Read Online Butterfly Weeds by Laura Miller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Miller
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body. “I love you more than the world itself, and I can’t imagine life without you.”
He paused, kissed my forehead and put his lips to my ear again.
“You’ll get in, and I’ll be happy for you. And we’ll find a way to be together – no matter what. If I have to sing songs on the sidewalks of New Milford to get to you, I’ll do it,” he said, softly laughing.
An overwhelming feeling of love overtook me then. It was as if he alone held the keys to my sanity and my safety and my happiness, and he had just used them to give me life again. So much fo r showing him that I was angry.
“I’m sorry too,” I whispered back. “I should have told you. But let’s not fight anymore. I love you,” I said, nestling my head into his broad, muscular chest.
And in those three words, I felt like I understood then that life would not always automatically generate a perfect puzzle joined together by fireworks and fireflies. And though I had hoped that we would not fight like that again, I ultimately knew that life would not be that easy on us. Some jagged pieces that didn’t seem to quite fit together were always going to be in the box – this, I somehow knew. But what is a puzzle without the hard to fit pieces? Why would people even bother to put it together without the challenge and the excitement in seeing the image slowly become one, united likeness? In the end, I had to believe that when all of the pieces were touching, they would leave behind a beautiful depiction of life. And I knew that if Will and I could somehow find a way to be together in the final act that we would always find a way to combine the jagged pieces to construct a beautiful ending. I held tightly to this assumption as I surrendered to his gentle embrace and hoped in his promise.
“Jules, we’re gonna grow old and wrinkly together, you know that, right?” Will softly whispered into my ear.
I smiled as he squeezed me tighter and seemed to take in the flowery scent of my hair.
“I know,” I whispered.
Chasing Fires
“H ey, Good Lookin’,” Will called out as he snuck up behind me, took the couple of books from my hands and put his arm around my waist.
I jumped slightly, but quickly recovered when I realized who it was.
“Hey,” I said, smiling. “You scared me.”
“Just waking you up, my Sweet Jules ,” he said in his sultry voice.
The voice was cheerful and comforting.
“I mean, today, it’s calculus and physics, but tomorrow it’s the presidency,” he continued, giving me a wink.
I smiled at him coyly. Then, I grabbed my backpack and duffle bag, closed the jeep’s door and turned toward the lingering figure tower ing over my much smaller frame.
“And are you prepared to be the First Gentleman yet?” I asked. A sarcastic smirk lingered on my lips.
“Sure, but only as long as I can turn the backyard into an eighteen-hole golf course. Oh, and I would like to be addressed as Will, Will Stephens ,” he said in his best James Bond impression.
“What?” I asked. I shook my head slowly and squinted my eyes for effect as I spoke.
“It’s just one, measly, little golf course and one, measly, little name request. I don’t think the American people would mind,” he said with a mischievous half smile. “ Roosevelt got a zebra,” he added.
My bewildered stare caught
He paused, kissed my forehead and put his lips to my ear again.
“You’ll get in, and I’ll be happy for you. And we’ll find a way to be together – no matter what. If I have to sing songs on the sidewalks of New Milford to get to you, I’ll do it,” he said, softly laughing.
An overwhelming feeling of love overtook me then. It was as if he alone held the keys to my sanity and my safety and my happiness, and he had just used them to give me life again. So much fo r showing him that I was angry.
“I’m sorry too,” I whispered back. “I should have told you. But let’s not fight anymore. I love you,” I said, nestling my head into his broad, muscular chest.
And in those three words, I felt like I understood then that life would not always automatically generate a perfect puzzle joined together by fireworks and fireflies. And though I had hoped that we would not fight like that again, I ultimately knew that life would not be that easy on us. Some jagged pieces that didn’t seem to quite fit together were always going to be in the box – this, I somehow knew. But what is a puzzle without the hard to fit pieces? Why would people even bother to put it together without the challenge and the excitement in seeing the image slowly become one, united likeness? In the end, I had to believe that when all of the pieces were touching, they would leave behind a beautiful depiction of life. And I knew that if Will and I could somehow find a way to be together in the final act that we would always find a way to combine the jagged pieces to construct a beautiful ending. I held tightly to this assumption as I surrendered to his gentle embrace and hoped in his promise.
“Jules, we’re gonna grow old and wrinkly together, you know that, right?” Will softly whispered into my ear.
I smiled as he squeezed me tighter and seemed to take in the flowery scent of my hair.
“I know,” I whispered.
Chasing Fires
“H ey, Good Lookin’,” Will called out as he snuck up behind me, took the couple of books from my hands and put his arm around my waist.
I jumped slightly, but quickly recovered when I realized who it was.
“Hey,” I said, smiling. “You scared me.”
“Just waking you up, my Sweet Jules ,” he said in his sultry voice.
The voice was cheerful and comforting.
“I mean, today, it’s calculus and physics, but tomorrow it’s the presidency,” he continued, giving me a wink.
I smiled at him coyly. Then, I grabbed my backpack and duffle bag, closed the jeep’s door and turned toward the lingering figure tower ing over my much smaller frame.
“And are you prepared to be the First Gentleman yet?” I asked. A sarcastic smirk lingered on my lips.
“Sure, but only as long as I can turn the backyard into an eighteen-hole golf course. Oh, and I would like to be addressed as Will, Will Stephens ,” he said in his best James Bond impression.
“What?” I asked. I shook my head slowly and squinted my eyes for effect as I spoke.
“It’s just one, measly, little golf course and one, measly, little name request. I don’t think the American people would mind,” he said with a mischievous half smile. “ Roosevelt got a zebra,” he added.
My bewildered stare caught
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