"Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."
- Mark Twain.
Time had aged her in the most graceful and beautiful of ways. In such a way that Cody Jackson found that he wouldn't change a thing about her. Her countenance is just as beautiful as to him now as it was when he was sixteen, living in a foster facility and still falling head over heels in love with her. His sweet Melissa turned fifty years old today. Her cheeks have softened; they're a bit ruddier with a barest hints of a cherry flush blossoming along the age softened line of her cheekbones. Her almond-shaped brown eyes are still dark, sparkling with the same vibrance he had seen in them thirty-four years ago when they were still sixteen. When her plump mouth curved upward into the mega-watt smile he looked forward to seeing on a daily basis, laugh-lines crinkle the corners and mark years of sharing blissful laughter with her husband. Her once waist length hair has been cut off to a more manageable length. A soft, layered cut that fell just below her shoulder blades, the shorter layers framing her face, flirty curls bouncing against her shoulders when she moved.
Her skin is still beautiful, her olive complexion remaining even as she aged, even as the sleek smoothness of her graceful limbs has become prone to the aging process. Her hip bones are less prominent, her figure filling out nicely into an hour-glass figure; the tender bell shape of her hips curving upward into a slender waist and a flat stomach. The years she had spent in the throes of pregnancy and motherhood have been kind to her. Her curvier, softer figure was preferred to the stick-thin shape that most women revered. His arms fit around her more comfortably when she was curvier and the softness of her body had been the source of a great deal of pleasure for him.
She's perched on the porch swing that overlooked their front yard, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the chill of an unusually cold autumn night in California. He poured two glasses of red wine and carried them outside along with the bottle; "Hey Sweetheart."
Her brown eyes sparkle and her lips curve upward in a beautiful smile that never failed to knock him breathless. She raised the blanket and patted the seat behind her on the swing, motioning for him to join her. She took the glass of red wine from his hand and waited for him to sit down before curling into his side and wrapping the blanket around both of them. He smiled as the familiar scent of his wife and the warmth of the blanket surrounded him. It was these few moments of serenity that they had both come to appreciate as they reached ages where chasing children and running a chaotic household was no longer something they worried with.
"I'm getting old, Jack." Melissa rested her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. The wine glass rested on her thigh, held in place by her hand with her other arm curled around his.
Jackson just laughed softly, clearly amused and raised the glass to his lips, taking a sip of his own wine before looking down at his wife. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head; "Oh my Sweet Melissa, you are not getting old."
"I'm fifty today, dearest." Melissa reminded him, slipping her arm around his abdomen.
"I was fifty four months ago, Sweetheart." Jackson retorted, pressing another kiss into the top of her head. "Age is all perspective, Bella."
"Perspective?" Melissa inquired, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.
"Tell me, Bella, do you feel old?" Jackson stared down at his wife, smiling when she hesitated for only a moment before shaking her head. He tightened his hold on her and took a sip of wine, his eyes sweeping out over the beautifully landscaped yard. "Then, if you don't feel old why do you say you are getting old?"
"Because I am."
"Fifty is only a number, my Sweet Melissa." Jackson reminded her, taking another sip of his wine. "Only a number."
"I guess." Melissa shrugged, sipping her own wine.
"Look at all you've accomplished, Bella." Jackson murmured tenderly, resting his head against hers. "You have thirty commissioned paintings."
A reflective smile illuminated Melissa's face, only accentuated by the soft golden glow of the rapidly setting sun. Her paintings had given Melissa quite a reputation in the world of artistry and often times, museums and charity auctions would commission her pieces to display and often times sell for large sums. While she did usually choose to sell her paintings to charity auctions, several reputable museums currently owned and displayed a few of her pieces. People were drawn the vibrancy and the cheerfulness of her paintings; the feeling of peace and of happiness that her paintings gave.
"That's nothing." Melissa couldn't help the scarlett flush that blossomed on her cheeks and down her neck.
"Nothing? Sweetheart, thirty commissioned paintings is a lot for a woman with two kids." Jackson chuckled at his wife's incredible modesty. "Don't be modest, Sweet Melissa."
