20 I Love You

“You can’t park a bit closer?” I half whine, half ask Toph as he puts the car in park.

Rolling his eyes, he doesn’t even answer before getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him. Following suit, I manage to get out and stand next to him.

“Are you really bitching about 5 blocks?” he raises an eyebrow challengingly.

Slumming a little, I give him my best pout face, “It’s your fault. You hurt me.”

“You should have woken up. I warned you,” he turns his back to me and squats a little. “Jump on. I’ll carry you.”

“I’ll look like a right idiot,” folding my arms over my chest and leaning to one side.

Shaking his head, he smiles and looks back at me again, “Like the drama queen you’re being now? Get on or walk. Those are the only two options. You saw that there were not parking spaces closer.” At my hesitation, he rolls his eyes again, “Come on, no one’s around. No one will see you to look like a ‘right idiot’.”

Huffing, I climb on, “Your family should get a car park.”

“You should man up. It’s only a few blocks.”

“Again, I say you hurt me.”

He laughs as he carries me toward the bar, “It’s not my fault you didn’t wake up.”

“You could have been nicer about it.”

“Day, I tried for an hour or so to wake you up nicely. It didn’t work. Plus, I warned you. Fair and square,” even if I can’t see his face, I can still hear the smirk in his voice.

Wiggling a little, I try to free myself. It doesn’t work, “Lies! Saying, ‘this is your warning’ does not mean ‘I’m going to throw you in a cold shower’. It hardly means anything at all!”

“You could’ve opened your eyes to see where we were,” he hooks his elbows tighter under my knees. “You decided to cuddle into my chest instead.”

“I didn’t think my husband would be so mean.”

He stops walking for a second and turns his head to look back at me, “Say it again.”

“You’re mean?” It sounds more like a question as it comes out of my mouth.

“No, what I am to you.”

I chuckle but play along, “My husband.” I say it slowly and accentuate every syllable.

“It sounds freaking awesome with your accent. I don’t ever get to hear you say it.”

Leaning forward a bit, I press my lips to the side of his in a quick peck, “Alright, husband, keep moving. We’re already late.”

“Also your fault,” he says nonchalantly as he continues our journey.

“None of it was my fault!” I join his chuckling. “First off, the water shocked me. So when my body reacted, I kicked the spout and twisted my ankle. That was your fault for throwing me in the shower.”

“I hardly threw you. I carried you in and set you on the tile.”

Ignoring his comment, I continue my lament, “Then it took me ten times longer to take a shower because I was freezing. That was your fault too.”

He laughs outright, “Now you’re being crazy. I had just got out of the shower when I put you in there. I know for a fact it wasn’t cold water.”

I continue again without mentioning on his banter, “And THEN you distract me when I get out with your lips!”

I wait for a second to hear his rebuttal. After a few seconds, I poke his shoulder, “No comment?”

“No,” he turns to smirk at me. “That part’s true.”

I start to chuckle as a resounding scream radiates through the air temporarily shocking us both. Looking up from his face, three teenage girls start to run toward us from the direction we were heading.

“Let me down,” I whisper into my best friend’s ear.

He shakes his head in a negative response, but doesn’t say anything.

The girls stop right in front of us, one holding her hands over her mouth. She must be the one that screamed. They all look like they’ve just seen Jesus himself. The admiration on their faces is unmistakable.

“You’re Topher Ashton,” the shortest of them yells suddenly.

With a nod, my husband confirms her allegation, “I am.”

The one with her hands covering her mouth is just letting her eyes dart back and forth between the two of us. It’s a little weird.

“And you’re Damon Jacobs,” the small one shouts again.

Chuckling, I put on my best smile, “Kind of. My surname is Ashton now. But, one in the same, yea?”

“This is the best day of my life,” she tells us with a squeak. I can’t decide if she’s going to throw up, pass out, or scream like her friend did, but she suddenly throws her hands in the air. “I’m Nancy,” she says before pointing to the girl that screamed, “That’s Laura and this is Mimi,” she ends pointing the last girl with them. “Will you guys take a picture with us?”

“Sure,” Toph answers for us. “But, Damon has to stay like this. He hurt his foot earlier.”

“That’s fine!” she squeals as she digs around in her purse.

As she draws out her phone, I voice my opinion, “How about I take the picture that way all three of you can be in it.”

“No way!” The one not covering her mouth, Mimi, hollers. “You need to be in the picture! We love you!”

A quick ‘yea’ comes from Nancy. I’m still a little worried about our screamer, Laura. She appears to be getting a little green.

Switching my gaze to her completely, I reach out a hand, “Are you okay, love?  You look like you’re going to be sick.”

She shakes her head rapidly, but doesn’t answer my question.

“Could you let me down, please, babe? I want to make sure she’s alright,” I pat Toph’s shoulder lightly to signal my release.

“But Day-” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I’m fine. She, however, is not.”

He lets me down and I hobble over to the girl, genuinely worried. Placing my hands on either of her wrists, I gently pull them away from her face, “Breathe, love. Everything’s okay.”

I’ve seen girls act like this before when presented with their idols, but I don’t want her to pass out just because Toph is standing here. He may be a huge deal to her, but there’s no need for making herself sick over it.

