Chapter 43

forty-three

Lily

Last Sunday in April | Day of Stef's Shower

We arrive for the final shower prep and I'm so glad the weather held overnight. The tarps are still perfectly in place, and the bags with items to put out are under their respective tables in the bins as we left them. Everything looks good to go for the catering and bartending teams to set up their portions. River's expanded team for events are here hauling dishwasher racks of glassware from the building.

Susan hired The Featherweight and a place called Manila Cuisine from Bergen County to work together. Over in one corner, Carmine is chatting with the other team's head chef as he prepares the whole pig roast. I see him animatedly discussing the set up of the cooking process, as well as them comparing notes on chef's blades. From afar, this looks like a tiny, balding man, with a beer belly covered in a stained apron animatedly holding a cleaver near an elderly Filipino grandpa's face. Carmine is the ultimate source of his own mafia rumors.

In another corner, I see Miss Nicole with a slew of tiny ballerinas in white leotards and sparkly tutus practicing their performance for later. Exactly as expected, a little girl who is doing the shifting from foot to foot peepee dance during her explanation is off like a bat out of hell towards the first store she can reach. Unfortunately, when she returns her white leotard is replaced with a black one, and there are no tights on, and her babysitter is carrying a large plastic bag behind them.

"Going to run these to wash now, Miss Nicole! Let her keep practicing. No more juice boxes, kid! Hear me?"

Giggling to myself, this is exactly what I would have said if I was the sitter in charge too. Some things never change, the realization that I like this familiarity warms me. Looking around the square I am impressed by how little has changed since yesterday, but how much brighter it all looks and feels.

‘Helps when you aren't lost in your own head, huh Lil?' I hear Dorothea's wisdom in my head.

I smile as I gaze towards The Featherweight, thinking about River and the few short weeks that feel like a lifetime of waking up together in the rose room. The violet media room antics. My gorgeous, thriving living wall he gifted me. River thinks I didn't notice, but I saw him working with Rosie from La Vie en Rose flower shop to fill the boxes outside our cottage.

Every time I see those buds taking shape my heart skips a beat just a little more. This is Taylor Swift-Cottagecore-Instagram worthy stuff like he knows half of my livelihood depends on. A line of work that, if I'm being honest, has lost its shine. I find myself staring wistfully at Miss Nicole's and the tiny dancers for a moment.

Looking at the square decorated for Stef's shower I wonder, would I have this sort of event ever again? Could I?

Trying to visualize an alternate reality as I walk around checking that everything in my section is just so, I feel like the girl who lives in delusion.

Lingering walks along the banks with Pete while holding hands with River. Family picnics with Stef and Lee. Then, when they have kids, a large blanket spread on the lawn and those tiny little snack cups kids hold. Seth is grumbling and reading, but it's a kids book for that little niece or nephew they give us all. Nessa is jotting things in a notebook while Delia perfectly reapplies her lipstick. I try to take it further into the future, could I sit there with grade school kids belonging to my people, wearing rings that River gave me ?

Could one of those small humans be mine? Would I mess them up and repeat Belinda's mistakes?

It only took one small negative to feel the slide from "manifesting a different future" to an anxiety spiral.

Thankfully, I feel two strong arms wrap around me from behind. The sensation starts to ground me, and I look for something to focus on, I see the paint chipped gazebo. I try to focus on a smell, there's the smoke in the air from the pig roast. I listen for something I can hear, it's River.

"Darling," he whispers before slowly turning me to face him. Planting a soft kiss on my mouth, he gives me the last of the five senses for grounding. I can taste the cinnamon and whiskey of the craft cocktail he was mixing batches of. River has left overseeing the team setup just long enough to snap me out of my potential spiral. I'm not even sure if he knew what he just helped to do, but I'm breathing in him for reassurance anyway.

I lean back enough to look up into those pine and sky eyes that have made my weeks here begin to feel less like being lost in the woods and more like Christmas morning, awestruck once again by our ease together. He drops something in my hand, and peering down, it's my pill bottle from the counter.

"Good thing my sundress has pockets," I say before pushing the orange container in one and my fist into the other. The delicate floral T-shirt dress with a swinging skirt flows with me as I move side to side.

