The sun just started to peak through those lace curtains Suz had picked out a few months ago. Another day. Another dollar. The first rays of sunshine were not welcomed by me. It meant I had less than an hour left before I would have to be walking out our front door—if you call the only door in your apartment a front door. Honestly, I guess I could just call it a door and no one would risk any confusion over it.
Suz rolled over. I saw her large eyes open and close slowly like a butterfly’s wings just getting ready for their first flight of the day. She placed her hand on my chest and then she placed her lips on mine. I welcomed the morning breath because I knew it was a small price to pay for what was to come. I heard her breath in between her kisses that she covered my body with. I purred like a tiger—not a cat—a tiger.
Thirty minutes later we were in the shower cleaning up our morning mess.
Suz had made a couple bowls of oatmeal…We were trying to eat healthier. After seeing my disappointed face, she giggled and brought out a hidden plate of bacon.
“Nobody lives forever,” she winked. Nobody but Suz could say that and truly smile happily. That’s why I loved her. She could be offered the most beautiful thing, the best thing in the world, and then have it taken away, and while most people would be complaining about it being gone, Suz would be smiling because she got a little piece of something good. She always said she was selfish—and maybe she was—but she was anything but greedy.
“But you have to eat the oatmeal too.”
“That’s the deal.”
I ate my oatmeal in seconds and then chased it down with crispy, oily pieces of bacon. Why did dead pig taste so good?
How was work? Who cares. I learned a lot, did a lot, fixed a lot, broke a lot, and now I was home. Suz was still typing away when I opened the door. Like we did everyday, we met halfway in our living room/kitchen and kissed. I wrapped my arms around the small of her back and pressed her tightly towards me. It had been one of those days at work where I just needed to squeeze her, make sure she was real, smell her hair…
“What color of car do you remember seeing on your way home?” she asked. This was an inside joke for us. We both hated the idea of the generic “How was work?” question that every bored woman asked their overworked man who was the last person who wanted to talk about work. So instead, Suz, my little artist, she came up with strange questions around work. And you’d think the joke would stop there, but she really wanted answers.
“Blue with a yellow stripe. The driver looked Mexican. Well, I didn’t see the driver, but the Taco Bell dog was in the passenger seat so I just assumed…”
“Dammit Cal,” she laughed.
“How’s the book?”
“Finished! Now I have to talk to people and be nice and somehow trick them into holding my book in their hands for a few minutes.”
“That’s great, Babe.”
“We should celebrate.”
“Already on it.”
“Pizza on its way, movie picked out and ready to go, and no visitors for the rest of the evening?”
“You know it,” she smiled, “Pizza should be here in…”
“There it is.”
I opened the door, paid the delivery guy, and walked into the living room with our dinner. Suz was spread out on the couch with her dress laying a few feet away on the floor.
“You forgot my favorite part of the celebration. Everything happens naked.”
I smiled. I laid the pizza on the beat up coffee table we had dragged up here from down the street and pulled off my shirt.
“Babe. Babe. Babe?”
“You make me the happiest.”