"I've never had a moment's doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life."

  ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 

My eyes blink open to the dark room we've fallen asleep in.
I shoot my eyes around the room and see the time on the digital alarm clock reads 7:30 pm. Damn, already?

Morgan turns over and lies on her back, starting to wake up, but I don't want her to. She sleeps so peacefully, and deserves it after all we've been through in the past twenty-four hours alone.

I lie back down and use her chest as my pillow.

She holds me and then twirls my hair in her fingers. Just when I was thinking about cutting it, too, I guess I won't anymore if she likes it so much.

We don't say anything, just synchronize our breathing and listen to the howling sounds from outside.
There's none of that in New York. Well, it's loud, but you won't get coyotes in the city. It's kind of peaceful, the nature. For someone who wasn't excited to come back to Penshaw, I missed it a lot. I think I feel grounded.

"Baby, should we get up?" Morgan's voice is small, still tired, it's cute.

I inhale deeply before answering her question.

"I just want to sit and talk to you."

"About what, Chris?" she asks, trying to sit up.

I desperately pull her back down. "There's no such thing. How do you feel?"

Morgan sighs. I can tell she's tired, and I don't mean sleepy. Being here is a lot for her - the memory of her late sister and niece.

"Right now, like I want to shower and get something to eat, I'm starving. Come on, babe, we've been in bed long enough." Morgan struggles to pry my arms from around her very petite waist.

"I had another dream." I blurt, releasing her body slowly.

"What?" Her tone is sharp. She rolls her neck and wears a bored facial expression.

I position myself upon the bed to support my own weight after several hours of using her body for support.

"About us - our future. I think it's time to reevaluate what we want. When we want it."

"Chris, what are you talking about?" Morgan's eyes flicker.

I wet my lips and shift my hands to place them on her stomach that has rolls in it when she sits at the angle. They're cute to me.
That's like a lot of things about her, I like her very small gap but she hates it, says she rather it be bigger or nonexistent. She doesn't embrace her natural curls, says Callie was the curly girl, and she prefers her hair wavy. Morgan wishes she had full thighs and a bigger ass, but I think she's perfect as is. I can't imagine her any other way.

"Marriage, maybe. Perhaps, even a little you." I wait to smile until I see her completely speechless.

"Chris, you must've bumped your head before we fell asleep. What are you-"

I cut her off to kiss the back of her hand and laugh a little. "No, I'm serious."

Her eyes open wider and she looks a little more alive. "You mean it? Marriage? A baby? I-I don't know what to say."

"I just think when we are on the same page, it's a conversation worth having. I'm excited for more of you."

Her eyes squint on my face so I laugh and finally, she does too.

"That was a very mature answer. Why are you being so cute?" She purrs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

That's our cue.

"It's just me," my mother's voice rings loudly. "we're heading out!"

I look at the time on the clock again and start to rush.

"Where are they going? I wanna go." Morgan springs to her feet to go open the door but I stop her by the wrist.

"First, you need to get dressed." I say, grinning big.

She looks around, worried. "I don't know what to wear?"

I sneak into the closet and pop back out with a hanger in my hand. On it, a dress I bought for Morgan some time ago specifically for her birthday; it's enclosed in a clear garment dust cover. One day while shopping, she tried it on and fell in love with the little gold dress, but didn't get it because she didn't think she'd have anywhere to wear it. Well, with what I have planned, the dress is perfect.

"What's this?" Asks the birthday girl, eyebrow raised.

"Look!" I yell excitedly, shoving the dress at her chest.

Morgan unfolds her bony arms to grab the hanger and then lie the dress over the bed and unzip the cover.

She slightly gasps at the shimmery ensemble and then darts her eyes to me.

"So, you like it?" I ask though judging by how she's starry-eyed at the dress, I already know the answer.

Morgan nods her head with a sweet closed-lip smile. "Yes. What are you gonna wear?"