With a gentle forehead kiss he says, "I didn't know if you'd get too busy to pop home, and I know that something like this" he gently gestures around us before putting his hands back on my upper arms with soft but firm touches, "with Susan, the possibility of Belinda, so much socializing, can make it harder for you. I didn't want you to skip the optional afternoon dose if you didn't want to. I can put it away too, I just saw it was on the counter. It's your call."

For a moment I want to balk at this kind gesture, but then my brain catches up with my ears and realizes he said one important and empowering word. If.

He didn't tell me I must, or tell me that I was forgetful, should have ‘just' set a timer, or would be wrong to not want to take optional medicines. It was simple: if this would help me, he didn't want access to it to be an obstacle. I jump, my own arms squishing around his back, feet kicking into the air forcing him to lift me slightly.

"Thank you," I whisper while kissing his jaw lightly. I am in love with him I realize, and the thought has my already frazzled nerves working overtime. This man has the ability to make me believe in being someone's chosen person. That he wouldn't leave no matter what and I cannot help but soak him in.

I'm so lost in my own thoughts that it feels sudden when Mateo Santos-Manolo interrupts.

"What's up, girl?" Mateo shouts across the lawn towards me with a nod in his perfect impression of Jason from The Good Place .

I quip back, "Not a girl," before we both break into giant smiles.

This silly greeting between Jason Mendoza and The Good Janet became our go-to when we wound up at the same Halloween party a bunch of years ago.

I was one of a slew of cocktail waitresses at this resort dressed as Janet for the night when he arrived. Wrapped up poorly in bed sheets, the costume was intended to be Jason's red and gold Buddhist monk robes.

Mateo kept his team on their best behavior and then doubled the bill for tip. Whatever he has been doing in real estate is clearly going well for him, yet his eyes betray him. He's bored and confused. He seems like a lost puppy, he's searching for someone and something familiar.

"Hey there co-best man," River breaks away to greet Mateo. Clearly, everyone really brought out the big guns for today, based on the outfit Mateo's pulled together.

Mateo swaggering over—there's no other way to describe it— feels like a movie scene, a slow motion saunter paired with head nods, sunglasses removal, and possibly Delia closing Nessa's jaw. I'll need to poke her on that later. We see him fully now in a slim fit maroon suit. As Mateo makes the rounds—handing out large greetings via jokes, high fives, and hugs to every business owner from the town—you would think he's Mister Peacock Springs.

River drops me a quick kiss and a goodbye, then doubles back for a few more. He pecks at my cheeks, forehead, and nose rapidly with adorable succession.

His playfulness is warming me as much, no more than, as the spring sunshine. Watching him retreat, the tight fit of his charcoal gray suit pants over his behind and the black button down neatly fitted to his broad shoulders, I'm taken by how blissful I can feel while standing on these grounds. I understand the appeal of being here.

I might even be able to do it for real this time. Even with yesterday's nonsense; leave it to Jim, Nicole, and Pru to stage an ambush at the town meeting. The only thing that can keep me from making this my home again is me. Not Grant's behavior and rude comments about the state of my life, not Landan's ongoing unapologetic stance, or Belinda's disapproval of me. None of that is important.

Right here; the work we've completed around the square matters. Nessa is primping floral centerpieces and obsessively tucking ribbons and adjusting things before setting up sternos for the buffet. Delia is sitting with the sunlight streaming across Stef's blushing tan features, her deep set warm brown hooded eyes closed for Delia to do a touch up on the makeup she set for her earlier.

"Oh my god, Nessa! Stop, just move the jars. I do not need you having a panic attack today," Stef shouts.

Despite her closed eyes, she's clearly been in education for too long if she can see without looking at this one.

"How did you…" Nessa trails off mid question.

"Girl, I've known you since we were three. I just knew. Move the damn flowers, I don't care what Susan says when she gets here."

With a deep throat clear, we hear a posh voice correct, "I believe that is Nanay or Mother to you, Stefanie. Correct? Delia, stop fussing, she looks beautiful. We do not want her overdone."

Stepping away, Delia backs up and Susan begins her usual inspection of Stef from the head to toe. She fixes invisible issues with her hair, her dress placement, and then looks at her from bottom to top once more.

