We may have stayed there for five minutes, or maybe it was forever. But when we separated, I felt like something had changed. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. And I felt like I’d do anything, anything in the world, for her. It was overpowering, wonderful.
We slowly separated and started walking again, but at a pace which probably drove the New Yorkers around us insane. I had an arm around her waist, and I wasn’t letting go no matter what happened.
“I want to tell you about something,” I said, my voice low.
She just raised an eyebrow. I loved that her cheeks were still flushed.
“When I turned eighteen, my parents asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, and I told them I wanted to go skydiving. I think my mom had a small heart attack. But me and my dad went. We sat through the safety briefings and all that, and then we went up.”
“Skydiving? Jumping out of airplanes?” For a woman who had stalked mountain lions, her voice had a suspiciously fearful squeak to it when she mentioned skydiving. I made a note to take her up sometime. She’d love it.
I nodded. “Anyway… the first time… it’s hard to capture the feeling. There’s fear, when you’re looking out the door of the plane, and knowing it’s thousands of feet to the ground. And then, out the door, and the wind is buffeting you, and there’s this moment of incredible terror. Will the parachute open? Will you flap screaming to your death? Is this it? But then… everything went calm after a few seconds. The wind was intense. But there was this feeling of absolute freedom. No gravity… flying. Absolute exhilaration. I could see hundreds of miles of land below us, I could touch the sky. It was the most amazing moment of my life.”
“Did your parachute open?” She had a wry smile on her face when she asked the question.
I snickered. “It did. But the thing is… that feeling that I could touch the sky? That’s exactly how you make me feel.”
Her smile just grew, her white teeth gleaming, her eyes prominent and beautiful, and she said, “That’s the cheesiest thing I ever heard in my life.” Then she giggled and stopped and kissed me again. Which is exactly what I wanted at that moment.
Our lips parted, and I said, “Would you be upset if I said I want to skip the dinner and the concert and run off to the hotel with you right now?”
“No,” she said. “But we can’t do it. I don’t get to see my sisters enough as is.”
“And I can’t wait to meet them.”
“You don’t actually have to wait. We’re here.”
I looked up, and she was right. The sign for Mustang Sally’s was three doors down from where we stood.
“Well… I get a kiss first? To tide me over?”
She bit her lip, then smiled again, and we were kissing, and I was in free fall all over again.
Then, barely at the edge of consciousness, I heard the words, spoken in a clear, loud New York accent, “Isn’t that Crank’s sister-in-law?”
Next thing I knew, there were flashes, several of them, and I flinched. Both of us whipped our heads to my right, and there was a crowd of photographers, with cameras pointed at us. What the hell?
“Oh crap,” she said. “Come on, let’s get inside.” She actually gave the photographers a friendly smile, which is a lot more than I could do, because I wanted to punch one of them. The flash had thrown me off, making my heart race, as I instantly became aware of everything around me. Every bit of trash on the sidewalk that might hold a bomb, every coat that might have a gun hidden underneath. My breath sped up, and I said, “Let’s get inside now.”
I never let go of her hand as we pushed our way through the crowd to the front of door of the restaurant. A bouncer stood at the front door, which was pretty unusual for a restaurant. Carrie said something to him, I don’t know what, because my mind was still focused on the photographers, and he let us in.
“Jesus, what was that about?” I said.
She shrugged. “Part of the cost of having a celebrity in the family. You get used to it.”
You get used to it. I wanted Carrie, badly enough to get used to anything. But that would take some serious getting used to. I didn’t realize I was shaking until Carrie turned and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked, a look of concern on her face.
“Yeah,” I said, knowing I didn’t sound it. “The flash startled me.”
Understanding dawned on her face instantly. She wrapped her arm around mine and said, “Come on. Let’s get the introductions out of the way and relax for the night, okay?”
I nodded, and said, “Sorry. I’ll try not to be too much of a spaz.”
“Relax,” she said. “I get it. I really do, okay? It’s going to take some time before you’re … completely home. And that’s normal, and it’s okay, and I’m here with you. You hear me?”
Okay. I’m not a guy who breaks out in tears at the drop of a hat. I’m not terribly sentimental. Sad movies don’t evoke anything from me but an order for more popcorn. But I’ll admit that her bald, open declaration that she was with me through this? It brought an unfamiliar prickly feeling to my eyes, which were blurring.
“I love you, doctor babe,” I said.