Fix Me

She reached her hand out. I happily took her hand in mine, I gave it a gentle squeeze. “I think a concert sounds like the perfect way to spend a morning.”

I walked her to an open area just on the outskirts of the crowd and spread out the blanket. We sat down, just like we did so many times before when we visited the beach. We listened to the music, commenting on how good they were before falling back into a very peaceful, easy quiet. It was moments like these that made me realize just how much I cared for her.

And I didn’t just care for her. I loved her. I wanted to spend all my time with her. I wanted to take care of her and hang out with her. I wanted to talk about a future together. I felt like we were in limbo. We couldn’t talk about our future because I had no fucking clue what that looked like.

When the music stopped, I knew it was time to go. The music had served as a nice distraction but we were alone together once again. While she seemed fine, I could feel her holding back just a little. I suspected it was because of my behavior yesterday. I had hurt her.

“Why don’t we go see what that bakery has to offer?” I suggested.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“Are you kidding me? You’ve got me craving a fresh maple bar or maybe some warm cookies.”

Her pretty smile warmed my heart. “I guess I could go for a donut.”

“Then let’s go. I’m starving. Maybe we should eat lunch before we dive into sweet treats.”

She scoffed. “My dad always told me that when I was an adult, I could eat dessert before dinner, but as long as I was a kid, he dictated what order I ate in. I’m an adult and I want a donut before my lunch.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that logic,” I said with a laugh.

We walked hand in hand again as we strolled through the park and across the street to the row of little shops and eateries. We ordered our choice of donuts before I led her back outside to a small bistro style table in front of the shop.

“This is so good,” she commented.

I took a bite of the maple bar that was fresh and gooey and tasted like heaven. I was nodding my head before I remembered she couldn’t see me. “So good,” I mumbled around a mouthful. “I think I’m going to be on sugar overload after this.”

She giggled, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I never understood why we came to get

a donut after we had played in the park. It would have made more sense to eat then play.”

“I agree. Did you come here with your dad?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. Usually a nanny.”

She was acting normal, but I felt her holding back still. We finished our donuts before walking across the street to a café to grab something a little healthier. She insisted on paying for our lunch. I told myself she needed to feel independent, but it still hurt my pride just a little.

“Bree, about yesterday,” I started, when we got in the car to go back home.

“Luke, it’s fine. We all have bad days. You don’t have to apologize anymore or explain.”

“I feel like I do. For one, it was totally unprofessional of me to show up to work with a hangover. I don’t do that kind of thing.”

“I know. I get it.”

Again, I sensed she was just going through the motions. “I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.”

“But that’s just it. You are frustrated,” she said. “Is it me?”

“No!” I quickly answered. “It isn’t you at all. It’s just other stuff.”

“Stuff you don’t want to tell me. I get it. I’m not asking you.”

I took a deep breath. Not wanting to burden her with my problems. I wasn’t going to get into the whole mess with my mother. She didn’t need that kind of drama in her life. “It isn’t you, just so you know. It absolutely isn’t you. It’s family stuff. I’m working through it and I promise, I will never treat you like that again.”

She reached over. I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Deal,” she said with a smile before taking her hand back.

We got back to the house and as part of our usual routine, we went to the solarium. “Do you have someone that comes in to take care of these plants?” I asked, trying to fill the conversational void.