Firelight

    Carly’s shrill tone, accompanied by her sharp raps on the glass, broke my flow. “You can’t hide inside forever. Come on, Mary, it’s starting now!” 

I stretched my aching calves and slid open the patio door to the outdoor living room, surprised by the comfortably cooler temperature. The cloudy afternoon had transformed into a gorgeous early evening, a sunset tinged in violet. 

“Yes, dear, you need a break. Today’s a holiday, after all.” Predictably, my mother echoed my sister’s suggestion.

“I thought you couldn’t have fireworks with all the moisture in the air.” I settled into my spot across from where my mother and sister reclined on the loveseat, a breeze blowing right on cue, as I lifted the tumbler of mint ice tea.

“The rain ended hours ago, while you were holed up inside writing.” Carly pushed the bowl of popcorn towards me.

I nodded and raised my glass. “I ate lunch with y’all.” 

“So you say, though a few lettuce leaves and olives hardly make a meal. And, he spent so much time cooking for us, Mary.” My mother added some salt before she dug out a few kernels.

“The chicken was amazing, and so was the brisket, which he made especially for you.” Carly had a way of hitting me right where it hurts with truth I’d rather deny, namely regretting my choice to go vegan recently.

“You know I don’t eat meat anymore. And it was his day off.” I parked the shaker next to my glass and shook my head when Mom reached across the table.

“And yet, he was here.” Carly smiled and tossed a handful of pieces into her mouth.

“Why?” Matching smirks played across their lips.

Just then, the doorbell chimed. I circumvented the house to the front door. I hadn’t bothered with my appearance, throwing on an old yellow sundress and sandals.     

We interacted only briefly earlier, but I caught myself staring more than a few times while Miguel manned the grill and cleaned up. When our eyes met, I felt the tension in my neck ease a bit, and I longed to be anywhere else, alone with him. His hair seemed lighter, probably due to the intense sun, and he looked effortlessly handsome in his black polo and khaki shorts, not unlike his everyday look in his uniform. 

On the days I stopped to check on Mom, we spoke about schedules and appointments, but I learned more about my mother’s caregiver of nearly a year during our conversations. He was older than I guessed, only 6 years younger, and he had a son set to graduate from college next Spring, his only child with his wife who had passed away ten years earlier.

I thought about Miguel a lot, his kindness and genuine concern for my mother clear when I watched their interactions. I never installed the camera to watch them after Carly had arrived unexpectedly a few times and confirmed that everything was truly OK, that Miguel was someone we could trust. 

When he offered to make me dinner one night a few months ago, after a particularly difficult day, I ignored his offer with a question about one of my mother’s new medications. Right now, I’m only interested in finishing up my Summer classes and sending off the article I’m struggling to revise before next term, for a stress-free mini-vacation in early August. 

Of course, I was attracted to him, and maybe more, but we had finally found someone caring, trustworthy, and gentle whom Mom liked. I really didn’t need another headache if things soured between us, and I was left to find another caregiver.

I inhaled slowly, as I approached him. wearing a white button down and lightweight gray slacks, looking better than I’d ever seen him. Get a grip and breathe.

“Good evening, Miguel.” 

“Hello again, Mary.” He handed me a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Wow, these are lovely. Mom will love them, thanks so much.”

“They’re not for Dr. Grant, but I’m glad you like them, and you’re very welcome.”

 The stirring in my stomach restarted. I really needed to get over myself- I was nearly 50, not 15. 

I opened the door and avoided his eyes. “They’re out back, go on through and I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Sure, Mary.”

In the kitchen, I ran water and felt his stare, as he gripped the door handle. I pulled down a vase from the cabinet and arranged the bouquet, glancing out to where the trio sat, Miguel in a chair pulled beside mine. Carly poured him a glass of tea, and my mother beckoned for me to join them.

I carried my flowers, and Carly slid the door open. “Took you long enough. Here.” She placed the vase on the table and winked at me.

“They're lovely, Miguel. Don’t you think so, Mary?” The assortment was gorgeous, featuring my favorite shades of purple and blue, adorned with reds and yellows. I hadn’t received flowers since our father passed away more than twenty years ago.

“I agree. Thank you again, Miguel, the verbena are amazing.” I clasped my trembling hands together in my lap.

“Mom, aren’t you ready to turn in?” Carly stood beside her chair.

“I think I should get some rest, Carly.” They linked arms and walked toward the house.

“What about the fireworks?” 

“Good night!” they chorused and disappeared into the kitchen.

I shook my head. Such schemers, my mother and my sister. “I’m so sorry about that, Miguel.”

His smile left me breathless. “It’s fine, Mary. I think they wanted to give us a few minutes to talk.”

“Oh.” I sipped from my glass to avoid his gaze again.

Thankfully, bright lights signaled the beginning of the fireworks, and I sank into my chair.

“Do you always watch the sky with your eyes closed, Mary?” 

My heart raced, and I opened my eyes. “No, I don’t.”

Miguel sighed and lowered his voice. “Mary?”

“Yes?”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“If I said you make me feel the same, would that matter to you?”  The hairs on my arm rose above the chill bumps on my arms. 

“Mary. I’ve thought about this, and I think you have, also.” Now, he was standing above me, his hands outstretched. I allowed him to lift, and I looked at my sandals.

He caressed my fingertips, and I remembered when he touched me for the first time, when he bandaged the scratch on my leg. We met that day, the beginning of it all, setting off a raging fire inside me I couldn’t put out, even if I wanted to do it.

“Look at me.” 

Above us, white and blue stars twinkled and blazed through the sky, which couldn’t compare to the rush of energy surging through me where our hands touched.

“You really need to relax, Mary.” 

“You make it really hard to do that, Miguel.”

He chuckled. “May I kiss you, Mary?”

I felt myself nod before his lips grazed mine, and the world went hazy, everything swirled around us, like the inside of a snow globe. My awareness narrowed down to the breeze cooling my cheeks, the searing feel of his body, the blood drumming in my ears, the spicy sweetness of his tongue as it brushed mine. That I longed to find a way to freeze time to exist only in this moment was an understatement.

After an hour, or more like a few minutes, Miguel kissed my forehead, his arms still wrapped around my waist. My heart had slowed a bit, and I felt all the tension in my body fall away, the sweetest release.

 Miguel whispered in my ear. "I wish we could stay here, like this, forever.”

“Me too.” 

  We didn’t, of course. But a year later, we stood a few yards away overlooking my mother’s garden, his arms wrapped around me, after we pledged ourselves to each other, for what we hoped was something just short of eternity. 

Not long after that Fourth of July, I made a promise to myself to lose myself in a moment each day. Whether that moment happened to be a solo early morning walk, a sniff of the roses in the garden he planted at our home, or a prayer of thanks for my beautiful, renovated life, I learned to truly let go, experiencing a serenity and peace, a gift greater than any other, for which I felt eternally grateful.