Лаура Миллер - My Butterfly

I met her eyes, and she kissed my lips.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, giving me the most perfect smile.

I squeezed my arms around her with the little strength I had left, and then I kissed her forehead.

“Told ya I’d make it,” I proudly said.

She smiled and playfully rolled her eyes.

“Did Furballs make it?” I asked.

I watched as her eyes made a circle around us. Then, eventually, they stopped. And within the next second, she was out of my arms and moving toward the edge of the bluff.

I slowly pushed myself up from the ground and watched her secure her ugly cat again. She had dirt on the side of her little jean shorts, and I think there was a twig in her hair, but she still looked beautiful. I sat there for another second watching her dust off Furballs. Then, I got up and grabbed the quilt from the ground and made my way back from the edge a little.

I tossed some twigs and some little rocks out of the way. Then, I stretched the blanket out over the grass and dirt, sat down and caught Jules peering out over the edge.

This bluff was probably the highest point in town. Down by the river and on this side of the levee, people danced around little, brick buildings and short, narrow streets. The Fourth of July had always brought people downtown. Otherwise, this part of town was pretty quiet, except for maybe when there was a state game playing at the little theater or when the river was extra high and people couldn’t stand not to come out and stare at it.

And now, even though we were pretty high up and the evening was quickly turning to night, I guessed Jules was still finding things to look at because she had been lost in the scene below us for a good while now. Then again, I guessed she was good at that too — good at always getting lost in little things. Her head seemed as if it were always churning out little thoughts.

I smiled at the thought and then lowered my eyes and noticed the edge of the quilt sticking up. I leaned over and pulled it back. There was a twig underneath, so I tossed it to the side.

“You need some help with that?”

I looked up and found her eyes on me. I smiled and shook my head.

“Now you ask, after all the work’s done, as usual, my dear,” I answered her.

A playful side-smile hung on my lips.

She gave me her best pouting face and threw her hands on her hips.

I, on the other hand, made a quick decision to take full advantage of the moment and get a good look at her. Her hair was down and fell in waves against the sides of her face. And she was wearing a tight tank top and jean shorts, and at the bottom of her long, tan legs, were her favorite, little boat shoes. She called them something else, but I was pretty sure, in the end, they were just plain old boat shoes. Though, somehow, she still managed to look as cute as hell in them.

“Get over here, pretty girl,” I demanded then.

I watched her saunter over to me, her playful smile growing. And when she got close enough, I reached up, scooped her into my arms and fell back against the quilt and the soft earth.

“How much longer do we have?” she asked, nuzzling her head into my chest.

“Oh, probably about a couple more minutes,” I said, squeezing her closer still.

“Sing to me then,” she said.

She pulled her head back and found my stare just as a smile was forcing its way to my lips.

“What do you want me to sing?” I asked.

“A song about us,” she said, tracing with her delicate fingertips the places around my eyes and nose and then lips.

“Okay then,” I eventually said, slowly nodding my head.

Satisfied, I guessed, she rested her head back onto my chest, and I watched pieces of her hair fall over her sun-kissed shoulder as she made herself comfortable. Then, my mind went to stringing together some words for her song. And when I had them, I brought my lips closer to her ears and whispered her a melody:

“Though you’d rather watch a sappy ending

Than a football game

And you’re not very good at fleeing the scene

Without a sprain,

I wouldn’t want it any other way

I’m yours forever, My Butterfly

So, looks like you’re stuck with me

‘Til the end of time.”

When I finished singing, she was laughing.

“How romantic,” she exclaimed.

There was sarcasm in her voice.

“I wrote it myself — just for you,” I proudly said.

“Thanks. I’ll just do some creative interpreting, I guess,” she said, meeting my eyes before returning to her place on my chest.

“But seriously, though, minus those passionate words, you can really get a girl’s attention,” she said. “You should sing, you know, for people, as a career. You’ve got a gift. You can’t hide it forever.”

I raised my head off the ground again.

“Why can’t I?” I asked.

She met my gaze. Her long eyelashes batted impatiently.

I saw an opportunity to kiss her pretty forehead, so I did. She smiled but seemed to stay focused on her mission.

“Because someday, somewhere, somebody’s gonna find out. Then what are you going to do?” she asked.

“Easy,” I said. “Tell them I’ve got everything I need right here.”

I squeezed my arms tighter around her little body.

“Wouldn’t it be a dream come true though?” she asked. “Plus, you would be doing the world a severe injustice if you didn’t.”

I quietly chuckled to myself.

“Mine is a far simpler dream, my sweet Jules,” I whispered into her ear.

“See what I mean with that voice; I almost believed you,” she said, softly laughing.

“Jules, trust me,” I said. “My life’s a dream already. I don’t need to go chasin’ somethin’ somewhere else.”

She paused before she spoke again.

“You haven’t even thought about it just once?” she asked.

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

“Not once,” I said.

“But you like singing, right?” she asked.