"You'll be wearing a proper heel when we are ready for guests, correct?" Swallowing any irritation that may be there, she simply nods in agreement and moves on .

"Nessa," Susan snaps, "I agree with Stef, do not stress those centerpieces. Move the extras over to the gift table. That way if people are cheap, we can hide it with ample florals." She then turns on her heel and walks across to Coffee Crumbs where she meets the other ladies from her church for coffees and gossip until the party is set to begin.

Every important family in Peacock Springs is out in full force when the party begins. The bars are tended by The Featherweights staff, food from a variety of places including the suckling pig. Prudence is running a DJ booth, full of girl power pop music that has our group enjoying ourselves thoroughly between snacks and games. It's almost time for presents when it dawns on me, this is a very formal event. Pulling Nessa aside I whisper my anxiety about my gift.

"Ness, did you watch How I Met Your Mother ?"

"Do you mean How I Met Your Father with Hillary Duff? Because Oh my god, I love her. I think I sort of look like her, right? If I cut my hair, but I'd never…"

I have to cut this off. "No, Ness, Mother. With the dad from Full House narrating even though he's played by someone else. The one that would never ever get made now because like every sentence out of Neil Patrick Harris's mouth would get the show canceled. Shit. Nevermind."

I run over to Delia and start the conversation over again, this time getting cut off by her saying, "I love when you have these random thoughts mid-events but today I have to focus on keeping things running because River trusted me with the staff so he can hide out with Mateo doing whatever the guys are all doing."

"I think it's batting cages, but Mateo was in a suit so maybe not," I jump in.

Delia laughs, "Of course he is. Either way, we have to set up the gifts to be opened and I need a hand. Can you get the iPad from Kirk behind the bar so I can keep the list of gifts for Stef to write her thank you notes? Also grab me two trash bags, and ooh! You're creative, can you make her a paper plate hat with the wrappers and ribbons? I wanted to do a bouquet, but Susan insisted it must be a hat. I'm sorry, I just want to get everyone home on time because it's a Sunday."

Why can't I spit out what I need to say? Does nobody catch my reference? Sometimes, it can be that my brain explains things perfectly. But only to me. Everyone else is staring like I have snakes for hair.

Since I can't get my words out, I'm off to Kirk and rounding up the requested supplies. I also snag myself a pair of scissors and a roll of scotch tape. I know I was trying to get the girls' attention for something important, but now that I'm focused on this task, I can't remember exactly what it was. Whatever, I'll figure it out later . These new tasks have absorbed my limited remaining focus. Take the pills that River brought you, holding them isn't the same as taking them, Lily.

We are about done with presents when I shout in a panic "Wait! Stef, don't open this one!"

That was the issue, I thought this was more of a gag gift situation than the whole town. She's about to unwrap herself a sex toy, and I really do not need to go from being a fire starter to a sexual deviant in one fell swoop. Of course this is happening just as I decided it would be worth sticking around here.

She holds the gift up by the tiny bit of paper that had already ripped, "This one?" Stef asks while I watch in slow-motion, horrified as the paper unravels and reveals the box. The white package with bright silver letters, the extremely phallic hot pink image clearly in view announcing that it's a vibrator. I'm dying, and the last thing I need is another town wide scandal.

Bless her, seriously, she can have anything she needs or wants because saving my ass before I can fully panic, Nessa shouts, "That's from me! You know, sex therapist… marital pleasure, blah blah… you can put me on your longest," she winks ridiculously at the word longest, "thank you list. Anyone else in the crowd who needs to get in better touch with themselves or their partner's desires can always submit their questions to Flicking the Bean with Rabin, completely anonymously. I see you looking, Mrs. Bell."

She gives a tip of an invisible cap and then scoops the gift into the pile we're creating of open items, and elbows me.

"Ouch!" I complain .

She whispers through gritted teeth, "Keep. Your. Shit. Together. Long. Or you will give yourself away."

The final few presents go by without fanfare, a set of dishes here, a set of towels there. There is everything one will need to start themselves off as a successful adult with a nice home.

