Cross My Heart
by Ryan P. Kinney
He awoke that morning feeling more alive than he had in years.
The usual good morning kiss with his wife turned into more.
She could see that old youthful magic in his eyes,
The kind that had outlasted his wrinkled, scarred face.
They made love like nothing had ever mattered.
He would be late to work this morning.
It was worth it.
As she made breakfast,
Humming that song he had not heard since their wedding
He caught sight of her curves,
Slyly slipping in and out of the folds of her robe
He remembered how much he loved that woman in his kitchen
And briefly considered an encore performance
He heard a door swing open
Creaking sharply under years of abuse
Tiny feet came thundering down the stairs
“How does such a little person step so loudly?”
“Dad!”
He turned,
Just in time to duck a Nerf dart sailing past his cheek
His son gave him a mischievous grin
And his wife rolled her eyes
As he reached under the table and pulled out his blaster
Launching three darts into his son’s forehead before he could raise his
His son flopped to the floor
“You got me. I’m dead.”
The cat walked over and licked his forehead
“Alright, I guess I’m alive,”
“The kitty gave me one of his lives.”
His son laughed and bounded into his seat, just as his wife handed him his coffee.
His first sip was like no other before.
If morning *** could be coffee,
That would be what he just stuck in his mouth.
She handed him a plate of eggs and potatoes
And a bowl of cereal to their son,
Kissing him on the forehead as she did
“Ewww, Mom!”
He had long since taught her the virtues of a good breakfast
Though she only ever ate a bagel
She was always happy to send him off to work with a full belly
Even more happy to send him off with more today
Even the eggs and potatoes tasted special
Like a little extra love had gone into them
“Love tastes like eggs and potatoes…”
He trailed off, biting into an empty fork.
His plate was empty.
He had devoured the entire meal while musing over silly thoughts.
His wife shot him a “job well done” grin
Then leaned in to kiss him
“You guys are weird,” their son said,
As he pulled out his chair,
Placed his bowl in the sink,
And went skipping upstairs
“He actually remembered to put his dishes in the sink,” said his wife.
He got up, and threw his arms around his wife,
Kissing the back of her neck
As he reached into her robe
She giggled, and handed him his lunch.
“Go to work,” she said.
He grabbed his lunch,
Yelled up the stairs,
And walked out the door
The car started on the first turn this morning.
He eased it into gear
And it glided gently out of the driveway.
“That’s much better.”
He couldn’t get the grin off his face as he drove
The sun had risen to greet him in a kaleidoscope of hues
He began picking out shapes in the color kissed clouds
There was a light breeze in the air
A calm comfortable spirit blew around him
With just a hint of the flavor of the impending autumn
Yet still not betraying the richness of summer
His eyes snapped out of the daydream
“Today is way too good to be wasted at work.”
He pulled out his phone and dialed the number he no longer had to look at the keypad for.
“Hello,” his wife answered”
“Honey, call our son into school. We’re doing something today.”
She paused for a minute and he expected a recrimination.
Instead, she just replied, “Something? Like what?”
“How about the beach?”
“We’ve lived two miles from the lake for years and have only gone twice”
“It’s time we stopped wasting what’s been given to us”
She paused again, then, “Ok.”
“Oh, and wear the bikini.”
She sighed, “That was not meant for outside the bedroom.”
“It’s Monday. Everyone else foolish enough to not call off are at work.”
“No one will see, except us.”
“Meet me there.”
He hung up before she has a chance to object.
An hour later, he was there.
He slammed the car door with a reassuring thud
Her car was here, but empty.
“They must already be in the sand.”
He took to the concrete path.
As he walked, toads hopped out of his way
Butterflies danced to a tune none, but they could hear around his head.
His every step sent a cascade of grasshoppers in every direction.
He finally reached the sand and kicked off his work boots into the weeds.
He scanned down the beach and picked out the outline of two people,
His wife and son.
As he thought, no one else was here.
His wife had already removed the tank top and shorts she’d normally hide behind.
She was wearing the red bikini he had gotten her for their last anniversary
Her body showed all the marks and scars of age, wisdom, and childbirth.
He couldn’t have loved any of those marks any more.
She had earned each one.
She caught sight of him and smiled that beautiful smile,
Then tapped their son on his shoulder,
Already engrossed in a sand castle
He looked up and took off running,
Barreling into his father.
The rest of the day whisked away in the blur of one who forgets that time is a measure for events we have to think about.
He and his wife worked muscles long past functioning properly.
He swam in his work uniform and when it became too heavy,
He cast it onto the beach and swam in his underwear.
While his wife prepared lunch,
His son and he built a sand castle taller than either of them
It was more like a mound than any recognizable structure,
But it was magnificent.
When the next wave came in and took half of the empire with it
They just laughed
And jumped in to finish the job
Lunch was PBnJ, a necessity for any day spent playing hooky.
They tasted of forgotten memories and a sun-warmed nostalgia,
That up until now had only left a bitter taste in his mouth
Lunch was quick,
As both boys hurried back to the water
Making sure to share plenty with Mom.
After a few hours, the sun began to sag
And their son began to droop on this father’s shoulder
He carried him back to the concrete path,
All three with irreplaceable smiles on their faces
Their son was nearly asleep before they came across the first toad
This time they just sat and watched.
The grasshoppers remained still and not a butterfly stirred.
Everyone sat silent in their seats,
Transfixed by the building chorus of crickets,
The melody growing richer as the sun sank into dusk
By the time they reached the parking lot, the frogs had added their amorous harmony.
All of nature had serenaded their son to sleep as they strolled.
He placed him in his wife’s car gently.
He looked at her and pulled her close,
His hands groping under the bikini.
She pulled away.
“I’ll see you at home,” she said.
“I love you,” he paused, “…both,” looking at his son.
She got in the car, started, and drove out of the parking lot.
He stayed there, watching her taillights fade into a magenta-orange curtain trailing the horizon.
Just before she vanished from sight, he caught her eyes watching him in the rearview mirror.
He waved,
Casually,
Slowly,
Until she was gone.
He got back in his car and closed the door.
The reddening sun was half gone
A deep blue was inching in slowly, closing around the falling orb
Pink, blue, purple, green
Every color of life was lavishly splattered across the sky,
As if color and beauty were so cheap that it could spilled everywhere,
Without a care.
The sunset was the same it was 20 years ago.
The day he left his parents
As he was driving the last load to his first taste of adult freedom,
He had stopped at this park
To bid farewell to the boy who spent so much time here.
Here he was again
Back with a new boy to give to the park.
The sunset that sent him to become a man was back to greet him once again.
“Today was perfect,” he said, as he slipped on his jacket.
“But, it’s time I woke up.”
He pulled a revolver from the jacket’s pocket
“I kept my promise.”
He pressed the muzzle to his chest.
“Cross my heart.............”
