The next day, Derek and I made every effort to do most things a San Franciscan would; we travelled by tram down the main street; ate corn dogs at the lookouts and even did a day trip to the markets. At lunch, however, we relaxed on a picnic rug in a small secluded area that overlooked the Golden Gate Bridge; while it was no view compared to our penthouse, it certainly made lunch romantic.
I looked ahead; taking each breath slow and steady. The smells that surrounded me were pertinently different to Seattle; the haziness of the city didn't seem to captivate my sense of smell and I felt as though the air was clearer. For me, however, the sights were so much more different – the water seemed bluer as I fixed my gaze on the rippled lake that stretched before us, running directly under the bridge. I looked back at the city which was nestled quietly behind the bushland that stretched behind us. San Francisco was seemingly peaceful than the hustle bustle of Seattle that I had become so accustomed to. It was almost similar to Boston in some ways; home hearted people with very standard living; nothing too exuberant compared to the sleepless lifestyle of Seattle.
"I could live here…" I let those words slip from the silence of my mind, to the vocal of my words.
Derek smiled and kissed my shoulder as he sat down behind me and lifted his knees to support my sides. I rested the back of my head on his chest and ran my hands over the tops of his thighs as they sat either side of me.
"We can come back anytime Mer…" he whispered.
I breathed in a deep sigh.
"But it isn't home…"
Derek shook his head.
"No honey, it isn't home…" he agreed.
As much as the smells and silence captivated my senses, I couldn't shake the unease that I felt from being so far away from home. When I was at home I felt comforted by the smells and sounds. The sounds of Charlotte playing in her rooms with her dolls was something that I distinctly remembered at that moment; she usually sits in the middle of her floor on top of the white shaggy rug, making lives for her dolls in a huge dollhouse that Izzie and I found at a vintage store. In there, she talks in different voices, making conversation between the dolls and building relationships like no adult could sometimes manage. The smells of home were starting to return as I recalled these sounds; as I walk through the door, I am usually greeted with the lemon fresh scent of the floors being mopped by Izzie; a scent that comforted me, with the knowledge that I didn't have to clean the house. The lounge room was usually spotless with the occasional magazine flicked open to interior decorating, or motorbikes, depending if it was read by Izzie or Derek, dolls were sometimes sitting on the lounge wrapped in blankets if Charlotte had been watching TV while she was playing. The kitchen…oh the smells I loved the most; it was always something different, cookies and cakes or even icing that was freshly spread across her baking, and more so, the smell of rosemary that accompanied every dish of Izzie's. In that moment I breathed in the smell as if I was there, whilst letting a tear slide down my cheek.
Derek took my shoulders and gripped them lightly, his skin soft on my bare shoulders as they ran up and down my arms.
"I miss home…" I whispered.
Derek chuckled as I threw him a dirty, tearful look.
"Oh honey," Derek kissed my tears away from my cheeks. "It's just you were only saying a second ago how you could live here, and last night you didn't know if you could leave here…"
I frowned and folded my arms.
"I just miss my daughter…" I started to cry. "Is that such a crime?"
Derek smiled lovingly.
"No sweetheart, it isn't," he said kissing me once more. "You miss your bed and your home that makes you who you are…"
I nodded.
"I just want to see Charlie…" I told him.
Derek looked at me, his eyes looking strained and tearful.
"Me too…" he sighed pulling me close and breathing in the scents of my hair, which to him were more home than any house. For him, it was coming into the bed at night and reaching under the covers to hold me close. To him, I was always warm regardless of the temperature outside, serving as his own personal heater, keeping him comfortable at night. He once told me that sleeping alone was the most hellish ordeal and it usually resulted in no sleep at all. The lavender scent drove him crazy; I could never sneak up behind him as my hair always gave me away but that didn't worry me, I loved knowing that I made him feel home from something as simple as the smell of lavender.
He tilted my chin to look at him.
"We go home first thing tomorrow, okay," he smiled. "Now let's try our best to make the most of it; we'll finish our lunch, go back and have a rest and then we'll go out for dinner…"
"And for dessert?" I smiled cheekily.
"I guess we'll have to make our own…" Derek answered with a low tone that edged its way into my ear, sitting on the tip of his lips.
His lips…
I couldn't help but whip around and take his lips on mine, breathing heavily as I searched for more than a kiss. I rummaged my hands over his chest, grabbing the material and pulling it back so that he, too, fell back down onto the rug; his body covered mine as we kissed.
"Oh dear, they're like us…" an old voice sounded close by.
I opened my eyes to catch the glimpse of an older couple. Instinctively I shoved Derek off me and sat up, my cheeks colouring pink.
"Very sweet…" the lady commented before her and the man walked away.
I chuckled as Derek sat up; I breathed a sigh of contentment as I watched them walk away hand in hand.
"I hope we're like that…" I smiled.
"We will be…" he promised.
I stood up and grabbed his hand to pull him up as well.
"Ready to go home?" I asked.
Derek nodded.
"Okay," he answered.
We entered the elevator and I couldn't help but grab him to kiss him.
"I love you…" I murmured against his lips as I let my hands fall below his waistline, feeling him hardening at my touch.
"I love you too…" Derek said between kisses. "But honey…we can't…not here…"
I laughed as I opened his belt buckle.
"It's never stopped us before…" I smiled seductively.
The elevator dinged at our door and opened to our suite.
I didn't allow much time for Derek to open the door as I was growing more and more impatient. I needed him right then and there; the cracks of the doors opened and I shoved him through, crashing into the wall with my back, I felt his hands travel up my spine in search of my bra clasp.
In that moment I had never felt crazier.
Craziness was running at a height back in Seattle that night as George and Charlotte were both getting up to no good in the living room. George had raided the linen closet for sheets and was teaching Charlotte the camping basics. He had built a tent from the chairs and lamp posts and was proceeding to make a pretend campfire; what weren't pretend, however, were the marshmallows on sticks in the living room.
"Charlie, do you want more marshmallows?" George asked going into the kitchen.
"Yep!" Charlotte was completely hyped out on sugar. "Some more for teddy and Lolly Doll!"
Lolly Doll was Charlotte's new doll that never left her side.
George chuckled, but his laughter was short lived when he heard the jingle of keys in the door.
"Crap!" he exclaimed running into the living room with his hands full of marshmallows and cookies.
"Holy mother of destruction!" Izzie exclaimed.
George looked innocently.
"I was teaching Charlie how to go camping…" he said.
Izzie couldn't believe her eyes.
"Aunty Izzie!" Charlotte said happily running over to Izzie and hugging her legs tightly. "We are sleeping in the tent tonight, it's our home!"
Izzie laughed.
"Oh dear," she put her hand to her forehead.
That night, Charlotte and Izzie fell asleep next to George.
"Iz…" he whispered in Izzie's ear.
She stirred.
"We'll take her up to bed…" he scooped Charlotte into his arms and carried her into her bed. As he fitted the blanket securely around her, he slipped her teddy and doll under the covers with her. "Good night beautiful princess,"
Charlotte opened her eyes slightly.
"Thank you for my tent Uncle George…" she said before drifting off to sleep.