The Event

– The event lasted twelve years, and it was an event in many ways. A daily event. Waking together in each other’s arms. At first, anyways. Then it slowly became a different kind of event. It brought other events. The first lasting ten years so far, a beautiful little girl. The other, six years so far, a gracious little boy. These too were daily events, beautiful events that made the event so much more, at first. Then, maybe they had a negative effect. Maybe she missed the undivided attention. Maybe it made the event more beautiful than she had ever imagined it could be, and she grew scared it would end. Or, maybe, she grew tired of beautiful events.
There was a smile on her face when he approached her it wasn’t there before he approached, at the beginning of the event. This is how it started. There was coffee involved, in a big container, the kind they set out for events. There was hot chocolate too. He had hot chocolate. She was standing at the other end of the table, next to the coffee. He thought he recognized her. He approached. She smiled. The smile was instantaneous. She’d seen him before, she said, somewhere. They talked. It was morning, early. They stood there ‘til the shadows disappeared. She smiled the whole time. He laughed several times; so did she. He smiled too, but only in between the silences.
Then there was an event. Not the event, but the first of what were the weekly events that lead to the event. A place with water and sand, the light dying on the horizon. They walked along the crashing waves. She giggled. It reminded her of being a little girl. He smiled. The whole time she giggled, he smiled. Somewhere in there, they held hands. It was the first time their hands touched. At that point, they both giggled. There was laughter, later, when their noses touched. They almost kissed, but when their noses touched there was laughter. When the laughter died, they both smiled. Through the smiles there were words, lit by the moonlight. Their hands were still together. The moonlight bounced off their words and their hands.
A week passed before they saw each other again. He had wanted to see her. She had wanted to see him. It was a matter of classes, work and schedules. Recovering from their time together also. This time, there was concrete under their feet, buzzing neon signs and advertisements. It didn’t matter. They didn’t see it. They only saw each other. Again, there was coffee involved. They sat in a cave of a coffee shop. They each had venti’s. By the end of the night, they were still half full. Their hands touched again. This time, no giggles. They just smiled. Words, again through smiling faces, laughter always followed, then. The night disappeared. The laughter and the words faded. There was silence, between them, an intrinsic peace. Their hands tightened around each other’s. She leaned onto his shoulder. An unseen smile. Her’s. His. Their faces inches from each other. With eyes closed, their lips touched. Amazing.
It was three days later. He found his way to her doorstep. She smiled. There was an embrace. Neither wanted to let go. It was a cold day. Their hands touched. They warmed each other. There were words, as they walked. Some swept off by the wind and never heard. But they understood. Even without the stolen words. They sat down. Some tables near a shop with ice cream cones on the windows. They had ice cream. On that cold day, with ice cream between them, they both smiled. Their hands still, together. There was laughter too. The words between them weren’t spoken. But there was laughter because of the words between them. Then there was silence. That peace was always with them. He dabbed the ice cream from her chin with a napkin. She giggled. He was overcome by a smile. He now loved her giggle. She kept giggling. He was smiling so wide, she couldn’t help it. There was no more ice cream. Their faces were inches apart again. They almost kissed, but their noses touched. There was no laughter, but their noses touched. They just stood still, their noses touching. Their eyes fixed on each other’s eyes. There was an unseen smile. They did not see it in each other, but they felt it. Their hearts swelled. The sun fell before they moved. When it had fallen, they got up and walked back. Their hands weren’t touching on the walk back. She was in his arms, and she had her arm around him. They walked a little slower. They shared the same space, so they walked a little slower. They found themselves back at her doorstep. It had all begun on her doorstep. She opened the door and peered inside, then looked at him. There was an embrace. Then their lips touched. Minutes passed and their lips were still touching, then another embrace. They both knew where this was going. Then she stepped inside.
