The Predicament of Persians - A.G. Henley Page 0,14
They’re a little bit dangerous—but without being really unsafe.” And they remind me of Dad. Only, I don’t want to get into that right now when everything has been so wonderful. “Is that strange?”
“Not at all.” He sounds thoughtful.
We watch the coaster slide to a stop over our heads to let its passengers off.
“If we hurry, we might be able to hop on the next one,” I say.
“Then again, if we wait, you can choose which car you want to ride in.”
He’s right, only a handful of people wait in line by the time we get to the entrance. I choose the rear car.
Joe laughs. “I wondered if you’d want the back, front, or middle. Now I know.”
I switch Junior to my other arm. “And what does that say about me?”
He studies me, a small smile on his face. “That you’re a little cautious. Not the first to jump into something. But sitting in the back also gives you the sense of moving faster, more powerfully, into the experience. And I think you like that.”
I nod. He’s not far off. After a moment, I ask, “Where would you choose to sit?”
“Where would you guess?”
I don’t hesitate. “The front.”
“Why?”
“You have to be a kind of a risk taker. Maybe a little impulsive. I mean . . .” I wave between us. Look at how he asked me out.
“Maybe.” He moves a step closer. “But you’re wrong about where I’d sit.”
I tilt my head, surprised. “Really? Where then?”
“Wherever you are,” he says simply.
Tears—actual tears—fill my eyes. He puts an arm around my waist as the cars stop in front of us. We get in, but when I try to squeeze Junior between us, the female attendant walking along the cars stops me.
“That guy’s a little too big to ride safely with you two. I’ll put him over here on the shelves for you to pick up after the ride.” I hand her Junior, which leaves a gap between Joe and me.
Without a word, we slide together so our hips touch, and Joe puts an arm around me. We click the safety bar down on our laps and get ready to ride.
The Twister is an old-fashioned style coaster. It leaves the covered station and chugs up a steep hill of white wooden slats supporting metal rails. The slow clunk of the cars’ wheels moving forward ramps up the anticipation of reaching the top. Knowing you’re about to plunge down the other side in a matter of seconds is a major part of the fun.
Joe turns to me, speaking in my ear to be heard over the clatter of the coaster as it ascends the hill.
“Thank you for spending your birthday with me.”
I lay my hand on his knee. A simple touch, but it sends shivers through my body. He tenses.
“Thank you for everything,” I say to him. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in years.”
Joe smiles, and as we reach the top, he pulls me in and kisses me. His lips are sweet and gentle and his breath warm and dry. It’s like heaven encased in the merest touch.
The front car drops over the top of the hill. The kids sitting in it scream. As our car reaches the apex, I barely notice the clattering drop, much less the lights of downtown Denver around us.
The stars above flare. Fireworks explode. Flowers bloom behind my closed eyes.
Because somehow, someway, in one incredible night with one incredible man, I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love.
Chapter Seven
“O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.
Being in night, all this is but a dream.”
- Romeo and Juliet (Act 2, Scene 2)
Joe
With that kiss, I know:
Kathleen is the only woman for me, now and forever.
Don’t ask me how or why it happened. Don’t tell me it’s immature or impulsive.
Like I told her, sometimes you just know.
And I know.
Chapter Eight
“Good night, good night!
Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it
be morrow.”
- Romeo and Juliet (Act 2, Scene 2)
Kathleen
Joe and I are quiet on the ride home from Elitchs. It doesn’t take long, so it isn’t awkward. He kisses me again outside my hotel door; the second embrace is as soft and sweet as the first was exhilarating and passionate.
He winds my fingers through his and pitches his voice low. “Have breakfast with me.”
I hesitate. “Okay, but it will have to be early, like at eight? And . . . I might have James with me.”
“Great. I’ll bring my cousin.”
I pause. “Your cousin?”
“Didn’t I tell you he