Suddenly, a loud bird-born scream, sort of akin to the meow of an angry cat, cuts through the square and everyone freezes. It's Daisy, one of the two peacocks angrily mewing. Amongst the crowd, the grandmothers of the town, including Ava Maria and Miss Nicole, are cackling like witches. Susan, Anna Lucia, Janet, and the late-middle-aged mom squad look furious with us, and suddenly it's clear why. It seems Miss Nicole and Prudence fully opened the box from my gift and left it on a table. This caused the bird to think he scored a snack, and he suddenly grabs the vibrator with his beak and runs off.

Daisy approaches noisily, and as the blue, green, and gold whizzes by, I realize that he's nabbed the rabbit ears of the dual-stimulation toy. I can't even figure out how, but the toy was activated in the commotion, and it's wiggling to and fro like any standard insect. Except, instead there is a giant cock waving around below the bird's neck. On a burst of laughter, Nessa looks at me and I am stunned by the outburst that my filter is just decimated.

"Peacock with an extra cock on the loose! Watch yourselves, ladies," I say with more earnestness than deserved.

Nessa is in such hysterics that she's almost fallen off her chair, Delia having caught her by the arm. Stef has her face in her hands. I presume she's plotting my slow demise.

From across the square we see Seth, Lee, Mateo, and River returning to help load gifts into the cars. Their single lined entrance looks like the start of a music video.

Despite flying less than 2 percent of the time, Daisy uses that moment to take off towards the sky and promptly drops the vibrator directly overhead of the men. We watch as the head of the silicone phallis proceeds to smack Seth directly in the face. Hard. Leaving behind a red mark that may bruise. The guys, as expected, double over in laughter, putting Nessa's giggle fit to shame.

The sound of River's laughter is like honey to my ears. It reminds me of Denver, of childhood, and playing pretend in the woods. Joy radiates. He is still someone young and unburdened underneath his bearded face and muscular exterior. River's hands are on his knees as his laughter increases and he's fanning himself with his shirt to cool himself down.

We're all gasping for air, but the more the laughter builds the more frustrated Seth seems to become. The more frustrated Seth looks, the heavier the group laughs. Finally, he picks up the vibrator shutting it off before pocketing it and flipping off the group of men. He gruffly stomps to the gift table where he haphazardly grabs a large armload and heads to the car.

The air becomes intoxicating, adrenaline courses through my veins and there's no containing the exhilaration. My feet move of their own accord. I'm running towards River before jumping into his arms. Holding on tight, hugging him like a koala to a tree, there's only our friends right here, right now.

I'm finally able to exist in the moment without the burdens of the past. No concern about how I'm perceived. I'm left with the kind of weightlessness I searched high and low for, and while traveling almost provided it, it was never there. It was always here.

Once we've loaded the car and packed up as much as we can, there are warm goodbyes before we head home.

"These damn peacocks are never anything but trouble." River shakes his head as he interlaces our fingers and pulls me closer for a kiss.

I giggle. "Well, the Kelly family would sooner have someone be hit with a silicone dick annually before they adjust tradition."

With a head shake that draws my focus to his hair flopping across his brow, he chokes out, "Don't let them hear that, or it will get added to future years."

My earlier hopeful heart explodes from the euphoric rush. Realization crashes like waves over me. I belong here . The best parts of small town life are why we put up with the challenges. It's immediate, possibly impulsively spoken, but not impulsively decided: I need to be here .

Squeezing his hand harder, I pull us to a stop. We're standing just before the entry to The Featherweight, under the gates with rose vines. The same exact spot we stood together in the dark in September.

I turn him to face me, and with a big nod, say, "I'm going to do it."

I assume he can follow and he nods back so I'm hopeful he's with me, but he asks, "Great, what exactly are you doing?"

"I'm going to just suck it up and serve my stupid time in the stocks. They only use those ankle things, right? The sports teams used to sit for different festivals to entertain tourists. You've done it before. It's not so bad, right? I can just bring a book. Maybe I can convince them to make it shorter. Add bathroom and meal breaks." My speech is paced a million miles per minute, my face hurts from smiling, but I feel confident in this.

"I'll suck it up. Then stay. I want all of the peacock silliness. I want to get to see and hear you laugh like you just did. I'd be a fool to miss out, River. I've missed too much as it is. I love that sound." I jump excitedly forward and miss full-on kissing him, landing at the corner of his mouth, "I love you. I think I've said it, but I can't remember and I will say it as many times as you want to hear."

