“You look nice, Kai,” I said as he straightened his tie.
“Please, woman, I am impeccable,” he teased. He smiled down at me. “You excited?”
“Uh, duh.”
“Eloquent as always, I see,” he prodded.
“Shut up, Kai.”
“Another one for the history books.”
“Go,” I ordered. “Now. Over there. With your wife. This instant before I tell her that I caught you pinching Mrs. Eisenberg’s tush.”
“She’s a hundred years old!” Kai complained.
“I know! Who knew you had such a geriatric fetish? You’re such a creep, Kai!”
Kai acted mock offended. “You’re no fun,” he whined. “Gaw, Jupiter.”
I watched Kai walk away and turned to find Ezra. I spotted him at the entrance of Fountainhead, the name of our new geriatric and pediatric day center. It was our launch day, our maiden voyage. He looked nervous.
“Dr. Brandon?” I called out.
Ezra turned toward me and smiled, holding his hand out for me. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“It’s been thirteen years of hard work, late nights, failures, successes, heartaches, and joys, so, yes, I’d say I’m ready.”
“What a ride,” he admitted.
“Indeed.”
“I have a surprise for you,” he told me, dragging me toward the automatic doors.
“We have a press conference in less than ten minutes,” I said.
“It won’t take long,” he said.
“Words every girl longs to hear.”
He burst out laughing. “Please, you know I’d treat you better than that, Brandon.”
“That’s right,” I said, slapping him on the rear.
“Jupiter!” he complained, looking around.
“What?” I asked, playing innocent.
“Here,” he said, shoving me through his office door.
On his desk was a bottle of champagne and two flutes. He took the bottle in his hand and began unwrapping the cork.
“Before things get crazy, before we get too busy, before we’re both pulled a million directions, I need you to take a glass,” he said, popping the cork and pouring champagne into a flute.
He handed it to me and I took it, then he poured himself a glass.
“To you,” he said.
“No, to us.”
We clinked our glasses together and toasted to our incredible life. I drank then set my glass down and glanced at the corner of his office piled with moving boxes and bags.
“Oh my gato,” I said, picking up a bag and holding it up. “It’s your suitcase from our road trip.”
Ezra stepped closer and examined it. “So it is,” he said, nodding his head.
I stared at it, a few tears in my eyes. “So many memories ago, but it still feels like it was yesterday.” Something dawned on me then. “Remember outside that motel, when we were covered in burnt grass and black soot?”
“Yeah,” Ezra answered absently, moving around the room, looking for something.
“And remember when I tried to dig into your bag for something but you shot me down with a quickness?”
Ezra’s hands froze. “Uh, yeah,” he answered, but there was a hitch in his voice. Got him.
“What was in the bag, Ezra?”
Ezra stood and turned toward me, the biggest grin on his face. “I suppose ten years of marriage and three kids has guaranteed me a permanent fixture in your life.”
“Ah, you-a would-a be-a correct-a!”
“Every day after work the summer before college, I would watch Almost Famous just to watch Penny Lane and be reminded of you. I brought the movie with me. I knew if you saw it, you’d be onto me, and I couldn’t have that.”
I snorted. “Okay, but that’s not so bad. Why even bother?”
“Because I knew if you picked up the case, there would be a chance you’d open it and I definitely couldn’t risk that.”
I laughed. “I feel like this is déjà vu, but what was in that case, Ezra?”
“Your yearbook picture, cut out and taped on the inside cover.”
I belly laughed, like a real gut laugh. “You’re such a psycho!”
“Hey!” he said, punching me playfully on the shoulder and trying not to laugh. “Be nice, man. I was dark and moody and worked hard to keep up the persona. Your finding that film and the picture inside would have shot my chances to hell with you.”
“Uh, no, I was riding high on an Ezra cloud. I probably would have walked around with ‘Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head’ on repeat while skipping around with a dreamy-eyed expression on my face.”
Ezra laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Bite me.”
I looked mock offended. “You’re a doctor, do you know that?”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight his smile. He came around his desk and leaned against the edge. “I loved you, you know.”
“What do you mean? When?”
“When we were on that trip. I loved you, I just didn’t know it.”
“No way, babe.”
“Way, Jupiter,” he mocked with a smile. He wrapped his arms around my triceps. “Were you in Simpson’s class? I can’t remember.”
“No.”
“In that class, I learned about Plato’s The Symposium. Familiar?”
I scrunched my nose in thought. “Vaguely.”
“Okay, so according to Greek mythology, we were each born with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus, fearing what powers we might possess, split us in half and scattered us across the earth, doomed to search for our other halves. He says that love is simply a pursuit of our whole self.”
“The idea of that is romantic,” I admitted.
“Indeed,” he agreed, pulling me toward him and wedging me between his knees. “I count my lucky stars you needed that ride to school, Jupiter. I feel like I stumbled upon my other half on that trip. It was strange, and fated, and imminent.
“When was the last time I told you I loved you?”
“Stop.” I giggled, pushing at his chest.
Ezra caught my chin and forced my gaze to his. “Jupiter,” he said, “I don’t say it nearly enough. It would have to be a repetitive utterance on my tongue for it to be said tolerably, and there aren’t enough moments in the waking day to accommodate me.”
I smiled at him, placing my hand on either side of his neck. I felt his pulse quicken beneath my fingertips.
“I love you, Jupiter. I love you, Jupiter. I-I love you, Jupiter.”
“As I love you, Ezra.” I kissed his mouth softly. “Did you know a kiss is worth a thousand I love yous?”
“You see, I didn’t know that,” he told me, wrapping his arms around my back and settling a hand on the nape of my neck.
I nodded to confirm it. He ran his bottom lip across mine several times.
“These poor lips,” he promised with a devilish smile.