do you want to drink?”
“Honestly? An ice cold beer, but barring that, I’ll have whatever you are. I’m a simple man-”
She puts up her finger with a little smile before turning on her heel and heading for the mini-fridge we use for overflow. Watching her squat, I groan internally at the backward flash of camel toe. She pops up with a bottle of Coors Edge. I look at her, confused. I’ve never heard of the variety. “It’s non-alcoholic. I got a twelve-bottle sample plus a few spirits that I thought we could try together?”She bites that adorable lip.
“Tink.” I’m touched, and I hope that it shows in my voice as I nod. “That sounds like some fun I can get behind. I’ll grab a couple glasses, you will split that with me, right?”
“I don’t see why not. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”
Grabbing the glasses, I set them and the manuscript on the table. Noting that she’s making a point of not looking at it. As she turns to grab the rest of the food, I slide it down beside me. She’s not ready, and I won’t push it. Dinner is broccoli and cheese stuffed chicken breast with siracha cauliflower, roasted summer squash, and a nice cooling cucumber sesame salad. Strangely, the beer hits the spot perfectly.
“Is it good?” She asks, and I know she means the food and certainly not the manuscript. “I have a peach cream pie for later.”
Licking my lips, I wash down my mouthful before I answer. “It is excellent,” placing the manuscript between us makes her fidget. “As is this.”
“It’s a lot for you to digest, I’m sure. Michelle said it was honest and that she’s sure I’m going to be labeled a whistleblower.”
“Probably, but also, brilliant, clever, heartbreaking, and incredibly brave. Tink, I know that it took so much to be that honest, and I can only hope that my contributions will do this justice. I don’t want to cheapen it with my lousy attributions.” I lower my eyes. She soared through the pain, and all I did was drown in mine.
“Everything you add can only make our story better. It’s not just my story, Pan. We’ve been connected since this heart went into my chest. We just didn’t know that until now.”
“What do you think you’ll call it?” I ask thoughtfully, leaning across the table to kiss her softly.
“I don’t know yet. Once it’s finished, I think it will just come to me like the music.”
“Hmm, what do you say I dock us, and we go for a little walk? I’m feeling like we should get amorous amongst the flowers.”
She looks down at herself and back at me. “I need a dress. I can’t go for a walk like this.”
Sitting back, I chuckle. “I tell ya what. Lose the shorts, put on a sundress, and I’ll carry you and our fluffy blanket until we hit the field. Then I’m going to strip you down and cover you in coconut oil before pulling you on top of me so I can watch you fall apart in the sunset. But we need to move fast.” I stand, putting out my hand for her to take. “Fly with me, Tink?”
“Only if we’re going to Neverland, Pan.”
“Straight on till morning.”
