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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.
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.
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.
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.
“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
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“I forgot to say my name,” he said, standing so close, I could feel his breath on my cheek. “I’m Bunny. Easter Bunny.”
I didn’t say anything, because my brain refused to produce any dignified words. In fact, it kept squealing girlishly. And no wonder. The man who stood in front of me was… He was… Flawless. Beautiful. Godlike.
“Will-you-have-sex-with-me?” he blurted out so fast, the words almost bled together into gibberish. Almost. “What?” I asked, completely thrown by his statement. “You… what? How?!” Bunny gave me a panicked look, his gorgeous face now so red, he looked entirely too young for me. Like a cute twenty-year-old who had somehow never learned how to talk to girls. “Well… How… I mean, I thought you knew how s-sex worked… But, well, if I have to… Ahem. Sex. With a penis. In your vagina,” he mumbled, casting his eyes down.
“She shouted at him once, threatening she would leave him if he didn’t help her, and he called her ugly names. She cried for a short while after that, but her son needed her, so she wiped away her tears, put a smile on her face, and played with him on the floor, away from the husband. Her hands only shook a little. “And her magic was so thick in that room, the air vibrated with it. She was so strong and beautiful, and I ached for her, and wanted to comfort her, but above all, I admired her strength.”
“The next year,” Bunny said, “the husband wasn’t there, and she was happy, but subdued. Brittle, and yet, so, so strong. The magic trailed after her when she chased her toddler in the garden, helping him look for his presents. She was still tired. Still did all the work. But she didn’t cry once that day. And yet, I couldn’t help but want to be there with her, inside the house, helping her cook, load the dishwasher, or just massaging her tired shoulders.”
“And then, there was that one moment when her son was already asleep, and she came out into the garden dressed in a warm sweater, a glass of wine in her hand. She stood there, the light of the waxing moon falling on her face, and suddenly…”
“My body wants you,” he said, his voice lowering. “I want you. Nothing else will do. No one else. So this is why I’m asking you, Alice.”
