Capricorn Season - Jimmy Page

Chapter 15 Part 1

My eyes open and I am greeted with the sight of the boathouse, the place I have been staying for the last four months. I have come to know it as home. My apartment stays cold and desolate, a place I do not wish to stay. Although it was ultimately nicer and prettier, cleanlier too, I like to stay here because it reminds me of him. 

I turned over in the nest of the bed we built and see him. He was smiling already, cheeks red, and sent me a silent wish with his eyes. They were twinkling and bright. 

"Good morning, my love." His face was pressed against my chest, sweet and child-like I gave him a giggle as he looked up at me with his drooping eyes, laden with thick sleep. He looked like he had a good rest, one he needed desperately. 

He was home for just a short time. Soon he'd be off to Bron Yr Aur. He'd been home for a week now and I was enjoying our quiet bliss. I didn't think I would have been so relieved to see him, but I was.  

"Good morning, my little Jimmy."

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you." I bloomed like the flowers outside our windows. The Spring air was in full effect, Summer on its way. A thin melon-slice smile played on my face. Today would be a good day. It would be the first good birthday I'd had in many years. I knew this because he assured me and I had no reason to not believe him.

"Do we have any plans for today?"

"As you've requested, it shall be just us for most of the day. But the guys wanted to stop by to see you for a little bit and wish you a happy birthday."

"Awe, that's so sweet!"

I played with a loose thread on our sheets. The sun was coming in from around the edge of our drawn curtains, painting shapes on the carpet.   

"I am going to give you your first of many presents today." He reached over to the side table and produced a joint. It wasn't wrapped very neatly, so I could tell it was done by him. Robert had better rolling skills than either of us.

"Oh, thank you!" I took it from his hands and admired his poor craftsmanship. It was sweet that he tried. 

We shared the joint, passing it back and forth until there was nothing but a smoking stub left. He pressed the remainder into an ashtray that was perched on his bedside table. It was a marvelous way to start my birthday.

When the ashtray was firmly tucked away on the bedside table, next to the tiffany lamp, he turned to me and spoke, "Now we have breakfast."

"You've prepared breakfast?"

"Of course. It's on the table, all ready for us." His smile was sweet and rested comfortably on his face. 

"Well, we better make sure Lucy doesn't gobble it all up before we get down there." 

We made for the stairs. We walked together, his steps trailing behind me, and soon reached the bottom of the steps. When we got down to the kitchen the meal was pristine and untouched. Lucy sat on one of the white chairs, her front paws on the edge of the table, creeping her way onto the cloth.

She was quick, but not quick enough. I scooped her up before she could snatch anything up.  

"When it's your birthday, we'll make you breakfast. Not today though." I held her in my arms long enough for her to start purring. The rumbling radiating from her body was sweet and made my heart swell. I placed her on the ground and sat at the table, ready to eat. "This all looks so good!"

He made a wonderful spread of all my favorites. Waffles topped with whipped cream and fruit, eggs, a breakfast sausage I did not know the name of, and fruit juice. It was plated nicely with chocolate syrup on the side for my waffles and flowers placed in the middle of the table in a vase. He told me they were for me.

The arrangement was beautiful. Blooms of purple, yellow, and pink were spread evenly in the glass vase. I tapped my fingers against the sturdy container, listening to the twinkling sound it produced.   

The herb was working its way through my system to full effect, causing me to devour my plate. I was gluttonous and greedy on my special day. I didn't care for table manners. I sang in pleasure as I ate. The fruit was so sweet and soft, tasting as if it were a perfect Summer day in July. I was curious how he got berries that tasted so delightfully. They couldn't have been normal fruits, they must've been picked from wavering trees in the backyards of gods older than the sun.

I thought maybe he had gathered them himself, fighting through millennia of carnage to retrieve the fruit. What could he have encountered on this journey for my breakfast? Perhaps ancient and sentient beings much larger than him, things unfathomable by the human mind. I thought of him moving through space and time to join me here, with his great gifts. He returned at just the right hour to celebrate my birthday, bringing with him wonderful news and of course, the magical berries.

Forever the memory of the sugary delights would stain my tongue. I fear the magic of fruit would be tainted, no Summery gift being as wonderful as this one. I pushed that thought aside and ate my eggs and sausage.

"So, how was it?" He asked when I was finished.