"Eh," I hesitate. "you'll see..."

~~~

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MORGAN!" Everyone shouts as soon as the lights turn on.

The genuine shock on her face makes everyone laugh and snap pictures.

I grin triumphantly and unlock our arms so she can roam freely.

I think everyone in Penshaw is either inside The Q, or outside waiting in that long line wrapping around the restaurant.

"Chris," Izzy walks over, laughing hysterically. "you look so good as Ken!" Jasmine nods, agreeing.

I make a straight face because it's not that funny.

"Say cheese!" Izzy exclaims, holding the camera to her eye.

I pose like the doll until the camera flashes, and then flip her off.

She laughs, showing me the picture. "This is too good. Y'know, you really are the Ken to her Barbie."

"Why isn't Morgan wearing pink?!" Jasmine does a double take at the birthday girl across the room.

I make a mouth with my fingers and flap them, mocking Jasmine's constant nagging.

"Because she's a Barbie in whatever she wears, and she always wears pink." I explain.

"She really is a doll." Jasmine sighs admirably, watching Morgan greet partygoers and take pictures with old friends.

"Well—" I stop myself and freeze upon seeing Jabari saunter over in this disco Ken outfit, wig and all.

"AYO!" I bust out laughing.

"Alright now, it's not that funny." Jasmine smacks her lips to defend her man.

"Whew." I crack up and wipe the tears from my face with the ascot around my neck.

I'm Ken from Toy Story 3. It was the easiest and Mom couldn't wait to put me in these damn loafers and blue leopard print button-down shirt.

"You look fuckin' terrible." I say to JB, patting his back as I walk away from the group by the entrance.

"Chris! Chris! Come take a picture." The photographer yells.

I grab a drink off the tray of a passing caterer's tray and downed it in a single gulp. Gonna need a lot more of those tonight. . .

Madi waves to me before she hugs Morgan again and steps out of the Barbie themed Photo Booth.

I'd like to credit for this, but most of it was Mom and the girls' idea. Izzy got the backdrop and oversized Barbie-box cutout for the photos, Jasmine came up with the idea to have everyone dress as a different Barbie or Ken, and Mom thought to host the party at The Q.
I didn't help setup as I was sleep most of the day and didn't even think we'd even still throw the surprise party, but this is all coming from my bank account, unfortunately. Anything for my baby, I suppose.

Laying eyes on me again, Morgan laughs at my getup again and absolutely cannot take me seriously. I can't either, hell, from the exposed ankles, my hair slicked back, three inch turquoise shorts, and the shirt only halfway buttoned to show off my oiled chest. Can't say I'm not committed to the character.

"Honestly, you could've just dressed regular." Morgan tells me, still hysterical.

"Okay, get together!" The photographer instructs.

Morgan and I pose like the dolls for a series of photos until we're finally told "that's enough."

"This is so cute," Morgan says, walking arm-in-arm with me to the bar. "thank you. I love it!"

I smile and my eyes fall to her lips, but before I can suck them, my dad comes over and picks Morgan up for a spin. It catches me off guard because I rarely see them hug, let alone him pick her up and be all toothy about it. They look happy, like they love each other as they should, it's just weird.

"Happy birthday, Captain! Again." He chuckles, putting her back down.

She covers her chest and then smiles broad. "Thanks, Cart-man. For everything."

"My wife and I couldn't agree on what to get you so we both got you something. Oh, and, you are absolutely obligated to tell us which gift you like better." My father makes Morgan laugh.

Dad squeezes her shoulder, grinning like he's so proud.

I want to make a joke about his hippie-Ken costume, but don't because this is a heartwarming moment.

"Oh, Morgy," Izzy sings, dancing over to us. "we need more picturesssss!"

Morgan gives me this "can I go" look and I release her waist so Izzy can steal her for God knows how long this time. Women.

Dad watches me fiddle with the gift Morgan left behind and then pats my shoulders.

"What ya drinking, son? It's on me."

I shoot my eyebrows up. "Well in that case, whiskey on the rocks." I ask the Jock-Ken clad bartender.

"Tom Collins, please." Dad orders next, slapping his card down.

"Just one, right?" I test him.

"Just one." He assures me.

I wait to get my drink and then face the dance floor to see Morgan dancing with my mother. It's always kind of inspiring to see them together, getting along so well - so effortlessly.

Morgan spins out of my mother's arms and catches my gaze. She does a double take at me. My heart skips a beat.

How can she look this beautiful, I ask myself.