After a moment of her just staring at me, I speak again, “I don’t think Toph intended to make you cry, love. He’s just a normal person.”

“Excuse me, Damon?” I look beside me to see Mimi looking at me.

Turning to face her a little, but putting an arm around Laura, I acknowledge her, “Yes?”

“She’s not like that because of Topher,” she states plainly before turning back to my husband.

I stare at her, confused, for a couple seconds as she and Nancy are searching through their purses. When it dawns on me, I’m sure I look like a right twit.

Turning my head toward Laura, I place the hand that’s not around her shoulder on my chest, “Me?”

Tears gather in her eyes as she nods. I’m not sure if she can reply, or if she wants to, but she still hasn’t uttered a word.

That’s a bit of a shock. I’m not that well known. The movie hasn’t even come out yet.

“Oh love,” I chuckle happily. “I’m very flattered, but there’s no need to make yourself sick. I would rather see you smile.”

She nods.

“Alright. Well, in that case, do you have a camera on your mobile?” I step away to get a better look at her.

She nods quickly and starts digging in her purse before pulling it out and handing it to me. Chuckling, I hand it back, “How about you pull up the camera app? I don’t want to intrude.”

Her cheeks turn pink as she presses on her screen. Once the camera is out she hands me the phone again without so much as a sound.

“Here’s the deal,” I tell her, taking the device, “I will take a picture of the both of us with this if you smile. Then you have to say something in a complete sentence without getting hysterical. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes,” she squeaks as a huge grin appears.

Moving next to her, I sling my arm around her waist, “See now that’s much better. You’re a very lovely girl, don’t hide your smile.”

Extending my arm with the mobile, I press my face close to hers and count down before pressing the button and taking the picture. Before she can pull away, I say, “One more. This time pull a funny face.” This time, after the countdown I put my tongue out to the side and crossed my eyes. Handing her back the mobile, I pat her on the back once, “There you are, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiles again as she places her phone back in her bag. “We went to see a special viewing of your movie on Tuesday and it was amazing. You’re my favorite.”

“Thanks,” I tell her with a genuine smile. “I’m really glad you liked it. Would you like to get a picture of all of us now?”

She nods as we rejoin the rest of the group.

“Do we have anyone to take the picture?” my husband questions as he snakes an arm around my waist.

“My dad is coming out of the store now,” Mimi points toward a confused looking middle aged man. “He’ll take it.”

The girl calls out to her father, motioning for him to join us. After a bit of explanation from the teenagers, the gentleman accommodates us. The classic countdown turns into the stereotypical photograph of a group of people smiling. It’s a bit dry, but the girls seem happy.

“One more, yea?” Toph raises an eyebrow as I suggest it. “It felt a bit dry. I think we should make it better.”

“How?” Nancy asks with a smile on her face.

Turning to Laura, I shoot her a wink before continuing, “By pulling a funny face.”

“What does that mean?” Nancy’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline.

Topher chuckles, “He means make a funny face. Like, be silly.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” I turn to my husband and frown.

He shakes his head, but no one answers me as we get back into the picture formation. Mimi, Laura, and Nancy duck in front of us a little as Toph and I stand behind arms on each other’s backs.

At the countdown, I pull the same face I did with my picture with Laura. Or, at least, I try. My attempt fails when I feel Toph’s lips on my cheek. Then, my jaw drops and my eyes slide to the side in effort to see my husband’s face.

I think I’m still surprised after the photo is taken and everyone is talking. It’s not the fact that he’s kissed me. He kisses me all the time. It’s the fact that he did it for the photograph. We’re in public where anyone can see us. Apparently, he doesn’t care.

When my mind makes its way back to the conversation, I hear my husband say, “Can you guys put it on twitter? You can tag us and something else so we know it’s you.”

“What else did you want it tagged with?” Nancy’s face lights up at the suggestion.

Smiling, I finally join in, “How about Tophamon?”

“Perfect,” my husband concedes, “that way we can find it later when we get home.”

“You guys are amazing!” Mimi shouts as she stuffs the camera back in her bag.

“Alright girls, let’s let these young men get to where they’re going. They don’t need us holding them up,” the girl’s father puts a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I’m sure they have more important things to do.”

“Nothings more important than fans,” I give them each a smile before we say our goodbyes.

Deciding I can walk on my own now, I grab my husband’s hand as we make our way to the bar once again.

We walk in silence, but it feels sort of strange to be so comfortable with just one person. It’s nice to not have to watch your back or wonder what everyone thinks of you. Maybe what I really needed was someone to show us support. Someone we didn’t know or wasn’t paid to interview us. Someone that was a genuine fan and that still liked us even though we love each other.

Our fans, the best fans in the world.

Just as we approached his family’s bar, I pulled him to a stop before we enter. He smiles as he turns to face me; a real smile, one that makes my heart ache.

“I love you,” I tell him as I stare into his crystal blue eyes.

He leans forward slightly and plants a peck on my lips, “I love you too.”

I didn’t need to tell him anything more than that because he understood. For some reason, he understands that I want to say a million things, but can’t. He understands that behind my words there are a million meanings. He understands all that because he’s my husband. But most of all, he’s my best friend.