Page 64 of Counting the Days

Rhea gently traced her fingertips down his arm and across his abdomen. His body incrementally relaxed under her touch.

“I just…want you to be happy, Rhea. More than anything in the world,” he whispered, his hoarse voice filled with more intensity than he intended.

“I’m so happy with you.” She looked into his eyes.

His fingers lifted to trace the line of her collarbone. He felt her press against his body, felt the softness of her breasts on his hard torso. His breath quickened. The lingering shadow of the dream was replaced by a familiar, powerful need for her. His arm tightened around her, pulling her flush against him.

Her mouth found his with a gentle urgency as if to banish whatever had attacked him in his nightmare. Her tongue moved slowly, soothing him. Her fingers laced through his hair, tugging gently as he shifted on top of her.

His hand slid down, seeking the curve of her hip, thendipped lower. His fingers traced the waistband of her white cotton shorts. With a decisive motion, he pulled them down until her bare skin was exposed to the light of magic hour. His eyes swept over her body, and a low groan escaped him.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

His hand reached under her T-shirt and found the fullness of her breast, his thumb tracing soft, deliberate circles. Rhea arched as he gradually pulled her shirt off, then his own.

He lowered his head, slowly, patiently, tracing a line with his lips down her torso and over her hip bones. At the first brush of his breath against her most sensitive skin, he felt her tremble. Her hips lifted off the mattress as his mouth made contact. A raw gasp tore from her throat. He moved with an unhurried devotion, exploring every delicate curve with the singular purpose of pleasing her.

Her hands clutched the sheets as sensation built. He drew strength from her reactions; his movements grew more confident. He felt like he knew exactly what she needed; their bodies spoke the same language.

He reached into her nightstand and found a condom. He positioned himself over her, and her legs parted, inviting him. As he entered her, a soft moan slipped from her throat. He paused, his forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He wished there were even bigger words, more meaningful, deeper words to describe the way he felt about her—words that could express how consumed he was by that single, powerful need to make her happy.

“I love you too.”

He saw tears pricking at her eyes. Were they tears of happiness? Tears of longing? Did she have everything she wanted?Could he give her everything she wanted? She moved, rocking her hips toward him, urging him deeper. He took her cue; his pace quickened, and they moved together until the world outside, with its lingering questions and life-changing decisions, ceased to exist.

201Days

Since entering her thirties, Rheahad spent most July Fourths in her claw-foot tub wearing noise-canceling headphones, with an air purifier on full blast in the corner of her bathroom.

Los Angelenos were enamored with fireworks. Every year, the city deteriorated into a war zone; pops and explosions rang through the night at an anxiety-inducing pace. The air quality plummeted; smoke clouded the skies. Drunk youths with a fetish for arson weaved down the streets looking for something to blow up.

The only reason sensible adults left their houses on the holiday was to show their children the fireworks. Due to Rhea’s aforementioned lack of children, she spent the occasion soaking and pretending she did not live on a battlefield. This year, however, Danny invited her to a Fourth of July partyat his house. Rhea had thus far not been to Danny’s house. Every time she offered to make the trek, he would say he was happy to come west. His nursery was halfway between them; it was much easier for him to go to her than the reverse.

At first, she thought it was romantic and accepted it as part of the courting phase. As the weeks wore on, however, she beganto wonder if maybe he was hiding seven roommates or a secret wife. She followed the GPS guidance to his Pasadena address with slight trepidation, but she was so completely smitten with Danny, she seriously doubted any revelation about his life could make her want to end the relationship.

She and the seven roommates would start a book club. She and the secret wife would become best friends, bonding over their shared love of Danny. If Rhea found a dead body buried in his backyard, she would probably assume they had it coming; nothing could put her off Danny. Especially since she was making headway on getting him to realize he actually did want to be a father.

She started small, just innocently forwarding him articles that contained good news about the environment. Japanese scientists invented a plastic alternative that dissolved in salt water. A high school student invented a filter that turned carbon emissions into oxygen.

She had to sift through a lot of pretty bleak articles about the environment to find the good ones. The activity was thoroughly depressing as it dawned on her just how screwed the planet truly was. But she figured, if Danny felt like the earth was becoming healthier and people were eating fewer credit cards, maybe he would shed his resistance to adding another hundred thousand pounds of garbage to it, or two or three hundred thousand pounds, depending on how many kids they had.

Danny loved the articles. He was delighted Rhea was taking such an interest in the well-being of the planet. It was causing them to have hopeful conversations about the survival of mankind. He even responded to one of her emails with:This gives me so much hope for future generations.

She prayed that meant his subconscious was slowly opening up to the idea of having future generations of his own.

She knew another one of Danny’s reasons for remaining child-free was that he didn’t want to abandon them to go to work. She started researching the pros of working from home, and the results were plentiful.

While eating Thai food in Venice, she casually mentioned reading an article about the benefits of an at-home career: less money spent on commuting, work clothes, and takeout lunches; reduced stress; and,most important,less environmental impact.

“Haveyouever considered working from home?” she asked innocently. “Like, letting other people do the physical work and you stay home and just run the business?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it, but I love the physical part: designing the gardens, being outside, getting my hands dirty…. Plus, it’s looking like we’re gonna be opening a new nursery in Long Beach, so staying home sounds impossible.”

“Oh, congrats!” she said as their children slowly disintegrated. She tried to buy Danny a bottle of champagne to toast the new nursery, but they had to settle for Thai beers. They held up their beers, and she said a toast in his honor while racking her brain for another parenting plan.