Weeks went by, with weekly events between them. A year passed. They were driving. South somewhere. He stopped. A rest stop. Miles from anywhere. She smiled. She was curious. Their hands stopped touching. He stepped out of the car. She watched him. He opened her door. He offered his hand. She took it. He took the lead. She followed. Their hands touching. There was a hill. They climbed it. The ocean looked green. She giggled. He smiled. There was an embrace. It was a cold day. There was a breeze. She closed her eyes. It was his embrace that warmed her. And she closed her eyes. She felt a little colder. She opened her eyes. He was down on one knee. She giggled. She saw the ring. Her face lit up. She fell to her knees. There was an embrace. There lips touched many times. There were headlights. It was the headlights that ended their embrace. They were both smiling. There was a little giggling. They were wide smiles. They created warmth between them. They sat in the car. Their lips touching. Looking out at the green water. They were happy. Their hands were touching.
It was an event that created the event. It was small. They wanted small. A garden. Flowers. Wine. Family. Friends. She wore a white dress. Her mother made it. It was special. He bought a tux. He wanted to keep it. A reminder. They had never smiled more. It was a nice day. It was warm. There were words and laughter, smiles. She giggled, after the first time their lips touched at the altar. They touched several times. Everyone applauded. They saw something between them. Something special. They were happy. Her friends said she had never been so. His best friend said she was the best thing to have ever happened to him. They both just smiled. They danced. They walked around. Their hands touching. They greeted family and friends. They thanked them for coming. They shared cake. He dabbed some on her nose. His lips touched her nose. She giggled. Their lips touched. There was an embrace, then the last of many pictures. Then they left. Together.
They didn’t change. He wore his tux. She wore the white dress. They wanted others to know. On the airplane, then they changed. They slept. Their hands touching. They lost themselves. Together. The white sands. The clear water. Long nights. Days filled with each other. It was heaven. That’s what she said. He said it too. He bought her flowers every morning. She’d wake, every morning, to a dozen fresh roses. At first she’d giggle. Sometimes she’d laugh. She’d sit there. Amazed. He’d watch her. He’d smile. His eyes. Amazed. Their lips would touch. There’d be embraces. They never wanted to let go. They’d sit there, with the roses, arms around each other, sometimes for hours, that beautiful peace, that wonderful warmth. Inside. They were in love.
After a month, of heaven with each other, they returned home. She had her job. He had his. They smiled more at work. Everyone congratulated them. Even those that didn’t know about their event saw them happy. Happiness; is always meant to be congratulated. Those were long days for them. Even though they smiled much. The biggest smile of their day was always in returning home to each other. Those were their happiest moments. The moments spent with each other. They’d go out with friends sometimes. But, they preferred their time alone, with each other. There were still long embraces. In the dark in their living room they’d sit for hours. In each other’s warmth. In their nights, they became one. And they’d wake in each other’s arms. Unseen smiles in their sleep. Mornings, he’d pick flowers. She still woke to a fresh bouquet. She still sat there. Every morning. Amazed. He watched her, in the mornings. Amazed. They explored the city, on their own. Together. They visited every place they had never been to. Every place they had never been to, together. Their heaven had not stayed behind. They had brought it with them on the airplane. They lived it, as they lived it that month, for years here.
Then the event; brought them another event. A beautiful event. It took nine months. It was worth the wait, she said. She was beautiful. They both cried as they held her. They were tears of joy. The event had become more beautiful. They both smiled as they cried. They named her. She had a name and he had a name. So their baby girl received two names. She wasn’t working. So he worked more. It was hard on him, but he couldn’t be happier. His two girls, he thought. His happiest moment was always coming home. They’d greet him and his heart would swell. Their moments alone changed. They were now less alone. But they were happy. When she’d wake crying in the middle of the night, in her crib. He’d get up with her. They’d both go and make sure she was all right. Together, they’d watch their baby girl sleep. It was then. In the early hours of morning, they’d find the time to be alone. It was something beautiful. They were tired. In each other’s arms. They’d fall asleep. Sitting. It was during this time that the flowers started disappearing. He had no time to pick them for her. That didn’t matter. She understood. He always got up with her. That made her smile. When he was away. She could still feel the impression of his arms around her. Even, as she held their baby girl. All three of them were happy. He worked a lot. But they still had their moments, and they had their baby girl.
