She had planned something really special for his birthday. He was turning 24 this year, and she didn't intend for it to pass without significance, especially after he'd gone to such effort for her 22nd. She was going to get him a stationary pool. He'd seen one in a magazine and had enthused about it; he loved the water so much. They didn't really have room in the back yard for a full sized pool, and in any case, the lake was just across the road, so it seemed really pointless to spend the money needlessly. She'd googled stationary pools on the internet, and had found a local dealer. Boone had had a building added to their property that they used as a personal gym. She'd determined that there was room in one corner for the pool. That the building had plumbing already was going to make installation all that much easier.
She worried that paying for it was going to be an issue. All their accounts were joint, and he did all the banking. She'd called the lawyer, and after swearing him to secrecy, explained her plan. She was relieved to find that there were several long term investments, that Boone had no reason to check on a regular basis, from which she could withdraw the necessary funds.
She was heading into the city that day, to conclude the purchase. She'd done all the preliminaries by phone and through e-mail. It hadn't been too hard for her to keep the secret from him. She'd had a lot of practice hiding the truth from him all their lives, so guarding her thoughts from him came naturally. She grabbed her leather jacket and headed into the kitchen to tell him she was leaving. "Boone, I'm on my way." She'd told him that Cindy had invited her to meet her at a store to take a look at the wedding dress she'd chosen. She'd called Cindy, who, after learning why she needed an excuse, agreed to cover for her.
He turned from the counter; he had a smudge of flour on his nose from the bread dough he was preparing. The vintage black Grateful Dead t-shirt he was wearing was covered with his hand prints. When he saw the jacket he frowned, "You're not thinking of taking your bike, are you?"
"No, I'm not thinking of it, I'm doing it," she'd already anticipated that he'd try and give her a hard time.
He cleaned his hands on a towel, "It's too far, we don't have that many hours in yet, you'll be alone; you'll get tired. Take the car, please?"
"I'll be fine, I've been alone before, if I get tired I'll pull over and stop for a bit, and how, exactly, do you expect me to get in more hours, if I don't ride it?" She made nonsense of his reasons.
He knew there was nothing he could say to dissuade her, and so he capitulated, "Okay. I don't like it, but okay. Just promise me that you'll be careful," knowing as he said it that he might as well be asking her to take up embroidery.
"When am I ever not?" she laughed and kissed him, "I'll be careful, I promise." she turned and left.
She thoroughly enjoyed the ride into the city, and tried her best to keep her speed not too much above the posted limit, remembering her promise to him. It irritated her that he felt he had the right to put restrictions on her. Just because she'd married him, didn't mean he owned her.
Arriving at the retailers', she checked her cell to see if she'd missed any calls. Predictably, he'd already called her twice. Jesus Christ, can't I have any friggin' time to myself, she thought? She was annoyed that he was trying to keep such close tabs on her. She knew in the back of her mind that he was just concerned, but her irritation over not having a minute to herself was overriding her rationality.
She thumbed the keypad, and waited for him to answer. "Shan?" he picked up on the first ring.
"Yeah, you psycho doofus, what the hell do you want, calling me twice?" she was still pissed at what she considered being treated like an incapable child.
"I…I just wanted to know if you were okay," he could tell from her tone and her words that somehow he'd screwed up, but he didn't know exactly how.
"I'm on a fucking motorcycle, you moron, how did you expect that I was going to answer the phone?" she held it away from her head and looked at it in irritation, as if he was standing right beside her.
"Oh…okay?" he was trying to minimize the damage that he'd unintentionally caused.
"Fuck off, Boone. I'll see you later, and don't call again," she hit "end" and angrily stuffed the phone back in her pocket. She was of half a mind to abandon her plans and just get on the bike and go home, it would serve him right if he got nothing for his birthday, but she knew she wasn't going to do that.
She entered the store and approached a sales guy. "Hi, I'm looking for Alan."
"That'd be me. Nice bike," he was looking over her shoulder.
"Yeah, it is. I'm Shannon Rutherford," she introduced herself.
He had all the paperwork ready; they'd already pretty much concluded the deal. All the components had been chosen, and the equipment list finalized, she just needed to sign for payment, and arrange for delivery. "You can deliver it August 23rd, right?"
"Let me check the schedule." He opened a file on the computer. "That day's already been booked."
"It has to be August 23rd, that's my husband's birthday, it's his birthday gift." She smiled her most winning smile at him, the one that always got her exactly what she wanted.
'Well, if it's Mr. Rutherford's birthday, then we'll just have to make it happen." he fell victim to her.
She started laughing, "Carlyle." She laughed harder, trying to get his name out as she pictured the look on Boone's face if he'd heard himself referred to as Mr. Rutherford.