I traced the little lines in the green part of her eyes for a few seconds. Then, I kissed her lips to slow down her thoughts.

She was smiling when I pulled away from her.

“All right, my little Hollywood agent,” I said. “I’ve got you, and that’s all the fan I ever wanted.”

She tried to put on another one of those pouting faces she keeps in that little expressions box of hers, but she wasn’t quite successful at it. Her smile never really went away.

I intertwined my fingers in hers. Then, suddenly, I felt something wrapped around her finger, and I brought her hand closer to my face to get a better look at it.

She must have noticed me examining her hand because I felt her eyes on me again.

“Funny story about that little, grass ring,” she said.

I started to smile.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay,” she said.

I noticed her eyes travel back to the ring on her finger.

“See, one night, this boy and his buddies decided to take this girl and her best friend — practically as hostages — to this old windmill at the edge of town.”

“Hostages?” I asked.

Her smile grew as she nodded her head and continued.

“Evidentially, the boy had a plan to dress up like Spider-Man and to climb said windmill to fool all the townspeople into thinking that Spider-Man was alive and well in their own town.”

“Hey, I bet some people still believe it,” I said.

She stopped and playfully rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, that same night, in the shuffle of almost getting caught, I sprained my ankle and wound up hiding from Officer Brian on the other side of a mound of dirt and grass next to, who other than, Spider-Man himself.”

I angled my head back and laughed.

“Baby, I still don’t know how you managed to sprain your ankle,” I said.

I heard her giggle.

“I don’t know either,” she said, shaking her head. “But anyway, this boy or Spider-Man made me this grass ring,” she said, eyeing the ring again. “And right there in the grass and the dirt, he asked me to marry him someday.”

I was quiet and busy trying to fight back a wide smile after she had finished her story.

“That sounds made up,” I eventually said.

She lifted her head and met my gaze.

“But I have the ring to prove it,” she said, positioning her hand so that the ring was clearly in my view.

“So, you do,” I said, bringing her hand to my lips.

I kissed the ring and the finger it was on.

Then, suddenly, a loud thud forced both of our eyes to the river where a stream of reds, whites and blues were already sprinkling the night sky and lighting up the bluffs opposite us in the distance.

Julia giggled and pressed her hips against mine. I pulled her closer and watched the next firework race to the sky and then explode into tiny, little pieces of light. Jules squealed, and I felt her arm squeeze tighter around my side as she nestled her head deeper into the muscles in my chest. My eyes fell onto her face, and I smiled and noticed a piece of her long hair resting on her cheek. I picked up the strand and then gently laid it back down onto her bare shoulder. It was hard to just simply watch the fireworks because I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to tell her — what I had wanted to tell her for a long time now. Suddenly, there was another loud shriek, followed by a big thud and a colorful burst of light in the sky again. Jules looked up at me with wide eyes and a happy smile, and I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I love you, Jules,” I said, in almost a whisper.

She was quiet, and her smile was starting to fade, but her eyes were still on me, still locked in mine.

My heart sped up. Say something, anything. I watched her eyes trace a path in mine. I wondered if she had even heard me. But then, I saw her lips fall slightly open.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Her eyes smiled before her lips did. Then, she returned her head to my chest and her attention to the lights still dancing in the night’s sky.

My heart was pounding. I bet she could feel its thuds. I wanted to shout something, but I didn’t want to scare her or cause her to move from the exact place she was resting on my chest. So this was what I love you felt like. I started to replay all the days and all the moments and all the memories I had of Julia Lang. My grin widened as I realized that each moment involved me being in complete awe of her and her not even knowing it. God, I loved this girl, and I bet she still didn’t even know how much.

“Will,” I heard her soft voice say then.

“Hmm?” I asked.

“Will you sing me another song?”

“What about?” I asked.

“About us,” she said.

I could hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay,” I said, taking a second to think.

I gathered the words and then whispered into her ear another melody, but this time, it was soft and low:

“Little girl, little boy

If love has a way

Fill their fields with laughter

And scatter the sun on their day

And if it should happen to rain

Make their raindrops kisses

Straight from heaven above

That touch their hands and faces

And that fill them with love

And make the moon reflect their smiles

And their stars plenty

And, above all, keep them together

And hold them as you may

Forever and ever

Until their last days.”

She squeezed her arms tighter around my side when my lips stopped singing her song.

“It’s perfect,” she said.

I watched for a second as her eyelashes followed the path the fireworks made from the barge in the river to the heavens. Then, I kissed the top of her head, pulled her hips closer to mine and smiled.

I heard a knock at the door just as I was signing my name to the last page of paperwork.

“Come on in,” I said.

I heard the door push open, and I took a quick glance back.

“Hey, babe,” I said, setting down the pen and flipping through the healthy stack of pages.

“Hey,” I heard her say, making her way over to me.

And within seconds, I felt her arms wrap around my neck and her weight press down onto my shoulders.

“Whatcha’ workin’ on?” she asked.