texaswildfire

The dinner/feast was fantastic!
I had never been politely forced to eat so much in my whole life.
Marc's uncle had us drink wine with dinner.
It was weird to be treated as an adult by them.
Though, it's not weird to talk to my parents.

They're pissed.
Well, they are so far beyond 'pissed' that there isn't a word for it.
Dad wants me to come home.
He says I have made a mistake.
Mom was crying.
She told me to come home, that she understands.

She doesn't get it.
I don't want to go home now.
Not even 1% of me wants to go back.
They don't want to hear that.
Still, they said they will send some of my things.
Clothes, books, shoes.
The things I was concerned most about.

The second thing I was concerned about gets addressed.
Marc is going to work with his uncle; Paul.
I am going to work with his aunt; Martine.
Paul runs a newspaper.
Martine has a coffee shop.
I have never made coffee.
Not even instant.
Still, she assures me that I will find something there I am good at.
We both start in three days.

It's after 10 o'clock when we get back to the house.
Our house.
Our house.
That, for some reason, doesn't sound right.
But, it's just us.
Alone.

We talk about the conversations we had with our parents.
Neither were very happy.
My parents are concerned about school.
So are his.
But, what is more important?
Learning it first hand or being stuck in a classroom?

I like the first option more.
Right now anyway.

"Are you excited to go shopping tomorrow with Aunt Martine," Marc asks while we both get ready for bed. Him in fresh boxers. Me in the new panties and t-shirt that were included in my backpack. "I think she really likes you, even though you're skinny."

"So are you," I shoot back playfully. "And we're only shopping for, what, food?"

"Food from an open market," he corrects. "It's the most amazing, fresh food on the planet. How much money did you have in your wallet?"

"Maybe $150 American plus I have the birthday money I got from grandpa in my pocket," I tell him. "So, all together, $250. How much do you have?"

"A lot more than that but you should that exchanged while you're out tomorrow and have aunt Martine take you to some shops to buy, well, some things you will need. Underwear, bras, stuff like that," he suggests. "Just basic stuff to hold you over until your stuff arrives. I am going to do the same with uncle Paul tomorrow."

"Do you really think we can make this work, Marc?"

A smile stretches across his face, bright and beautiful.
He walks over to me and, amazingly, his arms wrap around me.
They are a combination of things.
Warm.
Safe.
Assuring.
Loving.
Confident.
All the other things I wish I could, and am trying to, be.

His hands smooth over my hair and shoulders.
He kisses my forehead.
Then, he pulls away just enough so I can see him smile again.

"We can do anything. Honestly, Rose, we are two of the most responsible people on the planet and we know how to cope in high stress situations. Here, it's just us. We don't have to please our parents, die to keep decent grades or worry about getting to spend time together," he says. "We'll be okay, Rose."

"How do you know we will be?"

"Because I love you. That's reason enough to know something will be good," he tells me.

I consider him to be right.
Things will be okay.
We just have to work at it.
Love is worth it.
Always is.
I think.

We sleep cuddled together tight.
It was just one more perfect moment with him.
Knowing there are more helps my mind to relax.
I get to rest but not dream.
That's okay, though.
I don't need to dream.
I have one wrapped around me.

The next morning is overly sunny.
I can get away with wearing the same jeans I arrived in.
I am not quite ready to wear those dresses.
Martine doesn't make a big deal about anything.
Even the fact that I am not perfectly made up.
How could I be anyway?
I have nothing to make myself up with.

"Don't worry about anything at all," she tells me as we leave the market, hands full of things she insists we need for the house. "Your parents understand there are worse places you can be in the world. And, Marc, he loves you. Even someone afflicted with blindness could see that. He wouldn't have done this if he didn't."

"Thank you for everything," I manage to say without my voice cracking. "This something we planned but I didn't think we'd ever follow through. I told him all the reasons why we shouldn't."

"He must have thought of a thousand more reasons why being here was better for you both in the end," Martine smiles. "Don't let all this weigh heavy on your shoulders, my dearest. Treat it as you getting the chance at life that not a lot of others get. Do you know how many people dream of just packing their things and leaving to start anew?"

Hundreds.
Thousands.
Millions.
Everyone dreams of running away at times.
Just...so few do it.

They talk themselves out of it.
They come up with reasons to stay stuck.
Marc saw that being stuck wouldn't suit us anymore.
I was used to it.
It was everything I knew.
Mom. Dad. Seth. Jonah.
Cheating boyfriend.
Betrayed by a best friend.

Now, there is more.
Brilliant sun.
Marc. Me. Us alone.
And, for some reason, that is okay.

I get my money exchanged.
There is nowhere near the same amount I had before.
Still, it's enough to get basic things.
Everything in black except socks.
Those stay crisp white.
I got some cheap t-shirts.
They will do until my stuff can get here.

Martine helps me bring things into the house.
She doesn't stay, though.
There is a matter of putting her own things away and making dinner.
We are expected to go again tonight.
I don't mind it at all.
There are only a limited number of things I can make as a main course.

Marc is there to help me.
He puts the groceries away.
I put clothes into one of the small, but long, dressers in our room.

"It's nice to see you in such a good mood instead of an unsure one," Marc notes when he joins me upstairs. "Did you have a good time with Martine?"

"Sure," I say, not quite beaming. "It was a nice day, I suppose. I guess I need a little more time to get used to everything. You know, I have never been away from my parents without having some kind of supervision before. It's a strange new thing to me."

"I understand. This place will start to feel more like home once all the dust is settled and you're able to look over at your night stand to see your favorite book. It might take a little while but it will happen," he says, taking a seat on the very edge of the bed. "You will like working with Martine. Once she finds out how well you bake, she will try to capitalize on it. She can teach you all sorts of things since she went to a culinary school. Granted that was a long time ago."

A life of making pies, cakes and cookies.
Fudge, crackers and brownies.
Maybe that won't be so bad.
It beats being a hooker.
Or drug mule.

"Making cake is better than sitting through a boring math class any day. Do you know what you are going to be doing," I ask, sitting next to him.

He nods.

"Proof-reading for the time being, which is going to be a little bit of a challenge since I am not so great with German. It will be better than nothing, though," he muses. "And it's a stepping stone to what I have always wanted to do anyway; write. Enough of this! What do you want to do tonight? We have a whole backyard and I'm sure the sky will be clear."

"We have no telescope," I remind him.

"You don't need one all the time. Sometimes, stars are better viewed without aid," he says, gently pushing his shoulder into mine. "It helps keep their secrets hidden. You know what, I will ask uncle Paul for his book on constellations and we can try to find them all when we get home."

His use of the word "home" has a dual effect.
It makes me smile while my heart breaks.
This is home now.
It will never be my parents house again.
Sure, I may go back there but it won't ever really be home again.

"Not all of them but most," I correct him. "We can't do it all at once."

"Of course," he agrees. "Just a few then. I don't think I will be paying much attention to them anyway. Not with you sitting beside me."

He's nothing if not honest.
So, my broken heart starts to pull its peices together.
With my satellite orbiting me, things will be fine.
Better than fine.
Stellar.