When August Ends

“Hey, little guys.”

“We still have to name the babies.” Heather was suddenly in tears.

She’d been pretty good about not losing it lately. I think she was just happy to have me home.

She rubbed my back. “Feels good to be home, huh?”

“It does, but mostly because you’re with me. I couldn’t imagine walking in here alone after all this.”

We lay together on the couch for a while. I had a lot on my mind that I needed to let out. I hoped she didn’t think I was crazy after what I was about to propose.

I took a deep breath. “Everything I thought I knew about how life is supposed to work has gone out the window,” I told her. “I never realized how fast things can change. I pushed you away because I thought that’s what was right for you. But if I’d died on that operating table, I would have thrown away the only time we’d ever have together—those months you were in Vermont.”

She moved to straddle me. “Don’t think about the what-ifs right now.”

“I have to, only because it’s related to what I’m about to say.”

She kissed my nose. “Okay.”

“I didn’t go with my gut when I left you back in New Hampshire. If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. Leaving you never felt right. I thought the way for you to live your best life was to experience it apart from me, but maybe it should have been with me. Maybe things don’t always have to be by the book. Maybe we need to go by what feels right.”

“I never had any doubt that I belong where you are.”

“I know you didn’t.” I caressed her cheek. “I’ve had a lot of time to think while stuck in that hospital. I asked myself, what would I want if I knew my time was limited? Because it very well could be. Aneurysm or not, none of us knows for sure if we’re guaranteed a lot of time on this Earth. I decided what I want more than anything is to travel the world with you. I want to show you some of the places I’ve been, experience them again with you, and then discover new places together. Maybe it’s not college in Vermont you need. Maybe traveling with me is how you can sow your oats.”

“Wha—” Heather began.

But I forged ahead. “When I was lying there, recovering in that bed, I realized I haven’t done nearly all of the things I want to do. And I’ve lived a pretty good life. In the end, all we have are memories. I don’t have nearly enough memories with you. I want to make some. What do you say? Will you go on an adventure with me?”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean…how can we afford it?”

“I made some smart investments in my twenties. I have a lot saved up—probably at least fifty grand to play with before I’d even feel a dent. We can set a financial limit and stop when we’ve reached it. Then we’ll come back, and you can enroll in school here, if that’s what you want.” I tried to read her expression. “If you think it’s too reckless, we don’t have to—”

“This sounds like a dream. I just can’t believe it’s an option.”

“It’s very much an option. And I hope you’ll say yes.”

After several seconds of silence, she said, “I would love to travel with you. The answer is yes!”

It felt like my heart was doing cartwheels. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Let’s make some memories.”

***

Despite our excitement about our plans to travel the world, we had to be patient. Only after three months of follow-up visits did my doctor finally clear me for travel. Thanks to my father, who agreed to let us move the guinea pigs into his house for the months we would be away, we didn’t have to worry about them.

The wait was worth it as I found myself looking out at the Grand Canyon from our rented van, parked at the spot we’d booked on the south rim side.

We were spending a week here before flying to Australia. We figured since we’d be flying toward the West Coast anyway, why not spend some time out here? Heather considered this another good exposure exercise for her fear of heights, too. Living out of the converted van allowed us to save funds for some of the more expensive parts of our journey to come.

This week our days had started early. Heather and I woke before the sun came up, because that offered the best lighting for the photos I’d been taking. We were documenting this entire trip and had dubbed it Heather and Noah Do the World. Heather had actually started a blog for it, and she was having a blast creating the posts. She’d brought along the Merry Wanderer Hummel I’d bought her for her twenty-first birthday, and she took photos of it in all different locations. I’d never imagined how prophetic that figurine would be.

After our morning photos, we’d cook some breakfast on a small grill before deciding what we wanted to explore that day.

Right now, we watched the reddish-orange sunset over the canyon as we lay in the van after a post-hike, late-afternoon nap. This was definitely the life.

I curled into her body. “Is it wrong that all I’ve wanted to do this week is look out at this view, eat, and fuck you? And then eat you?”

She rubbed her hand across my chest. “Do you see me complaining?”

I’d always been hot for Heather, but since my health crisis, I was completely insatiable. Having that brush with death made me want to feel everything all the time. And there was nothing I enjoyed feeling more than my gorgeous girlfriend. I couldn’t get enough of her. I didn’t remember when they said men reached their sexual peak, but mine was clearly thirty-five.

As if the day couldn’t get any better, Heather slid down and pulled my cargo shorts along with her. My rock-hard dick bobbed as she took me into her mouth and did one of my favorite things. She began to rub her clit while sucking me off hands-free.

“Shit,” I hissed. “You give the best head.”

She really did, and she seemed to enjoy it as much as I did, which got me off even more.

Balls-deep down her throat, I threaded my fingers through her hair and enjoyed every second. My cock was lathered in precum as she went to town on me while continuing to massage herself. It didn’t take long for me to lose it.

I held onto the back of her head and fucked her mouth harder as I came down her throat while she orgasmed.

Several minutes passed as we lay there, sated, a dry breeze blowing into the open van.

“How did I get so lucky that my girlfriend loves to go down on me?” I asked, pulling her up for a kiss.

She smiled.

“I tried,” I told her. “I really tried. I just couldn’t live without you—your fucking weird taste in music and all. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. And shit, you just reminded me of something.”

“What?”

She sighed. “When you weren’t fully conscious after the surgery, I promised that if you got better, I would let you listen to every song on my phone.”

That cracked me up. “Are you serious? You vowed never to do that.”

“I know. But now I feel like I have to. If I don’t honor it, it’s like an insult to the universe that granted me my wish. You don’t have to take me up on it, though.”

“Are you kidding?” I bolted up and held out my palm. “Hand that fucking thing over. Pretty sure it’s the true reason for my incredible will to live.”

I laughed. “You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“That’s the point!”

She reached into her backpack and pulled it out. She braced herself as I took the phone from her hand.

She was already embarrassed, and I hadn’t even pressed play yet. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Give me one side of the headphones,” she said. “I need to hear what you’re listening to.”

Handing her the left earbud, I put the right one in my ear and hit shuffle.

The first song was “Barbie Girl” by Aqua.

“Barbie Girl? Really?”

“Yes. And don’t forget, you promised to be good.”

After letting it play for about thirty seconds, I moved to the next song. As expected, many of the tunes in Heather’s collection were one-hit wonders from well before her time in the late eighties and nineties.

A few songs in, I actually found one of my old favorites: “Sign Your Name” by Terence Trent D’Arby.

“Hey, I like this one. Good choice. Great song!”

The next two in a row seemed to match. “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin and Gerardo’s “Rico Suave.”

“You have a thing for Latin men?” I teased.

She rolled her eyes, probably just wanting this to be over, and remained quiet as I continued to plow through her library.

Next up was the theme song from Friends, “I’ll Be There For You” by The Rembrandts. That one was tolerable enough to sit through.

I got all excited when I heard the beginning of “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Fuck yeah! But my hope was squelched when I realized it wasn’t Nirvana at all. It was Weird Al Yankovic: “Smells Like Nirvana.”

“Oh, hell no.” I laughed.

Heather started laughing.

“I’m crying uncle.” I handed her back the phone and tickled her. “You’re lucky I love you.”