Our Song (12 page)

She squeezes my shoulder with her hand. “You’ll be fine! Just relax, and have fun.”

How I’m supposed to do either of those things, the world may never know. But here goes nothing.

***

I am
extremely
glad there is no one else here at the gun range right now. Especially Becca’s dad. I can’t believe I’m so bad at this! “Becca?” I say, looking behind me to make sure she hears me. “Maybe you should just finish off my second clip. It’s obvious I’m not going to win this round, and it seems like a waste of bullets for me to continue.”

Becca nods her head as she walks toward me. But instead of taking the gun from me like I expect her to, she puts her hands on my shoulders and turns me back toward my target. “Alright, Asher. You really aren’t that bad at this, especially for your first time out. The first time my dad took me, I shot 20 bullets, and only 3 of them even hit the target, say nothing about anywhere near the center.”

I snort, then ask, “And how old were you then? Eight? Nine?”

“I was seven,” she responds, “not that it matters.” She takes a deep breath, then moves her hand from her shoulders, down my biceps, until their each grasping my forearms. “Okay then, put your hands back on the gun the way I showed you.” I do as she asks, my insides beginning to boil. Not only is she touching both of my arms, but the front of her body is pressed against my back, since she’s too small to reach my arms otherwise. “Now lift it up so you can see down the sights, closing your right eye.” I start shaking as soon as the gun is up where it belongs, but not because of its weight. “Steady,” she instructs, holding my arms still.

There is no way in Heaven I am going to be able to shoot with her standing so close. “Becca—“

“Hush. Just do as I say.”

I stay silent, waiting for her next instructions. “Now, can you see both sights, and the center of the target?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, I want you to bend slightly at the waist,” she says, while pressing her chest against my back to get me to do as she asked.
Lord, have mercy on me.
“Take a deep breath, and then when you let it out, just pull the trigger at the same time.”

Come on, man. You can do this.
I close my eyes for a moment, savoring Becca’s touch. Then I take in a deep breath, focus my left eye through the sites to the bullseye, and then breathe out, pulling the trigger at the same moment.

Bang!
I close both eyes again, too nervous to see if I’m still such a crap shot.

“Woohoo!” Becca shouts, which has me setting down the gun and turning to look at her. She lets go of me as she does an adorable little victory dance. “Look where you hit!”

When I turn back around, I can see a tiny new hole in my target, almost exactly in the middle. I stare at it in shock. “Asher, you did it!” Becca flings herself at me again, wrapping me in a tight hug. It feels so good, I can’t help but wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight to myself.

I hang onto her as long as seems appropriate, and when I let her go, her cheeks are that beautiful rosy red again. Feeling a little bashful myself, I put my hands into my pockets. “Like I said earlier, I should never have doubted you. You are a fantastic teacher, and I never would have been able to hit that bullseye if it weren’t for your excellent teaching skills.” I give her my biggest smile, hoping she’ll see just how true that statement was. “Seriously, you’ll make a fantastic music teacher someday.”

She tries to hide her grin, ever-modest as she is. “Thanks.” Becca quickly turns back towards the target, then looks at me again. “Why don’t you finish up that clip, then we’ll clean up our mess and head back to the cabin.”

I quickly agree, knowing that if I’m feeling as high as I am with all this touching, and closeness, Becca is probably feeling overwhelmed.

-----

Becca

Holy wow.

I'm feeling a bit warm and tingly all over. I openly stare at Asher as he begins shooting again. It's not like he, or anyone else, can see me right now. And I can't stop smiling.

I press my palms to my cheeks, feeling the heat that has gathered there, hoping my cool hands will help remove my blush.

I can't believe how good it felt to be so close to Asher. Or for him to compliment me. I'm still feeling a bit embarrassed about that, but accepting compliments is something I'm going to have to work on. After dealing with Trip for so long, it's often hard for me to believe that there is anything for me to be complimented on.

Here's to hoping, with Asher's help, I can figure out who I am and what I want to be again.