Before another word can be said, he starts to pull us forward. We're running towards the cottage, past the new boxes of vegetable gardens, herbs, and blooming florals. Across the paver stone walkways that now dissect the grass into additional regions, and up to our front door. Ours. River worked to make this feel truly mine over the last few weeks.

I have never felt like a place was truly my own, not even my childhood bedroom. Hard as I tried, I couldn't find myself feeling rooted anywhere.

When I'm with River, I am home. That future I tried to picture earlier is becoming clearer now. I know if I let this go it would be the biggest regret of my life.

We've made our way through the front door and Pete barks from his crate in the living room.

"Not now, dude," River tells him.

I am excited for everything life together with him will give me. Will give us. I need him to feel my love, to feel that all of this change happened because of him.

Leading him into the purple room, I turn and find the buttons of his fitted black shirt are mostly undone, leaving his broad chest and scattered brown hairs showing.

I nudge him backwards and he lands in a huff on the pile of clothes I had left on the couch while getting ready this morning. Shoving them towards the desk while pulling the zipper of his pants lower with my other hand. I rush like we're going to be caught.

Maybe I am a little afraid of that, being caught by life. Broken apart and snapped back to the reality where people cannot be together forever, and there's no time but this moment for me. I open the button at the top of the fly and he raises his hips to help me remove his pants. His dark blue boxer briefs are stretched tight around his growing cock and becoming more constrictive looking, so I cautiously bring my fingers to the waistband in an effort to free him. Softly dipping my hand into the elastic and grazing along his ass as I work the fabric caging him in lower.

As his erection springs free, the head pops up towards his stomach and flies forward. Tall and proud. His breath hitches as he waits to see what my next move will be, and for a moment I'm scared I went too far too fast despite how many times we've done this all.

"This is still okay, right?" I tepidly run my hands up his strong thighs.

He grits out, "I need you to touch me, or I will take over and show you what this torture is like."

Leaning into the mischievousness, I linger, run my hands up and down his legs, moving closer and closer to his quivering member.

Using one hand, I fist the base of his cock before taking a tiny soft taste with my tongue on the head. He's already dripping precum and I'm encouraged by the salty taste. Placing soft kisses and light licks over him, I watch his patience thinning.

"Lily," he groans, and I begin to work his length with my fist while keeping my mouth motions soft. Until I'm back at the tip, cheeks hollow and mouth agape, taking him as far towards my throat as I can before questioning, "Hmm?" The vibrations off of my tongue massage his head .

"Fuck," he goans out with a long breath, providing me the encouragement I need to keep going. I move him in and out of my mouth a few times, before I swirl my tongue around the top of his head. I lick gingerly. His hands gently sift through my loose curls, as strands are gathered into a faux ponytail gently. His kindness shines through, even when I'm torturing him.

I can see in his face the restraint, and push him a bit further, "Darling, please, relax. Let go. This is a moment for you. Be a good boy and give me everything you have."

That is all it takes, and I can feel him tensing, moving close towards the finish line. River's legs are tight, and when I slide my hand from his base to his balls, he comes undone and pulls himself back mid-orgasm, painting his stomach with sticky release. I grab his boxers off the floor and kiss my way up his lower stomach, and begin to slowly wipe him clean as he goes to yank me up towards him for a deep kiss.

There's tongue, gentle hair pulling, and so much passionate energy from him reverberating off every cell in his body.

"Lily, I swear to God, I didn't think I could love you more than I do, but then you go and…" I hug him close and instruct him to stop, and when he tries to push forward I palm his chest firmly.

"I'm not a period sex person. Stop. I wanted to show you how I feel about you, I wanted you to have this moment to feel everything because I know what telling you I want to stay meant to you. Girls make grand gestures too, you know."

We lay there, holding one another. After a few minutes as his breathing gets heavier, signaling he's falling asleep, and I rouse him enough to tuck us into bed. This is exactly the sort of home I've always wanted.

Once he's fully out, I whisper to a sleeping River, "I promise to choose to love you every day. I promise to love you more and more over time."

With a hint of a smile, he pulls me close and we drift off together.