Her chocolate brown hair used to be long, but now, rests on her shoulders. Light green eyes find mine, and a smile spreads across her face, lifting her already high cheekbones. Her olive skin tone matches mine. This is what my mother would look like if she were still alive. Beautiful. “Happy Birthday, Kenleigh.” The woman stands from the table and makes her way to me. I’ve already cried once today. I do not want to do it again, but damn it if they don’t fall unbidden. The woman who is almost an exact replica of my mother embraces me in a tender hug. “Don’t cry, Sweetie. It’s a special day for you,” she coos in my ear.
I return her affection as I wrap my arms around her middle. “I’ve missed you so much, Aunt Brenda,” I reply on a shuddering breath.
“I’ve missed you, too.” She kisses my forehead just like my mother used to do, and steps back to take my hands in hers. Aunt Brenda holds me at arm’s length as she looks me over. “You have turned into such a beautiful, young woman. You look just like your mother. The only difference is you have your father’s piercing, baby blues.”
I smile at her, because I’m afraid if I say anything, I will completely lose it, and that’s not what I want to happen. “Are you hungry, Kenleigh?” Mrs. Sandy asks from the kitchen table.
“Yes please,” I say, looking in her direction. Aunt Brenda drops one of my hands, but laces her fingers through mine with the other. We walk into the kitchen and take a seat at the table. Now with my composure somewhat composed, I ask, “How did you get here?”
She raises her eyebrows at my question, and I realize how ridiculous I sound. “I am going to assume that you already know the answer to that question. Because, I would hate for you to be implying that I’m old.”
I laugh at her teasing tone. “That nice young man that you’ve been seeing called me, and thought it would be a good idea for me to come up. I drove up last night and stayed in a hotel.”
Wes never ceases to amaze me. His constant surprises make me fall for him even more, but his thoughtfulness steals my breath. I squeeze her hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“Oh… I see you got my note,” Wes says from behind me.
I turn in my seat, catching him standing in the archway that separates the kitchen from the living room. My hand slips from Aunt Brenda’s as I stand. My steps have a purpose behind them as I make my way over to him. Normally, I’m not this brazen with public displays of affection, but no one has ever done something so thoughtful for me. I stop just inches away from his chest. I bring my hand up and cup his cheek. A stray tear escapes when I look into those captivating blue eyes of his. My voice thick with emotion, I try to speak over the lump in my throat. “I love you so much.” Right now, in this moment, no one and nothing else matters but him and me. Everything else evaporates around us. My hand slides from his cheek to the back of his neck as I pull his lips down to mine. My lips mold over his top one, kissing him once, twice, three times before I drop my head to his chest. “Thank you. For this. For my aunt. You have no idea what this means to me,” I whisper before I look back up at him.
Wes tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His thumb rubs back and forth against my cheekbone as he stares at me with such love and adoration shining at me. The warmth of his touch sends a tingling sensation down my spine. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the one person who means the world to me. I love you, too,” he whispers, kissing me again.
The sound of a throat clearing behind us breaks our spell. I expect my face to feel flush with embarrassment, but it doesn’t. I am not embarrassed in the slightest that I just kissed Wes in front of everyone. I have no reason to be. In all my life, I have never felt the love that he continuously gives me from anyone else. “Your plate’s ready,” Mrs. Sandy says as she places my plate on the table. I lace my fingers with Wes’ as we walk to the table.
“Thank you.” When I sit, I have my aunt Brenda on my left, Wes on my right, and Mrs. Sandy directly across from me. “I’m sorry that I don’t have more time to spend with you today, Aunt Brenda.” And I am sorry. If today weren’t the last day of camp, I would love more than anything to catch up with her. I need to make more of an effort to go home and visit.
Mrs. Sandy waves her hand in the air as I take a bite of some of the best damn biscuits and gravy that I have ever tasted. “Oh, come on, Kenleigh. Your aunt is here. Spend time with her.”
“But it’s the last day of camp,” I argue.
“I know, but it’ll be okay. Bailey will probably hang out with John anyway. She’ll understand. Plus, it’s your birthday. Go have fun. Actually, I insist that you have fun.”