“Dear God, you’re sexy,” he groaned. She knew he was watching her pleasure herself, and as usual, his attention stoked her fire.
“You’re the sexy one,” she said, sliding her fingers free.
He caught her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, sucking her cum from her fingers.
Now sated, at least for a little while, they cuddled beneath the covers and slept until well past checkout time.
“Where’s our next stop?” Eric asked as he started the van after lunch in a small town diner in Arkansas.
“Branson, Missouri. They say it’s the Las Vegas of the Midwest.”
“Have you ever been there?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“It wishes it was Las Vegas.” He laughed. “Not even close.”
“Do you want to go somewhere else instead?”
“Nope. I like Branson. Just don’t expect it to be like Vegas.”
She wasn’t sure what to expect from the little city in the Ozark Mountains—mountains that looked like large hills in comparison to the Sierra Nevadas and the southern peaks of the Rockies—so she was surprised by how charming she found Branson. The air was chilly, giving Branson an atmosphere different from the warmer desert towns. That night she could see her breath as they as they walked between Christmas-themed shops.
“We should get a Christmas tree,” she said, leaning into Eric’s arm and squeezing his hand. “We’ll be home just in time to put one up for the holidays.”
Eric stopped in front of a store displaying thousands of unique ornaments. “I always wanted to decorate a tree with ornaments that meant something—buy a new one each year to represent an important event that had happened that year so that in fifty years the tree would be completely covered with ornaments that showed the history of my life. But I never started collecting them.”
“Why not?”
“It’s depressing to do that kind of stuff by yourself.”
“But you’re not by yourself anymore,” she reminded him. “You have me. And I think it’s a neat idea. We should do that. Start a family tradition.”
“A family tradition?”
She squeezed his hand, knowing that he didn’t have any family traditions because he’d never had a family. It was one of the many reasons why she so wanted him to meet his grandparents in a few days.
“Our first of many,” she said with a bright smile. “We are a family, Eric. A small one right now, but one we’ll add to over the years. Just like our tree.” She tugged him into the shop. “Let’s start our ornament collection now.”
“I guess we can,” he said hesitantly, but his resistance faded quickly as the Christmas music inside the shop washed over them. “Little Drummer Boy”—how fitting.
So many wonderful things had happened to Rebekah that year that she had a difficult time deciding on a single ornament. She’d gotten her dream job as a soundboard operator for the hottest metal band on the planet. Defeated cancer. Found her perfect lover. Fallen in love with him. Traveled all over the country, gaining respect in her field. Restored a car. Gotten her first tattoo and started her second. And most important of all, she’d married the most wonderful man in the world. With all the changes in her life, she needed at least twenty ornaments to represent her year.
Eric didn’t struggle with his decision at all. He selected a three-dimensional heart-shaped ornament of red blown glass and held it up for her to see.
“This was the year I found my heart,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.
Was it possible to melt? As all of her muscles relaxed at once, she was pretty sure it had just happened to her.
“I can’t decide,” she said, examining all the ornaments on display, but nothing was speaking to her as the perfect choice. And then she spotted it—a black snare drum with a pair of sticks crossed over the white drumhead. “This one,” she said, lifting it to show him. “This was the year I found you, my little drummer boy.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Little?”
“Well…” she said with a shrug. She knew the compliment he was fishing for, but it was much more fun to tease him. “You do have big feet, I guess.”
“I’ll show you big feet.” He lifted one of said feet to nudge the back of her ankle.
“Already seen them, thanks.”
They purchased their ornaments and a tiny artificial, pre-lit Christmas tree, and hurried back to their hotel room to set it up. With only two ornaments on its branches, the tree looked both small and bare, but Rebekah knew that in a few years they’d have a huge tree with boughs overflowing with special decorations. Especially once they started bringing adopted children into their lives.
Eric and Rebekah filled their short stay in Branson with quiet moments in their hotel suite staring at their little Christmas tree, planning their future together, and filling their present with love. The more time she spent with Eric, the less important the past seemed to Rebekah. Maybe she was wrong to encourage Eric to stir up his broken childhood. Maybe their newly formed family would be enough for him going forward. Or maybe he needed closure to his past. Or maybe his grandparents would shower him with the love he deserved. They’d never know until he met them.
In Tennessee, they visited Graceland. Eric wore his Elvis costume and sang all of the pop icon’s hits as they toured the place. The other guests seemed amused by Eric’s antics. The staff, on the other hand, were definitely annoyed. Their tour was cut short when they were asked to leave after Eric gyrated his hips against the wrong security officer.
