I stared out through the patio doors with my head cocked to the side. Something definitely moved out there, which was strange so early in the morning. And I could swear I saw something pink…
“There,” I muttered to myself, locking on the quivering bush.
There was something behind or inside it, and it was making the entire bush shudder. I took a sip of my coffee and watched with a kind of peaceful ambivalence. It was before seven a.m. on the Easter Sunday. I didn’t have to work today, and Derek was still in bed.
Even on a rainy morning, those circumstances would have made me happy. And on a glorious, sunny day like this? I was delighted.
The coffee was hot, the grass outside glistened with dew, and the freshly risen sun threw long, fiery beams of orange light on the garden.
It was bliss. Nothing save for a zombie apocalypse could spoil my mood.
The bush stopped shuddering and stood still, only a few leaves quivering in the fresh morning breeze. I concluded a pair of randy cats must have picked it as the perfect spot for some hanky-panky. Unusual in the morning, but then, what did I know about randy cats?
As the bush shuddered again, I felt a flash of jealousy for the cat lady, because she was getting some and I wasn’t. But I quashed it immediately.
Jealous of a cat? Please be serious, Alice.
I opened the patio doors and stepped outside, wrapping my thin bathrobe tightly around myself. The air was cool but pleasant, and when I walked out of the shade and stood in the sun, the morning became absolutely perfect.
I smiled, closed my eyes, and turned my face up to the sun. In my life as a single mother working in customer support, this was as close as I could get to happiness, and I savored the blissful moment.
Oh, yes. I savored the fuck out of it.
The rare moments like this, when the world seemed kind and beautiful, when I was uplifted and full of hope, were the only moments I allowed myself to daydream. Normally, I held on to reality with a dogged determination, because to let go would be to tumble into despair.
The dissonance between the life I had and the life I wanted was too big.
Yet now, for one brief moment, everything felt possible.
Without opening my eyes, I imagined how my life could unfold from this morning if it was the way I wanted. For one, I would not be single anymore. There would be a man by my side, someone reliable, a good father, and yes, since I was daydreaming anyway, why not make him perfect?
He would be funny, and athletic, and he would drag us out on adventures: hiking, sailing, ice-skating in winter… Yes, he would be the complete opposite of Richard, my ex-husband, who preferred to spend his weekends sprawled sweatily on the couch with a can of beer.
I frowned, chasing the image of Richard out of my mind. Not NOW.
What else would my perfect man be like? He would turn heads, I decided. He would be so good-looking, everyone would be jealous, and whenever we made sex, I would never get enough of running my hands up his six-pack and perfectly developed chest.
I had never touched a male six-pack in my life. Suddenly, it felt very important that I do it before I die. At least once.
I smiled to myself, imagining how I could realistically go about it. Men with six-packs were out of my league, so what I would do was, I would go to the gym just once and go on a rampage, fondling male stomachs until security threw me out.
I laughed under my breath. Doable. Maybe even I would have done it—if not for Derek. A mother could not go around getting herself thrown out of places and gaining a reputation.
A mother must be responsible.
I loved Derek with all my heart. He was the joy, the light, the hope of my life, and I would do anything for him. Which seemed unfair, I knew. It didn’t feel right to burden my son with the responsibility for his mother’s happiness.
Then again, to go looking for things that would make me happy and could potentially hurt him was selfish.
So there we were.
When he grows up, I comforted myself. It won’t hurt him then.
Oh, yes. When Derek grew up. It was the mythical future where all my vague dreams and hopes lived. I would start dating then, because he would be able to deal with that better, and I wouldn’t be so afraid of bringing someone to meet him only to break up later.
I couldn’t risk that now.
Derek had enough instability in his life, what with the divorce four years before. And Richard’s unreliability, of course. My seven-year-old son was already as cynical about men as a middle-aged woman, because my ex had such an unfortunate habit of breaking his word.
But enough about Richard. I went back to my fantasy, painting the images in my mind. I imagined the glorious man of godlike proportions whom I would date as soon as Derek moved out for college.
He would be a gentleman, and he would always keep his word. Punctual, too. Oh, and he would cook! Yes, definitely. He would cook for me, wearing nothing but a cute little apron, with his shapely male ass out on display.
I frowned. Come to think of it, I hadn’t fondled any perfect male butts, either. Something I would have to add to my stunt in the gym if I ever became unhinged enough to try it…
The bush rustled violently, and I smiled. Were the cats ready for round two? What a lucky cat lady, to have such a vigorous partner! There would be yowling any moment, I knew. Nothing yowled like two horny cats going at it in the bushes.
There was another loud rustle, and then a handsome, male voice suddenly spoke my name.
“Hello, Alice.”
I frowned and shook my head without opening my eyes. That didn’t sound like yowling or any other normal garden sound. Not like a neighbor, either. So who…
“It’s nice to meet you,” the voice continued in a polite tone. “You have a beautiful home. And garden.”
Then the manly, warm voice that sounded youthful, like a man in his twenties, lowered to a mumble. I listened with my eyes still closed, trying to decide if he was real—or if I was so sex-deprived that I was hearing things.
“What now?” the voice asked in an undertone. “You greet, you say nice to meet you, then compliment the hostess. But she’s supposed to say something back? Isn’t she? Not just stand there with her eyes closed… Oh, fluffy ears!”
He exclaimed that last phrase, and I snorted with laughter. It sounded a lot like he wanted to say “for fuck’s sake”, but wanted to be proper.
Absolutely adorable.
“So you can hear me!” the voice said, moving closer. “Did I bungle it up? Sorry, I’ve never actually introduced myself to anyone, and the book said to let the conversation unfold naturally after I’ve greeted you and said the compliments… Oh, blast. I forgot the most important part.”
He stood close now. So close, in fact, my face felt suddenly cold. As if a shadow fell over it and took away the heat of the sun.
I opened my eyes.
“I forgot to say my name,” he said, standing so close, I could feel his breath on my cheek. “I’m Bunny. Easter Bunny.”