The years went by. Their baby girl grew. She was now, a little girl. He was promoted. He worked longer hours. She went back to work. Their time was short. Their moments were less. Their little girl would pick flowers. She’d hand them to her father when he got home. She enjoyed the smile on her mother’s face when he’d hand them to her. She was always home before them. She knew the ritual. It made her smile. Both of them, he and their daughter, wanted to make her happy. The weeks seemed long. But she was happy. He was happy, and their daughter smiled. His favorite part of the day was coming home. His heart still swelled. He’d get home. Accept the flowers. Pick up their daughter. They’d walk to her mother. Hand her the flowers. He’d kiss her. In front of their daughter, she always giggled. They’d laugh. Their moments had changed. They now included three. It was something wonderful. When they had moments for two, it was late in the night, sometimes early in the morning. They cherished those moments. They always smiled a little wider in the mornings, the mornings after the moments for two. Their daughter noticed and it made her happy. She’d go off to school with a smile. Feeling loved by the two people she loved most.
Then the event brought another event to them, to all three of them. Again, it took nine months. Their daughter played big sister, even during those months. She’d rub her mother’s belly. She could feel the life inside. It made her giggle wildly. She stopped picking flowers. When her father got home, the first thing he could hear was her giggling. It made his heart swell. He’d enter the house. Their daughter and her mother would be sitting in the living room. She would be giggling wildly, her mother laughing. He’d embrace them all, their daughter, her mother and her belly. Those were sweet moments, as they prepared for moments for four. Then it happened. A baby boy was born. His father had a name for him, and he gave it to him. They let their daughter choose the second name. He had just been born. She already loved her baby brother, very much. The event and the event it brought were both a little more beautiful. Now when there was a cry in the house, in the middle of the night. It was the three of them waking. The three of them watching the baby sleep. Their little girl would always fall asleep on their laps, as they sat in the dark. Their hands touching. Their little girl asleep on their laps; swells in their hearts, all of them. An unseen smile, their little girl. They felt it. They all lost themselves. Together. Two weeks. Clear water and white sands. Their little girl, it’s heaven, she said. They smiled. She giggled.
They returned home. He picked flowers. Over time they had become sparse. Mother’s Day. Valentine’s. Her birthday. Sometimes, once a month, just because. She stopped working. He worked late hours. Many overtime hours. He didn’t like being away. There was no way to help it. She stayed with the children. She was happy. When he thought of his girls, of their son, he was happy. They’d all be asleep when he got home. Their moments together became less. He’d crawl into bed, quietly. Fall asleep quickly to not wake her. He couldn’t resist touching his lips to her cheek, gently. She never woke in those nights, but she felt it. He knew it had been a long day. He’d write her notes in the morning. They were all still asleep. Telling her, he loved her. She’d reciprocate. Leaving notes on his pillow, before she’d fall asleep. Over time, they became less. She grew weary, so did he. Then they’d just fall asleep. They still had moments, on weekends. Family outings. The park. The zoo. They were less. Sometimes cloudy. But from time to time, they’d catch each other smiling, their children giggling in the background. Their lips touched less often. He knew her cheek well. But she no longer felt it. No more unseen smiles, in her sleep.
He had a business trip. Out of town. He was gone for four days. Their children missed their father. They missed him more because he missed a weekend. She took them out. They went to the beach. Green waters. It was different. They were playing. They giggled. She smiled more, than she had in awhile. She was happy. This isn’t so bad, she thought. He worked late all four days. He called home before they’d fall asleep. They were short conversations. He loved to hear their children laughing. She never smiled, during anyone of those calls. Not at him, but because their children laughed. He met up with a friend. She lived out of town, the same city where he was working. They had dinner. Drinks. They talked. He told her about his life, about the wonderful moments, in the past, almost twelve years. His friend smiled much she was drawn to the sincerity. She herself had never had such an event, or the events that such an event brings. She loved the stories. She could sense it was a little cloudy, now. He was a little tipsy. She couldn’t help it. She tried to kiss him. He backed away. He couldn’t. He didn’t let it happen. And he left. He called home, right after. He heard her voice on the other end. Something inside him, his heart swelled. She passed the phone to the kids. His heart sank. He regained his strength, in hearing the children’s voices. He smiled much at their laughter. The next day he was home.
Shortly after his arrival, she left. She took the children with her. He never unpacked his bags. The giggling, the laughter, and the smiles are now gone. The event lasted twelve years. He works fewer hours now. He feels it matters a little less. He spends his evenings staring at the green water. Alone.