The Satyr - Tiana Laveen Page 0,117

the balloons in the trunk. The wind had got a hold of them and fought him all the way. Yasmine found the sight rather amusing.

“Let me help.”

“No.”

“Nixon, don’t be silly! Let me help you!”

“I got this! I have it. These balloons don’t know who they are messing with!” Hmmm… sounds familiar. Only I wasn’t talking to a balloon when I said it, but he definitely was full of hot air. “TAKE THAT!” He made a karate chop sound, then slammed the car trunk door closed. By now, Yasmine was certain she was red in the face from laughing so hard, and boy did it feel good. Especially after the day she’d been having.

He opened her door, helped her inside the car, then went to the driver’s side and slid in like hot candle wax on glass. She loved how broad his shoulders were, how he moved, every damn thing about him… every inch of him. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his succulent, full lips. He cupped the back of her neck, bringing her closer, and kissed her back. After a while, he started up the engine and she inhaled the smell of musk, vanilla, and cigars.

Kraftwerk’s ‘Autoban’ played through the speakers. I haven’t heard this song in probably over a decade… She reached for Nixon’s hand and intertwined their fingers. His calloused palms felt comforting, as if she could syphon some of his strength and use it as her own. She crossed her legs, leaned back in the car seat, and closed her eyes. Soon the music transitioned to Kraftwerk’s ‘Trans-Europe Express.’ Nixon did enjoy his club music. Before she knew it, she’d drifted off to sleep. She was awakened by a feathery kiss on her neck, and him whispering in her ear.

“Wake up, baby.”

Her eyes fluttered and she sat up, a bit dazed. He rubbed on her back to soothe her. When she looked out the window, emotions swelled within her, making her chest tight.

“Why are we here at the cemetery?” She looked about, noting all the graves.

“Today is your sister’s birthday,” he stated, looking straight ahead, his hand resting along the steering wheel. Her chest burned, her eyes watered, and she blinked away the tears. She said nothing as he embraced her, squeezed her sorrows and made her feel every bit of them. “That’s what the balloons were for.”

“Oh my God. I thought the balloons were for me because of the award I’d gotten a couple days ago, the one I told you I was so happy about. You said you were going to get something in celebration… I thought, oh my goodness… never mind. Wow.” She smiled sadly and shook her head.

“I did pick you up something for that. I’m so proud of you, but I was going to give it to you tonight. You told me the other day that today is your sister’s birthday, and you wanted to go to her gravesite, but had been too busy.”

She opened the door with a shaky hand, and they stepped out of the car at the same time. She stood there, feeling surreal, tired, and anxious. I never forget her birthday… Today has been awful. I was distracted. The air was cool with a slight wind and the sky was gray, but she couldn’t smell any rain in the air. When Nixon joined her, he had the balloons in hand and was right by her side every step of the way. They walked through Rosehill Cemetery, one of the oldest in Illinois.

“Tamia’s grave is over there.” She pointed up ahead. “My father comes once every couple of months or so, and places flowers on it.”

“I know where it is.” Nixon tracked ahead in a purposeful stride. His back was straight, gait confident as he made his way towards the tombstone with the flowers, musical notes, and fish carved in the sandstone. She reached him after a few seconds and watched in awe as he tied the balloons to a stake covered in flowers, which he drove into the ground. Such care he displayed, as if this had been his sister, too. So many questions danced in her head as they held hands and looked down at her sister’s last resting place.

“Before you fell asleep, you looked upset, like something was bothering you. Everything okay?”

“No, everything is not okay. Mr. Riser and I exchanged words today. I think Tamia would be proud of how I handled it. She was always stronger than me.” Nixon remained silent.

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