That Day by Karen Deen (best novels to read in english txt) 📕

“Nope,” I reply.

“Not a chance.” Seth looks at me. “Besides, your macho boyfriend there is super competitive, which made growing up a whole lot funnier. He was so easy to bait and watch him take the challenge hook, line, and sinker. Brought me so much joy, I can tell you.”

“Not as much as beating your ass in nearly everything you tried.” I lean down and kiss the top of Asha’s head, which brings her closer than she already was, if that’s possible. Her face turns up to me with such a peaceful look.

We all sit there for a few minutes just enjoying the silence, my hand rubbing up and down her back slowly. It’s like she has been part of my world for years and this is just a typical night with Seth. Her head snuggles in under my chin on my chest, and I look across at Seth, trying to give him the hint.

Finally, after smirking at me that he was about to get another beer, he makes his move. “I think it’s time I better make tracks. I have another early start in the morning. Need to look at Jodie’s car and see if I can find her ‘funky gremlin’ as she called it. That woman is crazier than you. Must run in the family.”

“Thanks for taking care of it for her, man. I appreciate it.” When I move to get up, he holds up his hand.

“No, don’t get up. I’ll show myself out. Thanks for letting me crash your date. I had a good night. Nice to laugh like that. We don’t do it enough.” Walking towards us, he leans down and kisses Asha on the cheek and grabs my hand in a bro shake. “Nice to meet you, Asha, I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you. I mean, it baffles me what you see in him, but he seems happy, so I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“Lovely to meet you too, Seth. And I suppose it must be that big helicopter of his that keeps me interested.”

“Yeah, baby.” Asha and I chuckle, high-fiving each other.

“Bullshit,” Seth mumbles under his breath as he disappears inside and the front door closes, signaling him gone.

“Finally, I have you to all to myself. Whatever will I do with you?” Placing my beer down on the ground and taking Asha’s from her too, I pull the rug off her and lift her to lie on top of me, sliding farther down the day bed so we are almost flat. I lay the rug back over her and wrap her up tightly.

“I thought you would be racing up to the bedroom as soon as he left.” Her hands settle on my chest and she rests her chin on top of them, looking at me with such happiness.

“We have plenty of time for that. I’m enjoying holding you under the stars for a bit. Just you and me and the peace of the night.” Kissing her on the forehead, I want so much to tell her everything that I know, but I can’t.

“Sounds, perfect.” Her tiny body fits perfectly on top of mine as we lie back and just breathe in the night air.

A few songs pass and I know I shouldn’t, but I want to get to know more about her life. The real her. As much as she can share with me.

“Tell me about you, Asha. We’re always talking about me, but I want to get to know you.” It’s easier to ask and not seem guilty, with her lying on my chest and looking out towards the water. Hopefully she’ll find it easier too.

“You know it all. I’m an author living on my own with a crazy dog.” Her voice is a little unsure.

“Tell me about your childhood. I want to hear about this great treehouse that you claim to have built. Did you have brothers and sisters to help you?” I ask, not pushing, letting her reply in her own time.

“I’m an only child, so it was just me and my dad. I loved to spend time with him. He was a factory worker who liked to build things in his spare time. He was always out in the shed at night or on weekends, tinkering with something. My mom used to tell me that she gave up worrying about him out there at all hours. That was what made him happy, so she just left him to it.”

“Maybe that’s where you get your creative side from?” I run my hand through her hair. I love it down and flowing.

“Oh, definitely. He was always making up stories and making me laugh. Mom said he should have written some of those stories down, but he would just wave her off and continue on. Maybe one day I’ll write them down for him and publish some children’s stories. I can remember them like it was yesterday.

“But his true love was wooden furniture. Mom would often tell me the story of when she told him she was pregnant. He disappeared for days into that shed, every waking moment he wasn’t at work. He told her she wasn’t allowed out there until he gave her the all-clear.” Taking a breath, she continues on.

“Mom started to get a little worried that he wasn’t as happy as she was about a baby on its way. Then one night he came home from work, took a shower, and asked her to let him blindfold her.”

“Oh damn, I hope this story doesn’t get X-rated now,” I say, trying to break the seriousness of it.

Smacking me on the arm, she continues. “No, umm hello, would I be repeating if it did? But noted about the blindfold interest for later, just saying.”

“Don’t worry, duly noted.” We both laugh together.

“Anyway,” she says, “he then led her out to the shed and stood behind her. Arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek, telling her ‘Surprise!’ and asking her to take the blindfold off.”