We're staring at each other across the room, this time more purely than undressing one another with our eyes. No, I see her, and she's effervescent, gorgeous.

"I think I'm gonna ask Morgan to marry me." I spit out.
The words came out before I could actually process them. I didn't mean to say it out loud, just kind of slipped.

"You what?" My father kind of hesitates and chokes a bit.

"Yeah." I nod my head. "I think I will. Bartender, another whiskey, please!"

Dad puts his half-full glass down and squares my shoulders.

"Son?!" he raises his voice, hand waving in my face until I push it away, chuckling.

"You're serious?" Dad realizes with a gasp, his lips parted with shock.

I tear my eyes away from Morgan again and let my father see just how serious I am (although, I'm smirking still.)

"I just feel like it'll solve everything, and I don't mean like put a band-aid over a gun shot, but we overcome everything and I know we're ready for the next step."

"Well, shit." He exhales, raising his glass. "I know how you are when you have goals, so, congratulations. Just let your mother know sooner rather than later; you know she'll be upset you even thought of it before you tell her."

"Hey." I hear another voice in my ear that causes my dad to give us some space.

I turn and look down at Madi, an old friend from high school.

"How are you—" we ask at the same time and laugh.

Madi tucks the thin hair behind her large ear and exhales through her nose.
Her posture is bad, spine curved like a 'c' and I remember it's been that way since high school.

Not much has appeared to change about her since I left Penshaw and last saw her after her sister, Maya, passed. No, that's not true, actually. She's gained weight and gotten a nose ring - the one like a bull. I don't like it.
Her hair is ratty and it's not just for the mermaid Barbie look, it's just stringy on it's own. She has yellow teeth and chipped nail polish. There's a faint smell. Not faint, actually. I can't put my finger on it, it's like cigarettes and piss.

What happened to her, I wonder. So, I ask her how's she doing again.

"Recovering mostly, but I'm going back to school so I can finally get a degree— You?"

I heard most of what she said. Halfway through her annoying voice speaking to me I zoned out. My eyes wandered to Morgan who's enjoying herself now by the DJ.
He just shouted her out and transitioned to the next song, she's loving it, dancing like there's no one watching. Except, I am. Very closely.

"I want someone to look at me the way you look at Morgan." Madi says, standing from the stool.

I blink my eyes away from my girlfriend and return my attention to Madison.

"You know," Madi says, shaking the pink and silver tinsel bangs out of her face. "when I saw you at that basketball game last year, I thought I was going to win you over."

Though I don't say a word, Madi can read my clearly dumbfounded facial expression.

"But the second I saw her, I got intimidated. Can you blame me? Look at this party, it's Barbie theme for a reason. I was just jealous - Morgan's beautiful, any guy's dream girl. Then, she opened her mouth, and I knew I didn't stand a chance with you: she is so bright and bubbly. Like, genuinely kind and sweet. I tried getting with you and she was nice to me when my sister-" Madi stops herself there before mentioning the untimely death of Maya.

Seems like we all lost someone last year, I think in my head.

"May I steal my son?" Mom skips over to ask.

Madi sniffles and puts her hand up stiffly as a goodbye wave before pushing off of the bar and switching away awkwardly.

"Have you been avoiding me, son?" Mom tests me with an elbow to my rib cage.

I curl my face, objecting, and throw my arm over her shoulders as any consolation.

"Oh!" She blushes, squeezing me back. "feels like it's been forever since you've held me like this. I miss it. I miss you."

I laugh shortly, still holding her. "I'm right here, Mom."

She takes the drink from my hand and squares me by the hips, getting a good look at my face.

Her shoulders hunch and I see her purple-painted lips start to quiver, pulling down into a frown.

"I just miss how we were. I miss seeing you everyday. I miss you being a little boy. I just miss you." Her voice cracks and she wipes the corners of her eyes with her pinky fingers.

There's a certain feeling you get as a son when you see your mother cry in any instance. Obviously, it doesn't feel good, I can feel it in my chest.

I gulp hard and pull her close to me, my chin on her head as she squeezes my body.

I just hold her and say, "I'm not going anywhere, Mom. I'm still your son."

"It's just not the same," she sniffles, pulling away. "you're not the same."

I look into her eyes and try to see where she's coming from but she walks away, shaking her head. Her words strike me, although I know she's had a drink or two.
What does she mean I'm not the same?