My eyebrows pulled down in confusion. After everything I’d told her, I couldn’t see how I was blessed. She must have seen it on my face, because she said, “Your mom died, but your brother created for you a blessing. You get to visit her whenever you want.” Her eyes drifted to the statue and she sighed. Her face paled and pain shattered her pretty smile. “I wasn’t with my mom when she died. Nobody was.” On hearing these words, pain griped in my stomach.
Elsie’s finger pointed to the locket. “All I have left of my mom is this small picture, inside of my locket. There’s nothing else. No photo albums for me to remember her by,” she pointed at the sculpture of my mamma, “no sculpture for me to smile at every day. To hold her cheek and press my forehead to… to show her our ‘I love you’.” Her eyes met mine. “It’s a blessing, Levi. A true blessing to have this in your life.”
I would have argued that it was this sweet blonde who was the blessing. My blessing that was stitching together the hole in my heart, healing the hole that I’d carried at its center for too many years.
Elsie kept watching me, until I inched forward, taking her by surprise. Pushing a loose strand of hair back that had fallen over her eyes, I said, “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”
Elsie turned her face toward my hand that still remained on the side of her face. Her cheek nuzzled my palm, and she whispered, “I’d really like that too.”
I fought a smile. Before I allowed it to form, I pressed forward and took Elsie’s mouth with my own. This time there were no nerves. We’d smashed through those barriers tonight. She’d spoken. I’d shown her this place. She’d started to open up about her past. Our walls were coming down.
Elsie’s hands threaded through my hair, just as another crash of thunder sounded up above. It was quieter this time, the storm beginning to pass. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I pulled her on my lap, Elsie’s surprised cry separating our kiss.
Elsie’s gaze was locked on mine, and swore I heard her heart racing as fast as mine. Nothing was said. I couldn’t think. I needed to have her lips back on mine. I needed it so bad.
I smoothed my lips back over Elsie’s, a soft sigh sounding in her chest. Taking a chance, I tentatively pushed my tongue inside her mouth, Elsie’s shy tongue, sliding softly against mine. As every minute passed, I felt more and more at ease. And as every minute passed, I felt myself letting her in.
She was becoming my girl.
Elsie shifted, and our mouths broke apart. Elsie’s head fell against mine, as our breathing came hard.
“Elsie,” I whispered tightly.
Elsie’s eyes momentarily closed. When they opened, she pressed her fingertips over my lips, and confessed, “I really like your accent.” I stilled, surprised by her words and the feel of her fingers on my lips. She smiled. “I love the way you say my name. It’s probably the best thing I’ve heard since I could hear.”
I stared, dumbfounded, until my cheek twitched, and I laughed. She’d made me laugh.
I hadn’t laughed in years.
Elsie laughed too, her high-pitched tone sounding so cute to my ears. My laughing eventually stopped as I strived to hear more. Then Elsie forced herself to stop—rapidly.
It was instantaneous, like the flick of a switch. The freedom with which she laughed vanished and just as quickly morphed into fear. I could see it written on her face, the fear. No, the terror, so clear in her expression as I listened to her laugh freely.
Elsie’s head fell forward and she tried to shuffle off my lap. I tightened my arms around her back and kept her in place.
“Don’t,” she sniffed, her pretty voice broken into pieces.
“No,” I said. “I wasn’t judging you, Elsie. Hell,” I sighed in frustration, “I was adoring you. Your laugh. How you make me feel. I was thinking real clear about the fact you were my girl. Damn prideful thinking how you were my beautiful, silent pretty girl.”
Elsie’s breathing hitched. She then breathed in and out eight times until she raised her head—I counted. Tears were tracking down her face, but she ignored the dampness on her skin to question, “Your… g-girl?” she asked, a nervous stutter in her voice.
“Yeah,” I rasped, feeling a weight in my stomach at the horror that she might just say no.
“Your girl?” she repeated. I sighed.
“My girl.”
I loosened my hold on her back, assuming she was saying no, that she didn’t want me like that, when she pressed her hand over her heart and nodded her head.
My blood heated and rushed through me, knowing exactly what that gesture meant. She was in this too. She was saying ‘yes’, yes to being my girl.
I kissed her again, but as the rain pelted harder on the roof of the warehouse, I pulled back to suggest, “We’d better get home.”
Elsie nodded her head and rose from my lap. I jumped to my feet, and quickly covered the sculptures with their sheets. Taking Elsie’s hand, I led her to the door and we made our way home.
By the time we got back, the place was in darkness. The whole drive home I kept hold of Elsie’s hand. Even now, as I walked her to the kitchen door in the backyard, I didn’t want to let her go.