Fly With Me

“Nick?” We’re lying on a blanket in the front yard, Elvis at our feet. We had our sandwiches and drinks out here for lunch, and it’s nice and quiet, a sunny day. I glance over from my lying down position, up to his face.

Slowly his eyes open and he blinks, gazing down at me. “Yes?”

Biting my lip, I try to figure out the way to ask. But I don’t. “Nothing,” I murmur, shaking my head a little and heaving a long sigh. “It’s nothing,” I repeat softly, fiddling with my fingers.

But is it?

Swallowing, I look back up to the blue skies, the moving white clouds. So fluffy-looking, it’s like you could pick them up but they wouldn’t stick in your hands, just floating away… my stomach sinks a little, as if everything is floating away- from me. Is it?

“Nick?”

He glances down. “Yes?” One of his hands slip into my hair, still long, and he starts wrapping it around his finger. “What is it, Cicily?”

“I… nothing.” I turn away and rub Elvis’ back with my toes, feeling his warmth emanating towards me, welcoming and soft. He’s such a sweet dog, playful and just perfect.

“Mhm…” he trails off, closing his eyes again. I don’t blame him, though. I’d be doing the same if it weren’t all on my mind… but still. It’s frustrating me, and I can’t give in to the thick blanket of sleep that’s so tantalizingly close for us.

“Nick?”

“Cicily?”

“I… nothing. Sorry.”

Groaning as he moves, he slips closer so we’re eye to eye, and he props himself up on his arm. “Okay. You’ve said my name three times. And you keep saying it’s nothing- but it obviously is. What do you want to take about?” He continues playing with my hair, making small braids.

My eyes watch his nimble fingers, calloused with work and music. “I… I don’t know.”

“You do.” He says it so simply, his eyes flickering into mine. “What is it, Cicily? Something’s wrong, am I right?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I confess and take a deep breath. Chewing on my lip, I meet his gaze, peering in to see if I can find the answers. My heart pounds, but I might as well get this over with. I just have to go on with this, now. “Well, back in… on the tour, a few days ago, I bought a magazine.”

He chuckles. “You? And gossip?”

“No,” I shake my head and he cocks his head, falling silent to see I’m serious. “I bought because… because you were on the front- with Miley.” I fiddle with my nails, glancing away. “And… you were with her, it said, all while I was gone.”

Nick’s silent when I chance a glance his way. Then he clears his throat. “And?”

“And…” I proceed slowly, trying to find the words. “I just… I wanted to… to know if- or, what… why didn’t you tell me?” I blurt finally, looking up with wide-open eyes. Wincing, I shake my head. “I just… I was… worried,” I mumble, looking away. “Afraid, if you will, because… you know, you didn’t… mention anything.”

“You’re right,” he says finally. “Really, Cicily, it’s okay,” he says firmly, taking one of my hands and squeezing it in his own. “I guess… when you came, there was nothing else on my mind,” he says simply. “I completely forgot, and it just… didn’t seem important or anything.” He rubs my hand and kisses my nose. “So… are we okay?” He asks hopefully.

I consider it for a moment and nod my head furiously. “Yeah. Yes. I’m just… a little stressed, maybe,” I allow a little smile.

“Then why don’t we head to the pool?” He asks hopefully. “Let’s see you in that new bikini!”

Playfully gasping, I punch him in the stomach. “Pervert!”

“You love it,” he laughs, pulling me up and kissing me on the cheek. “Now get your bootie up and changed, you hear? I’ll put everything away real fast.”

“I can help,” I insist. “It doesn’t take that long to change, you know.”

“Are you sure?” He grins, glancing up.

Laughing, I throw the last chip at him. It bounces off his forehead and he shakes his head, chuckling. Elvis clambers up, eating the chip, and we trudge inside with our things before heading outside again, changed.