Continuing their trek east, they stopped in Nashville, enjoying a delicious dinner and catching a country western show at The Grand Ole Opry.
“Not enough drums in country music,” Eric said as they started walking back to the resort room she’d booked.
“I agree,” Rebekah said, wishing they’d opted for the shuttle ride to the hotel. The temperature had been mild that afternoon, but was now approaching freezing. “God, I’m cold.”
“If we get any further north, I’m going to have to dig out that parka and snow pants,” Eric complained, drawing her against his side for warmth.
“I just want some earmuffs,” Rebekah said. She blew into her hands, rubbed them together, and then cupped them over her frigid ears.
“We could be in Tahiti right now,” Eric reminded her.
“You’re not having fun?” He hadn’t brought up Tahiti for days.
“No.” He shook his head and then grinned ear to ear. “I’m having a blast.”
She smiled back. “Me too.”
“But I think I’d have more fun if we did this in June instead of December.”
“Well, if you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get married, we could have had a June wedding like normal people.”
“But we’re not normal,” he said. “Not even a little. So why bother pretending?”
When they left Nashville the next morning, they were forced to scrape frost off the windshield. They didn’t own an ice scraper and neither had ever used one. Luckily, the man parked beside them allowed Eric to borrow his and even showed him how this ice scraping stuff was done.
“What are a couple of kids from Southern California doing this far east in December?” the balding man asked as he waited for Eric to finish with the ice scraper. “Off to see family for the holidays?”
“Haven’t decided if we’ll make it that far yet,” Eric said, which earned him a strange look. “We’re on our honeymoon.”
“I saw that painted on the back of your van. Figured you just hadn’t gotten around to removing it yet.”
Eric handed the ice scraper back to the man. “Thanks for letting me use it. I guess we’d better invest in one of those if we’re going to…” He looked at Rebekah, who was rubbing her hands over her arms for warmth. “Where are we going next, honey?”
“Uh, Pittsburgh.”
“Pittsburgh?” the man said. “What’s in Pittsburgh?”
Rebekah shrugged. “We?
??ll figure that out when we get there.”
“I figured you were headed to Niagara Falls. Isn’t that where all the honeymooners go?”
Eric brightened and before he even opened his mouth, Rebekah knew they’d be making a detour to Niagara Falls.
“Let’s go there,” Eric said.
She smiled. “I’m game.”
“Congratulations on your marriage,” the man said in parting.
“Thanks!”
It was a long, long drive to Niagara Falls and they had this stuff up north called black ice, which made the roads treacherous and Eric proclaim their impending deaths on a recurring basis.
“You’re a great driver,” Rebekah told him over and over again, as if that would keep the VW’s tires from slipping. They were just outside of Buffalo when thick, fluffy flakes of snow began to fall.
Eric leaned forward in his seat to peer up at the gray sky. “We’ll never make it in this. Maybe we should find someplace to stop.”
“We’re almost there,” she said as she consulted her phone’s map. “Less than twenty miles.”
“Well, if we die, we’ll go together.”
“Stop saying we’re going to die. Look how beautiful it is.”
The large snowflakes quickly covered the dead grass along the side of the road and coated gnarled tree branches in a blanket of white. After gazing at a thousand miles worth of dormant vegetation, the snow appeared magical.
“Reminds me of the white sand beaches of Tahiti,” Eric said under his breath. “Except it’s deadly and it’s cold.”
“You’re the one who wanted to go to Niagara Falls.”
“It always looks warm there on the postcards!”
After paying a toll to cross a long steep bridge that had Rebekah clinging to the dashboard and praying to sweet baby Jesus, they found themselves in an expanse of wilderness. The emptiness seemed strange after having just skirted a city through an industrial zone.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Eric asked.
She consulted her navigation app again. “I’m sure. We’re right on course.”
As if trying to refute her claim, the minibus hit a patch of ice and fishtailed. Eric tried to keep them in their lane, but he overcorrected, sending them into a spin that made Rebekah’s stomach turn. Eventually they came to a halt with the back wheels off the side of the road and the windshield facing oncoming traffic.
“Are you okay?” Eric asked.
“Yeah.” She was pretty sure if she elaborated, she’d be sick.
“Well, that was fun.” He laughed.
Her eyes popped open wide. “Fun?”
“It felt like an amusement park ride.”
“I guess it wasn’t as bad as that crazy contraption at the top of the Stratosphere.” She’d felt closer to death then than she did now. “Are we stuck?” She peered out the window at the chaotic tire tracks they’d made in the fresh snow.
