Morning dawned upon rain speckled windows, the sun was low in the sky and thin brittle-cold air bloomed across the glass, painting pale yellow slats of light across the creases of the duvet through the gap between the curtains.
Connie stretched. She was smiling even before she woke properly, and as she blinked her smile grew and her eyelids fluttered open. She inhaled, enjoying the warmth of Rita's naked body tucked so tightly against her own, their limbs intertwined, their faces so close that every breath they breathed seemed as though they breathed as one.
She curled her toes and shuddered against the stretch, clenching her jaw against a yawn, her movements causing Rita to stir.
Connie watched as Rita screwed up her nose, wriggling the tip from side to side before opening one eye and peering up at Connie, her face still pressed into the pillow, the faint pink marks from the folds of fabric indented into her cheek.
"Morning birthday girl."
She whispered, and she lifted her head to place a hand beneath her cheek, before withdrawing her other hand from beneath the covers to place it against Connie's cheek and drawing her in for a kiss.
Connie sighed against her lips, returning the kiss with a smile that seemed infectious, and as she pulled away she watched Rita grin.
"Good morning..."
She whispered in return, placing the softest, briefest kiss on the very tip of Rita's nose.
Instinctively Rita cuddled closer, she wrapped her legs tighter about Connie's, curving her feet about the other woman's calves and slipping her fingers into her hair, stroking it, pushing it behind her ear, touching the soft skin at the very edge of her cheek.
"I can't believe I've really got you..."
She murmured, closing her eyes again and inhaling the warm heady scent of Connie's skin at her neck. She smelled of yesterdays perfume, of warm skin and sex and the very breath she drew in made her shiver with happiness.
Connie held her, tilting her head back so that her chin rested on the top of Rita's head, blonde hair tickling her lips. She closed her eyes, this feeling she felt, it was so alien to her that she barely recognised it – every limb, every muscle in her body lay relaxed against the mattress, every breath she took was a faultless drawing in of morning sunshine and the smell of Rita's hair, and every bit of her being, every beat of her heart, was for this woman laying smiling within her arms. Contentment, she realised, she was content, at last.
"I love you..."
The words fell from her lips on an exhale and if Rita had been drawing a breath in at the time she had uttered them, she wouldn't have heard them, they had been so quiet. Instead she had held her breath, and the sound of Connie's whisper made her lean back. She looked up at her, a beautiful sleepy smile across her pink lips, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of Connie's body against her own, and her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that looked so full of hope, so full of love...
"I love you too."
Rita puckered her lips to kiss Connie's chin, unable to quiet reach her lips.
"I'll show you how much..."
Rita murmured, gently pulling back further so that Connie could lower her gaze to meet her eyes again, one eyebrow perfectly raised.
"Not like that."
She added, her dark eyes flickering with amusement and Connie pursed her lips into the down turned smile she wore so well.
"How disappointing..."
She breathed.
Rita cleared her throat and drew in a breath, as though she were about to tell a secret.
"I want you to have a nice long shower, and then I want you to come downstairs, and Grace and I are going to make you breakfast...and then we're going to give you your birthday presents...ok?"
She smiled as she spoke, watching the careful way in which Connie watched her.
"You and Grace?"
Connie repeated, attempting to veil her surprise.
Rita nodded slowly and began to move away.
"Surely you haven't had time to buy me a present..."
Connie thought out loud, but Rita merely smiled. Downstairs they could hear the clatter of something in the kitchen and the vague murmur of the television volume being turned up too high.
"I'll go and see what they're up to."
Rita said, changing the subject, rolling over and slipping her legs out from beneath the covers, the cold air in the room pinching her skin and running goosebumps up and down the skin of her thighs.
Connie stretched again, letting the cover fall from her shoulders as she watched Rita move about the room collecting her clothes, enjoying the brief glimpses of the younger woman's naked body, wondering at how lucky she was.
"Shower."
Rita said eventually, pulling on the jeans and jumper she had worn the day before and placing a hand on the door knob, and Connie eased herself up into a sitting position as Rita slipped from the room.
She drew in a long breath of cool air and looked about herself. The room, despite the temperature had taken on a much less sparse, cold look. Now it glowed, the sheets were softer, warmer, there were two glasses on the bedside table with the remnants of wine consumed the night before...
