Starlight (Peaches Monroe #2)(57)
Author: Mimi Strong

“Hmm.”

“The situation wasn’t healthy.”

“When did everyone move out?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“Not that long ago.”

I looked up, meeting his gaze. The look in his brown eyes confirmed what I thought: the void in Keith’s life had literally sucked me in to cork up the energy draining away. Yes, I was a girl-shaped cork. A rebound. And he was mine. And that was okay.

Keith pulled out his phone. “Too late to go to Anaheim today. I guess we’ll have to go tomorrow.”

I clapped my hands together, visions of princesses dancing through my head. “Disneyland? Are you for real? You would take me there?”

“You’ve never been, so I’m practically obligated to take you. I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t.”

I hugged him so hard, I nearly knocked him off the stool.

The funny thing is, I’d joked about going to Disneyland on my trip, but I hadn’t seriously considered going. I didn’t know I wanted to go so badly, until that moment. Like how I hadn’t wanted to be an underwear model until the opportunity came up. How many other things did I secretly desire and not even know?

CHAPTER 21

On Sunday morning, while regular tourists were still in their hotel rooms, adding non-dairy creamer to mugs of coffee made on dressers in those mini-carafes, Keith and I lined up outside Disneyland Park half an hour before the rope dropped.

As soon as we were admitted, Keith grabbed my hand and hauled me through the empty park toward Adventureland and the Indiana Jones Adventure.

The ride was thrilling and every bit as corny and fun as it looks in the ads. As I screamed at the mummies and the insects in the creepy Bug Room, I mulled over the question posed at the beginning of the ride. The temple deity had offered us one of three gifts: earthly riches, eternal youth, or seeing into the future.

When we disembarked at the end of the Indiana Jones Adventure ride, I asked Keith which of those things he’d choose.

“Eternal youth, of course,” he said. “The opportunities for models get slimmer with age.”

“Then you’d be a model forever.”

“I guess I would. A model with a big mansion and an amazing garden. I’d spend my downtime splitting plants and getting dirty.” We both laughed. “What about you?”

I had to think. Earthly riches, eternal youth, or seeing into the future.

“Not riches, because I’d rather earn them. Eternal youth… sounds good, but I wouldn’t want to have all my friends aging while I didn’t. I guess I’d pick the visions, because who wouldn’t want to see the future?”

“What if you could see the future, but it worked like TV, and you could only see one channel?” He pointed in one direction and started hauling me that way. “New Orleans Square. We’re going to hit the Pirates next.”

“Pirates are fun.” I skipped to catch up, glad I was wearing tennis shoes with a favorite outfit I’d brought from home: olive green cargo shorts and a ruffled pink blouse, which I think of as my Barbie-meets-G.I.Joe outfit.

Keith continued, “What if you can see the future, but just the weather? And only right where you are. Not even globally, so you can’t prevent human deaths from natural disasters.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re very unusual, Mr. Raven, guy-who-doesn’t-have-birthdays?”

He blushed. I’d seen him blush once or twice before, but not like this. He looked like he was trying to act natural, but failing.

Something was off. Something I’d said had triggered a reaction.

“Keith, is today your birthday?”

We kept walking, him looking around and waving at Disney characters.

If I remembered correctly, he prevented birthdays from happening by insisting on doing only regular-day things. Going to Disneyland didn’t fit the profile of regular-day things, not even for someone who lived nearby.

“Keith, squeeze my hand once if today is your twin sister’s birthday.”

He squeezed my hand.

We walked on in silence, until I said, “I’m honored that you’d choose to celebrate your birthday with me. And if anyone asks, I’ll lie and tell them we did boring everyday things.”

He stopped walking, stepping in front of me so we were face to face, him looking down into my eyes. The morning sun was behind his head, giving his dark hair a glow, like a halo.

Without a word, he leaned down and kissed me. The park had started filling up and people flowed all around us, and he kept kissing me. When he finally pulled away from me, he said, “You inspire me with your enthusiasm for life, and your honesty, and your passion. Peaches, you make me want to grow up. So, Happy Birthday to me. I couldn’t have picked a better way to spend today, and before you say it, oh, yes, there will be cake.”

“With ice cream,” I added, nodding. “Because someone was a bad boy on Thursday night and promised he’d pick up ice cream, but then he did not. Unforgivable.”

“I told you, the stores were all closed! Stupid Tabitha throwing my phone down a mountain. Tonight there will be both cake and ice cream.”

“Birthday candles? How many? Eleven?”

He grimaced.

“Okay, no candles,” I said, laughing. “Enough personal growth for today, right?”

He grabbed my hand and got us walking again. “Pirates! And then the Haunted Mansion. Oh, and Space Mountain.”

“It’s your birthday,” I said, smiling. “You get to pick everything, because it’s your day.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He got a big grin on his face that didn’t quit the whole day, and it was a long day. A very long day. We crossed over to Disney California Adventure at mid-day and crammed in as much as we could there.

As we toured the attractions and went on rides, I discovered that I did have the magical gift of being able to see the future, and it wasn’t limited to the weather. I could see returning there in a couple of years with my whole family, or maybe just me and Kyle.

Kyle, my baby.

Kyle came home a few days ahead of me, because the doctors weren’t sure about my mental state. I insisted I was completely fine for someone who’d eaten a whole pizza and gotten indigestion.

They told me I’d had a baby, and I rolled over and stopped talking. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking, because those thoughts are scribbled out in my head to this day, probably to protect myself.

Finally, I told the doctors I’d known I was pregnant, and I’d kept meaning to come into the hospital for pre-natal care, but I’d been scared and pushed it off one day at a time. They bought the story. I told it so many times, I started to believe it myself, these new lies overwriting my actual memories with every re-playing.