Eric shifted into first gear and tried to coax the vehicle out of the ditch. Both rear tires whirred noisily, kicking up plumes of snow as she watched in the side mirror.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get out and push,” he said.
“Me?”
“You know the minibus won’t run for you.”
Rebekah glared at him. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, his sarcasm thick. “I couldn’t wait to slide off into a ditch so I could make you get out and push.”
“That’s what I thought,” she grumbled. Still, she crammed her hands into her gloves and pulled on a stocking cap, zipped her coat up to her chin, and then braved the wintery outdoors. She could have sworn she heard Eric snigger when she slammed the door.
“Don’t stand behind the tires,” he called out of his open window. “I don’t want you to get hit by flying debris.”
“Your concern is touching,” she yelled angrily.
“Are you ready?”
She slapped both gloved palms on the back of the bus and put her weight behind her push. “Ready!”
The tires spun slowly, as if Eric were afraid to hurt her by gunning it, but she was pissed off enough to find uncommon strength. The wheels found a bit of traction and with a loud roar, the bus popped up onto the shoulder and halfway into an oncoming lane. Luckily, the road was deserted except for the enormous yellow snowplow headed directly for them.
“Oh shit!” she heard Eric yell as he directed the van onto the narrow shoulder.
Rebekah scrambled to duck behind the Volkswagen as the plow roared past, the giant blade scraping the asphalt and spraying snow and salt and debris all over their vehicle. Some rained down on Rebekah’s back as she crouched and covered her head with both arms, but most missed her entirely.
“Rebekah?” Eric’s door swung open and he jumped out. “Rebekah!”
“I’m fine.” She squeaked when he lifted her out of her huddle and into his arms for a mighty hug.
“I’m sorry I made you get out to push. We should have just called Triple A.”
“Too late now,” she said as he set her on her feet.
“I can’t believe you got us out of that ditch.” He nodded at the idling VW before swatting Rebekah on the butt. “My woman is badass.”
“And don’t you forget it,” she said, laughing as she circled the van and settled into her seat. Eric climbed in beside her, and she pointed to the road in the opposite direction. “Follow that snow plow.”
Once Eric got the vehicle turned around, they crawled along the deserted highway, Eric having learned his lesson about speed and slippery roads, and made it to their hotel without further mishap.
Their accommodations weren’t opulent, but she could see the fast-flowing Niagara River out their window. The falls weren’t visible from this vantage, however. Their location was situated behind the falls. Rebekah scrunched her brow at yet another disappointing view. She vowed to demand a good view when they got to Tahiti. This was her honeymoon, for heavens’ sake.
“I think we have to stay on the Canadian side to be able to see the falls from our hotel room,” she said.
“Canadians take all the good stuff,” Eric said, unzipping his coat and hanging it in the closet.
Including her brother’s ability to walk, she thought darkly. Though she knew the bus accident that had partially paralyzed Dave wasn’t Canada’s fault, she couldn’t help but feel the entire area was bad luck for her family. Technically, she was still in the United States, but she was close enough to the Canadian border that it had sent her and Eric flying off in a ditch.
“Why are you taking off your coat? I want to see the falls before it gets dark.” Seeing as it got dark around noon this far north—not really, but it sure felt that way to her—they probably had less than an hour to venture out.
“It’s cold out.”
“It’s not that bad. Just a few degrees below freezing.”
“And still snowing.”
“We should enjoy it while we can. I never get to see snow back home unless I go up into the mountains.”
“It’s cold out,” he said again. “And you promised you wouldn’t let me freeze my ass off.”
“You have snow pants,” she reminded him.
He huffed out a resigned sigh. “Fine.”
He bundled himself up as if he were going to climb Mt. Everest and the peak had magically been transported to the South Pole.
“You’re going to suffocate,” she warned as she wrapped a scarf around her neck.
“Vru zay tat dow,” came from somewhere in the layers covering his face.
“What?”
He tugged his mouth from its twenty layers of scarf. “You say that now.” Using thickly gloved hands, he fumbled with the scarf to cover his face again.
They ventured out into the twilight-lit park just across the street from their hotel. There were few others out braving the cold, but those who were gaped at the tall, bundled-up abomination who was holding her hand and walking like a pengu
in to keep from slipping. A cold, damp breeze blew through Rebekah’s jeans and she shivered. Perhaps Eric, in his ridiculous snowsuit, had the right idea after all.
The park stretched out in both directions where the path divided to follow the river. They followed a partially snow-covered sign to the falls. The mist churning up from the water clung to poles and benches, trash cans and lamps, making everything sparkle