Guy and Reason

Chapter 23 (Guy): By The End

For the last few weeks, Reason and I had been making Tuesdays less terrible, and I either cooked for her or found some little place off the beaten track for us to try. 

Quality time.

Acts of service.

During our explorations other nights of the week, I made sure I was her friend, slowly building trust between us. We also continued our ban on discussing A Reason To Care when we were together. That wasn't what I wanted to focus on, and she didn't either. 

But in addition to quality time and acts of service, I added a third goal to my list.

Make her laugh.

We'd laughed all the time when we'd been together and some instinct told me she didn't laugh like that anymore. I'd seen her laugh since I'd come back into her life, but her laugh wasn't the same. It was quieter, restrained, superficial. Before, her laughter had gone deep, making her eyes crinkle as she threw her head back and gave herself up to whatever was making her laugh. That change was one I didn't like and made me determined to give that back to her since I'd been responsible for taking it away.

Tonight, we were at a pizza food truck she'd wanted to try. We'd gotten our individual pies and found a nearby picnic table.

"When do you leave for training camp?" she asked, tearing into a slice of her meat lovers pizza.

"Five weeks," I said, hating the thought of leaving her now that we were becoming more at ease with one another. "We start training at the end of July."

"Making sure it'll be nice and hot for you."

"What's training camp without thinking you're about to die from the heat?"

She laughed, remembering how much I'd looked forward to playing in the cooler fall weather.

"I'm thinking of retiring after my contract's up." That was abrupt, but I wanted her to know. Two more seasons after this one, and I was calling it done.

"And then what?" she smiled, pretty much knowing the answer.

"Then I can become the geek I was born to be. I don't want to push it much longer and play as long as I can because no way do I want my body to get that beaten to shit. I don't want to be walking like an old man when I'm in my thirties. I need to be able to be there for my wife and children."

That would be you as my wife, Reason, and any children that we might have. Do you still want two?

Her eyes flew to mine, and I wanted to rewind even as I watched her gather herself.

"Any candidates in mind?" she asked me lightly.

"There's only one I have my eye on. I've had it on her for a while, if we're being honest. Years and years."

Looking away for a minute, she did something that surprised me. I was expecting some remark about how I hadn't always had my eye on her, but instead of hitting me with well-deserved snark, Reason hit me with a bit of honesty that gave me hope.

"Good luck with her," she said lightly. "I'm rooting for you, Guy."

And she meant it, saying so much with so few words. I wanted to fucking tattoo that all over my body, but I'd settle for my forearm. I'd have to see if my tattoo artist had any openings in the next five weeks to emblazon my skin with those words. Those hopeful words. Bas was in high demand, and sometimes it took a while to get in, but he was so talented, it was worth the wait. He'd come up with a special design to really make her words stand out.

I'm rooting for you, Guy.

Once Eden had finished her contract and began working for A Reason, I knew my time was getting short with her and training camp was looming large. She and I were professional at the office, and I left her alone as much as possible, but when we did have to interact, it was polite and to the point. Brisk and businesslike, despite me wanting to stare at her working all day. It was like watching her come to life, a little whirlwind of energy zipping through the office, eyes lit with possibilities and potential and dreams.

Reason always had ideas for the charity, and with the foundation laid that we'd envisioned, her eyes were set on growing bigger and doing better. Becoming more efficient and making the most of every dime donated. Getting to the underserved populations. Reaching out into various communities in the ways they most needed. Helping more people, which was always at the heart of it all.

One Friday, not too long before training camp, I walked out of the office and realized Reason's car and mine were the only ones left in the lot. Reason had parked under a tree, which was apparently inhabited by approximately ten thousand birds with digestive problems. So I dragged the hose out that we used to keep all of the medical vans clean and began spraying off her car, hoping to get it clean before she ended her day.

"What are you doing, Guy?" she asked from behind me.

"Cleaning off target practice," I grinned at her.

"You didn't have to do that."

"You couldn't even tell what color your car was."

"I would have taken it to a car wash on the way home."

Make her laugh.

"You got your phone and keys on you?" I asked.

"No, I left them inside when I came to ask what you were doing. Why?"

I sprayed the hose near her feet really quick. Hopping back as she shrieked, she gave a little laugh as I checked her face to make sure she wasn't mad. Since she didn't look angry, I sprayed a little closer to her again and the third time, I sprayed her legs a bit.

But she didn't back out of range and she didn't run inside.

"You're asking for it," she warned, pointing her finger at me.

I sprayed higher up on her chest a bit and once again, she did a shriek/giggle thing, and once again, she stood her ground. But it wasn't enough. I wanted more.

"Wait, Guy, who's that?" she asked, pointing over my shoulder. "He's the creeper I've seen hanging around my car this last week when I get off work."

I turned quickly, ready to confront the asshole, wondering why this was the first I'd been hearing of someone lurking around the parking lot. As I looked for the threat, she pounced, snatching the hose nozzle out of my hands. Quickly stepping out of my reach as I lunged at her, with a manic look of glee, she sprayed me right in the face and torso. I'd just been getting her with the mist setting, but Reason nailed me with the shower setting.

"That was a mistake," I told her menacingly, just as she sprayed me again with the hose.

I ran toward her through the water and she threw the hose in my direction in an attempt to slow down my pursuit, laughing and shrieking the whole time as she darted through the parking lot to avoid me. 

Laughing. 

That was what I wanted, so I let her dodge me for a few minutes, both of us enjoying the chase. When I knew she was getting tired (Reason always said she would only consider running if a rabid tiger was chasing her with a chainsaw), I caught up to her and grabbed her off her feet.

She shrieked then began laughing, trying to wriggle out of my hold.

"You're soaking wet!" she protested.

"Who got me that way, Reason? Hmmm?" I said in her ear.

Giving her a final squeeze, I put her down on the ground. Right near the hose. Hoping...

Quick as anything, she reached down, grabbed the hose and blasted me with the water, and this time, I yanked it from her hand and sprayed her with it. Back and forth we went for half an hour, and by the end, we were both drenched.

With Reason laughing the way she used to.