Chapter Sixteen

Becca

It was really hard making sure I got out of bed this morning without Asher waking up. I had to ask my mom to set her alarm, then come get me so I could make Asher’s blueberry breakfast cake before he woke up. I wanted it to be true breakfast in bed, even if he did already know it was coming.

When I get up to the kitchen, mom heads back to bed. But as I’m beating the eggs and vanilla together, Asher’s dad moseys into the kitchen in his pajamas. Thankfully, they are pajamas that include top and bottoms, or this could have been a whole lot more awkward.

“Good morning, Becca. How’s that blueberry breakfast cake coming along?”

“I just got started, but everything is ready to go, so it should be in the oven as soon as it finishes pre-heating. Why are you up so early? You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

Robert sighs. “I’ve always been an early riser. Even when I was a kid. It’s usually a good thing. But then there are other times, like now, where it would be nice to be able to sleep in.”

“So that’s where Asher gets it from.”

“Gets what from?”

I nod my head toward him. “His bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, morning peppiness.”

Robert laughs. “I guess I’ve never paid attention since I’m usually gone from home before anyone else gets up in the morning, except on the weekends of course. Is he always like that?”

“Gosh, yes, he is!” I say almost too loudly as I fold the blueberries into the rest of the batter. I lower my volume before continuing. “At first I thought it was great to have someone happy to be awake in the morning at jazz choir rehearsals.” I smile, remembering those early mornings with our classmates three years ago. “But after a few days of that, I realized it was impossible for him to understand that sometimes, we all just need to be tired in peace.”

Just then Laura walks out of their room, yawning. She wraps her arms around Robert’s shoulders and says, “He’s not bothering you, is he Becca?”

“Not at all Laura,” I respond. “We were just discussing how Asher must have gotten his morning person traits from Robert.”

She cracks up. “Well he definitely didn’t get them from me! I would sleep until at least ten every day if my responsibilities didn’t have me getting up earlier.”

I smile and tell her, “Well, breakfast won’t be ready for another forty-five minutes or so, so if you want to get a few more winks before starting your day, I won’t be offended if you go back to bed.”

Sighing she replies, “Normally I would, but I think it’s high time I learned how to make this blueberry breakfast cake of yours. Are you willing to share your secret recipe?”

“Of course! You just come round the breakfast bar here and I’ll show you how it’s done. And I’ll make sure to write it all down for you.”

“Well,” Robert says, standing from his chair, “since you ladies are going to be hard at work here in the kitchen, I guess I can start packing up a few things to take out on the lake with us the next couple of days.”

“Oh!” I squeak. I’d almost forgotten they are headed out for the next two days, which will leave Asher and I here alone.
How on earth had I forgotten that already?
“I’m sure you guys will have a great time. Is there anything I can help prepare?”

A Cheshire grin comes onto Robert’s face, and I can see Asher got another trait from his father. “I think you have plenty to prepare yourself for, what with you and Asher staying here all by yourselves for the next two days.” He winks at me, then strides back toward their bedroom.

I can feel the heat creeping onto my face, and it’s not coming from the kitchen.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Laura says, smiling in what I’m sure is meant to be reassurance. “Robert just likes to get people worked up over nothing.”

I’m not sure it’s over
nothing
, but I keep that to myself.

“So, as you can see, I already started by whisking together the eggs and vanilla…”

***

I carefully carry the breakfast tray down the stairs, excited to bring Asher his breakfast in bed. When I first lost, I was a bit sad that I would making breakfast for everyone this morning. But now, I’m kind of excited to be giving him such a great gift. His tray looks like a picture from a food magazine. Which is why I took a picture of it before I brought it down here. There are two beautiful slices of cake on his plate, with one piece overlapping the other on one corner. I drizzled some blueberry syrup over it, and across the plate. I also put two slices of bacon, and two sausage links on a second, smaller plate. And I couldn’t forget the orange juice.

As I push the door to the bunk room open as quietly as possible, I take a deep breath, waiting to fully step into the room until my nerves have calmed down to a low buzz.

Here goes.

-----

Asher

I take a deep breath, half asleep, when I realize there is a new scent in the room. “Is that my blueberry breakfast cake?” I ask without opening my eyes.

