Page 75 of Lake
“Gertie and I had been married five years…”
The man smiled as his eyes glazed over while he got lost in the memories. I loved these moments because he seemed so happy remembering his wife, his best friend.
I realized that I wanted that one day. I wanted my life partner to be one that I could share everything with. Someone that would make me laugh every day. Someone that would listen to all the important things as well as the little ones. Someone that would be there for me when times got hard and would lean on me when they felt a little shaky.
But now was not the time to think about those things.
“Saved up for three years and swept her away on a second honeymoon. Oh, it was wonderful. She bought this sexy little one piece and wore it every single day we were on that hot as hell beach. Nothing but us and the fresh air for four days. That was all I could afford. We ate peanut butter sandwiches in the hotel room but she didn’t care.”
Bridget’s eyes slid to look at me. I hadn’t even realized I’d been staring at her in a daze. There was this sweet smile on her face that had all the air rushing out of my lungs. I didn’t know what to make of it and as I tried to suck in a lungful of air, I realized that my whole body seemed to be paralyzed.
“We stopped and picked up that mug at this little shit hole of a tourist trap. But she thought it was the cutest thing. That was the beginning of it all. Swear we started traveling places just so we could get cheap, ugly mugs.”
He let out a laugh as his eyes fell closed.
Bridget studied the mugs again with a glow twinkling in her eyes. She saw them for what they were now and I could tell she was touched by it.
“Loved seeing her in that bathing suit so much, I moved her as close as I could afford to that beach. Spent many years making memories here.”
Without missing a beat, he moved on to the next story, telling Bridget about the time they drove down to New Mexico, where they picked up many new mugs to add to their collection. But he only talked about the one that held Bridget’s coffee. The one that had a cartoon alien holding up a peace sign. He went on about a hole-in-the-wall diner that they had found that served up hash that they dyed green.
“Gertie and I sat under a UFO-shaped light and talked about whether webelievedor not.”
He chuckled then took a sip of his coffee. While he talked, it seemed that all of us had forgotten about the breakfast sitting in front of us that was likely cold now.
“And did you?” she asked with bright eyes.
“It wasn’t about if we did or didn’t. It was the fact that we’d been married almost thirty years at this point and we still had new stuff to discover about each other. Now eat,” he said with a smile.
So we did, the kitchen going quiet for a good ten minutes while we inhaled our food.
“That was just the thing I needed,” Bridge said, settling back in her chair after she drained the last of her coffee. Her hand patted her belly and a lazy smile held her face captive. “Thank you, Ed.”
“Any time, girlie,” he said to her with a wink, then he turned his attention to me. “You tell her about the rules?”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I didn’t really tell her anything.”
“Must be somethin’ special you bringin’ her around here.”
Bridget let out a throaty laugh as her head fell back.
“I’m just some crazy chick passing through. Lake was nice enough to take me in even after I gave him that shiner there.”
Yeah, it was still there, the skin now turning more brown than the black and purple it had been.
Soon it would fade even more and then be gone.
Just like Bridget.
I tried not to think about it but it seemed that was there, front and center in my mind.
“Well, you are always welcome here. Rule is, pick your mug, for every new one you pick, you get the story behind it.” His eyes shifted to look at the tall cabinet that held too many ceramic cups to count. “Pick the same one a second time, you gotta tell me a story. And don’t go trying to trick me like this one here. I may be old, but my mind is still sharp as a tack.”
“That sounds fair. Hell, you will probably remember better than me.” She smiled at the old man and something warmed in my chest.
She talked like she would come around again. Like she would be here in the future. And I wanted to imagine her here with me, enjoying the company of Mr. Watkins as much as I did, but I knew it was just a false illusion. Words she said to be sweet to him.
“Do you have pictures to go with these stories?” she asked sounding like an excited kid.