She exhaled slowly and, bracing herself for the rush of cold air, she slipped from the covers and made her way quickly into the bathroom, and whilst she stood beneath the beating down of the scalding water from the shower head she closed her eyes again.
She thought of Rita downstairs, plotting away with Grace. She thought of last year, how Grace had gone to a friends, forgetting her mothers birthday altogether, and how she had spent the day alone, drinking, and moving about the house as though she were scared she might bump into her own shadow.
Now she was here, on her forty eighth birthday, wondering what her daughter and partner had planned. She smiled, and almost laughed out loud as she tilted her head back, allowing the water to smother her lips. The word 'partner' sounded so unlikely...this all felt like a dream. She might, at this moment, be nothing but a floating intelligence; not even a brain inside a skull, just a presence that perceives, as a ghost might. Yes, she thinks, this is probably how it must feel to be a ghost. It's a little like reading-that same sensation of knowing people, settings, situations, without playing any particular part beyond that of the willing observer.
She blew out a breath against the water and turned her head, running her hands across her face to smooth the water from her eyes. She blinked, and reached for the shampoo.
-.-
With hair still damp from the shower, Connie adjusted the sleeves of her jumper, eyeing herself in the mirror. She would do her hair and make up later, she decided, refusing to admit to herself that she was perhaps postponing them because deep within her stomach was the flutter of excitement.
She took the stairs slowly, thinking it odd how her heart rate seemed to increase with every step, and her breath caught in her throat as she heard a shriek of laughter and the clatter of a pan lid from the kitchen.
She turned and paused in the doorway, the sight before her halting her.
Grace was stood on a chair in front of the oven, beside Rita, Connie's largest saucepan on the stove top, and every so often Rita lifted the lid, only to crash it back down again as a cacophony of tinny popping noises started up again and Grace let out a squeal of laughter, grabbing hold of Rita's arm and hopping from one foot to the other, the chair wobbling precariously beneath her.
As if sensing her presence Rita glanced up, holding the lid onto the saucepan with a tea towel as though she were worried the force from within would shoot the lid straight off if she were to let go. She smiled. Her eyes were shining and her face was flushed.
Grace felt Rita hesitate and she looked up, her eyes widening as she saw her Mother.
"We're making popcorn!"
She announced, and Rita raised the hand that held the lid to nudge her, popcorn sputtering up from the pan and hitting Grace on the cheek causing her to laugh hysterically whilst Rita peered back at the pan, repositioning the lid.
Connie took a step forward into the room and looked down at the piece of popcorn that squeaked beneath the sole of her bare foot.
"I can see that..."
She murmured, and Rita pointed at her with the wooden spoon she was holding in her other hand, making to say something, but Connie spoke first.
"And why are you making popcorn?"
Connie asked, raising her foot behind herself and reaching down to take the popcorn from her skin.
"So that we can eat it!"
Grace replied, pushing her hair back from her face haphazardly and Rita expelled a giggle of a laugh whilst Connie rolled her eyes.
"You ask a silly question, you get a silly answer..."
Rita murmured. Her eyes held the glimmer of that look, as she looked across the room at Connie. That look that said 'I have a secret', that look that said 'that secret is you'.
"Yes, thank you for that..."
Connie smiled, her voice low, and she moved into the room properly.
"It's for you!"
Grace glanced down to the saucepan before looking back at her mother.
"I'm making you breakfast...to say Happy birthday!"
She added with a grin, before turning back to the stove to watch Rita give the pan a firm shake with both hands.
Connie watched as Rita turned back to the saucepan, Grace standing next to her on the chair, both leaning over, and every time Rita lifted the lid, and the popcorn spat up into their faces they shrieked in unison and were left laughing, Grace's hand clutching hold of Rita's arm again, holding herself steady. She smiled again, slowly, the corners of her mouth twitching.
This is it. Connie thought watching them. This is how it should be.
-.-
More tomorrow. Good lord that episode of Casualty was dramatic! (lovely little bits of Connie though..that smile as she passed through the double doors of RESUS in particular...my heart may need time to recover!) Anyway, hope you enjoyed the update! Let me know what you think, as usual! xxx