Becca gasps, then lightly laughs. “Holy Moses, Asher, you scared me! You’re lucky I had already set your breakfast tray on the night stand, or I probably would have dropped your food all over the floor.”

I roll onto my side and look at her. “Well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

Her cheeks are a little rosy, but it looks like it’s more from excitement than embarrassment. That’s when I look down at the rest of her, and realize
she’s still in her pajamas.
All she’s wearing is a pair of boxers and a skimpy tank top.

Clearing my throat, I look back up at her face, then over to the breakfast tray. “Wow, Becca. That breakfast looks fit for a king!”

Now her blush is turning crimson. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little bit of blueberry syrup, and a quick, easy arrangement.” She turns away from me to pick up the breakfast tray. “So, are you coming down to eat from a lower bunk? Or are you going to make me carry the tray up to you?”

I smile. “Well, if I get out of bed, that means, I didn’t get to stay in my bed to have breakfast, which kind of defeats the purpose of winning breakfast in bed. However, you also do not have to carry the tray up the ladder. Just bring it over here, and I’ll take it from you.”

She does exactly that, but once I’ve removed all of the tray’s weight from her hands, she takes a step away, moving her hands behind her back. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your breakfast then,” she says, looking around the room.

Is she serious? “No. Stay. Climb up here. I promise I’ll make room for you to sit with me.”

“Oh. Okay.” She looks back at the door to the bunk room, but then moves forward toward the ladder.

Once she’s made it up, I toss a pillow to her, so she can lean against it instead of the wall. Once she’s made herself comfortable, I dig into my food, and let out an involuntary moan. “God this is good.”

Becca looks at my plate, then back to her hands, which are currently folded in her lap. “I’m glad you like it.” She looks again at my plate.

That’s when a thought occurs to me. “Becca? Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

She shakes her head, still looking down. “No. Everyone else has already eaten, and those two pieces of cake on your plate were the last two.”

I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. “Are you telling me that you got up early this morning, and made blueberry breakfast cake, and you didn’t even get to eat any of it?”

“It’s not a big deal. I had a couple slices of bacon while I was cooking, and I’ll just have a bagel or something when I bring the dishes back upstairs.”

No she won’t. I cut a bite from my breakfast and point the fork toward her. “Here. We can share this.”

Her eyes widen. “Are you sure? You won this after all.”

“Becca, I would hardly be able to enjoy this knowing that you didn’t get any of it after all the work you did to make it for me.”

She leans forward an inch, then hesitates. “Maybe I should go grab another fork.”

“Becca.” I move the fork right in front of her mouth. “We have shared plenty of germs over the last nine years of our lives. It’s fine. Just take the bite.”

She wraps her lips around my fork, and slowly pulls the cake off the fork, closing her eyes and savoring what she’s eating. It has me thinking about things I shouldn’t be. Maybe this is why Becca suggested getting her own fork.

I quickly shake off those thoughts and take my own bite of cake. “Lord have mercy. Becca this is so good!”

Giggling, Becca looks at me and says, “Well, I’m glad I showed your mom how to make it this morning. Now she can bake it for you whenever you want.”

“Yes! She’s gonna be sorry she asked you for the recipe. Because I’m going to ask her to make it all the time now.”

She shakes her head at me while she steals a piece of my bacon. I grab her wrist before she can get it to her mouth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She grins at me, and I can see that sparkle coming back into her eyes. “What? You said we were sharing this breakfast. I assumed you meant more than just sharing one bite of your cake with me.”

“Touché,” I reply, letting go of her wrist. I take another bite of my breakfast. “Maybe I’ll have to make you breakfast tomorrow, since you’ve been cooking for me so much this week.”

“Oh, really?” she asks, one eyebrow raised. “And what would that consist of?”

“Oh, you know. Hot cocoa. Toast. Fruit. Cereal if you want. All part of a healthy breakfast.”

“That sounds wonderful. I might just have to take you up on that. And there won’t be anyone else around tomorrow to judge you on your choice of breakfast food, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Believe me, Becca. I don’t need you to remind me that we will be home. Alone. For the next two days.

Lord help me.