"Says the one with the most reputable foster facility for teenagers this side of L.A." Melissa shot back, craning her neck to his kiss his cheek. "Don't be modest, my dear."
"Touchè." Jackson tipped his glass toward her, conceding her point.
"I don't know, Jack." Melissa sighed, still not quite content with her older age. "I just feel like even with all that I've accomplished, it just makes me seem older."
"Older, how?"
"I'm fifty years old. We've raised two kids. I have more paintings in commission than I ever thought I would when I took up the hobby and we've already been married for twenty-six years." Melissa listed everything that she had accomplished both with him and on her own. "I feel like I've already lived an entire lifetime."
"Because that's how long it takes most people to accomplish everything that you've accomplished." Jackson pointed out, absently stroking her hair. "That doesn't make you old, my dear, that just makes you accomplished and determined. If you hadn't been so determined, do you think you'd be where you are right now?"
"Probably not." Melissa shook her head, curling closer to her husband.
"If you weren't so determined, we probably wouldn't be sitting here." Jackson tightened his hold on his wife. "You're a strong, passionate, determined woman. One of the many reasons I fell in love with you."
"Oh really?" Melissa grinned coyly at him. "What were the other reasons?"
"Oh we'd be here all night, Bella." Jackson laughed, meeting her eyes. "I fall in love with you all over again everyday. I see parts of you in our children. I see you in Alex's eyes and the way he carries himself with such confidence. I see you in Luci's personality. The hot tempered little girl with the heart of gold. I see the little piece of yourself you put in every one of your paintings."
"Jack - "
"My Sweet Melissa," Jackson interrupted, wanting to finish. "When I look at you, your age is not what I see. I see a woman who has been through hell and come out stronger. I see everything that made me fall in love with you. I don't see someone who's fifty. I see someone who's lived her life without caring what others thing. I see the passion and the determination that makes you who are. I see the beautiful woman that I fell in love with when I was just sixteen."
"Sixteen, eh?" Melissa smiled, already knowing his answer.
"Sixteen." Jackson affirmed tenderly. "There was no exact time but I remember you showing up on the night of your sixteenth birthday. Your hair was a mess, you weren't wearing shoes or a jacket despite the cold, your dress was torn and you brought me some birthday cake. I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. I knew then that I was in love with you."
"The night I knew my parents were getting divorced is the same night my best friend fell in love with me." Melissa pondered with a soft laugh. "Sounds about right."
"Sweetheart," Jackson took both of their glasses and set them down on the table next to the swing before turning back to his wife. "You will never be anything but the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Ever. You are my best friend. Have been since we were kids. That will never change. Yes, you are fifty years old today but that doesn't matter to me. I don't see your age, I just see you. Nothing will ever change that."
"I know." Melissa smiled, "I'm being silly."
"Yes, you are but you wouldn't be my sweet Melissa if you weren't a little bit silly." Jackson smiled tenderly, leaning down to capture her lips with his.
It comforted her to know that no matter what age she was or what she looked like, her husband would still be in love with her no matter what. She cupped his face with her hands, bringing him closer, reveling in the warmth of her husband's kiss and the slight fruity tang of the wine. She smiled when she felt his arms slip around her body and pull her into him. She couldn't help but sigh when she melded into his strong, muscular body. With a coy smile, she stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him up. She grabbed the bottle of wine from the table and pulled him into the house. Her flirtatious nature hadn't disappeared in the years that they had been married and for that he was glad.
Perhaps, Melissa mused as he pressed her against the wall and trailed hot kisses down her neck, her husband was right.
Age was really a matter of perspective.
This was new. Like a whole new ballgame for me but it let me soften the characters around the edges. They're not so sharply edged that everything moves at a faster pace. They don't have to necessarily have short, quick banter-y conversations. They can have longer, more thoughtful conversations. I got the idea of aging them a little bit from letting my sister borrow my copy of Nights in Rodanthe. The couple in that movie is older but they act like love-sick teenagers. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. Leave me some love, if you did, my lovelies!
Love you,
RobertDowneyJrLove