"Excuse me." He didn't understand why she was laughing, when he'd just agreed to bump another customer's delivery in order to accommodate her.
"Carlyle, Boone Carlyle, not Rutherford," she explained.
She pulled out of the pool place and headed her bike back towards home. Suddenly, some asshat in a Buick pulled out intending to occupy the
same space of road she was already in. She quickly swerved the bike in order to avoid having him run into her. She looked over into the driver's window; the guy behind the wheel was completely oblivious to her presence. She raised her right foot and kicked the driver's side mirror, shattering the glass. He jumped at that and looked directly at her, seeing her for the first time. She lifted her hand from the throttle and raised her middle finger. Fucking asshole, she mouthed very deliberately, returning her hand to the grip, she roared away.
She was tired by the time she got home, it was a lot more effort that she'd thought; taking the bike the long ride into the city and back. She briefly considered that Boone might have been right in suggesting that she take the car instead, but she'd never, ever, let him know that. She rode up to the store; he'd been sitting on the steps, but stood as soon as she got near. "Shan," he breathed a sigh of relief, taking her helmet from her, he leaned in to kiss her.
She let him take the bike from her to put it away, and went into the house, sitting tiredly on the bench in the hall. He found her there a few minutes later, still dressed in her jacket and boots, her head tipped back against the wall, her eyes closed. Given how touchy she'd been with him that day, he carefully avoided the whole "I told you so" opportunity that her obvious exhaustion provided.
He crouched down to remove her boots for her. "Shannon, why is the toe of your right boot all cut up?"
"I don't know," she lied easily, thinking about the broken car mirror, guarding the thought from him.
"I hope you haven't been dragging your feet again, you know the instructor…" he started a lecture, getting cut off in mid sentence.
"Boone" she broke in, too tired to put up with one of his holier than thou moments, "I wasn't dragging my feet. Just shut the hell up and stop….stop, being you, just for once!"
"Fine," he said, standing, "take off your own boots, and if you want a drink the kitchen's that way." He waved his hand toward the back of the house and walked down the hall.
That didn't turn out the way I'd planned, she thought ruefully. Why are we having such a hard time connecting today, she wondered?
"Because you're being a bitch," he called back over his shoulder.
When he woke up on the Wednesday morning of his birthday, he wondered what she had planned for that day, if anything. Knowing Shannon, it wouldn't have been unlike her to have totally blown it off. He looked down at her head lying on his left shoulder; she was on her side, pressed up against him. He slid his right hand down her side, she stirred, the leg she had thrown over him moving up to his groin. She lifted her head to look at him. Smiling she asked, "Were you planning on getting a little birthday sex?"
"I was hoping," he slid his hand down her thigh, pressing it against himself gently.
"I'd hate to disappoint," she moved up to kiss him, and started to slide on to him.
"No, today's my day, we'll do it how I want," he pushed her onto her back and threw back the blankets so he could see all of her. When they were done in the bedroom they moved across the hall. In the shower, they did it again, standing under the spray of water, her legs hooked around his waist, her back against the tiles.
Toweling her off, he said regretfully, "We'd better get downstairs soon; otherwise Tom and Heather are going to send up a search party. We've both got work to do, whether it is my birthday or not."
The delivery truck arrived in the early afternoon. She dragged him out of the office, leading him to the driveway to see what she'd gotten him. She waited expectantly for his reaction. The look of pure joy on his face made her efforts worth all the trouble she'd gone to. Grinning like the doofus he was, he grabbed her and kissed her soundly, "I can't believe you did this. Holy shit, Shan, it's perfect I love it! Thanks!"
"You're welcome," she shook her head at him. "Look at you, grinning like an idiot."
"How soon are they coming to install it?" he couldn't wait to try it out.
"I thought you'd install it yourself," she answered.
"What?" he was sure he'd heard her wrong.
"I thought you'd install it yourself," she repeated. "It doesn't look that hard, just some pipes and wires."
"And just exactly where were you when I was growing up? Did you ever see me with tools in my hands?" he shook his head at her assumption.
"But you're a guy. I thought all guys, just knew how to do this stuff." She protested.
"Shannon, I can do a lot of stuff. I can balance a set of books, I can set a proper table, I can even kill a wild boar armed with nothing but a hunting knife, but I know absolutely nothing about plumbing!" He answered indignantly.
She couldn't keep the smile off her face. She'd arranged for the general contractor to come by the next day, and the pool guy for next week.
He shook his head at her as he realized she was playing him, "You bitch…you do this just to piss me off, don't you?"
"No, actually, I do it to amuse myself, brother dear," she laughed, leaning in to kiss him.
"Christ, I don't know if I love you more than I hate you at this moment," he shook his head at her.
"Why don't we go upstairs and find out?" she said, reaching for him.