-Is This Love by Bob Marley & The Wailers-

Mark was in love with Denise.

He skipped like and went all the way to love.

Mark couldn't sleep most of the night because he couldn't get it off of his mind. What if he was over analyzing?

He's been on the road with Denise for a couple of months now. Maybe being around a woman for so long was getting to his head. Then again, Denise wasn't just any woman.

Despite not having amorous physical interaction, their vulnerable talks were just as intimate, if not more. They didn't just talk about their feelings, but life experiences, regrets, mistakes, and the lessons they learned.

How they wanted to get better.

Falling in love with her didn't seem so far-fetched, giving their situation but, man, did it some so . . . cliche.

After tossing and turning all night, Mark managed to talk himself out of his feelings and fall asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he was met with the smell of bacon and music coming from downstairs.

With sleep still in his eyes, Mark went downstairs to the kitchen, where Denise was making pancakes and slow-jamming to Elvis' Can't Help Falling in Love. In a oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts, she moved her hips to the love ballad.

Mark found himself leaning in the doorway with a wide grin on his face. Talking himself out of his feelings instantly failed as he thought, "I could wake up to this forever."

It wasn't until Denise noticed Mark that he let out a fake yawn as if he hadn't been watching her for the last minute.

"Hey, you're awake!" she greeted him with a bright smile. Not at all embarrassed that he probably witnessed her dancing.

"And you're cooking," Mark came into the kitchen, slightly surprised.

When they camped out, he mostly did the cooking.

"Yeah, I woke up early and went to the store to get a few things. I was in the mood for some pancakes."

Mark cocked an eyebrow, eyeing her pancakes wearily. They were browner than usual hotcakes and had dark, crisp edges.

"So you obviously did not grow up eating the best pancakes in the world," said Denise as she placed a finished pancake on a plate.

"Teach me your ways," Mark whipped his hair out of his face as he sat on the counter.

"Okay, so, I've had a lot of nannies over the years. Most ended up leaving after seeing how crappy my parents were."

Mark squints, "wouldn't that make them want to stay?"

"I mean, I guess, but how long can you stick around something that you can't change?"

"Good point. Continue."

"So, my favorite nanny was Eleanor. She was with us for about three years until I was almost twelve. She taught me how to cook. The first thing she taught me was how to make pancakes, and even more so, how to make them better."

After pouring some vegetable oil into the pan, Denise puts in some pancake batter.

"You put cinnamon and nutmeg in the batter, and," she flips it over, "and the olive oil gives you the crunchy edge, unlike butter. Really it's the edges that make it so good. I don't trust pancakes without crispy edges."

"Makes sense why you always get french toast or waffles when we eat out."

Denise chuckles a bit.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just didn't think you noticed small things like that."

"Well, we're together all the time," Mark shrugged slightly. "I'm sure there are small things about me that you notice."

"Yeah," Denise's lips formed a broad grin, as she transferred the last pancake onto the plate. She turns off the stove, "you think before you speak - all the time. You think deeply about most things, if not everything. You think the most when I'm the one driving. You get this pensive, determined expression like you're trying to cure world hunger or something."

Denise smiles, "it's cute."

"Hm," Mark bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling.

"Why don't you set the table on the deck, and I'll make our eggs," she tells him.

"Sure," Mark nods.

With a contemplative look in his eyes, he watches her dance to Burning Love, on the way to the sink.

How was Mark supposed to tell Denise that he was in love with her? It took forever for her to even consider him a friend.

Then there was the possibility that she didn't even feel the same way. Friends can give each other compliments without it meaning something else.

What would make her want to be with him all after all the inner healing she's done? She hasn't even mentioned being open to date yet.

Confessing his love for her could ruin their friendship. Mark hated the tragic thought.

Denise hadn't even mentioned leaving like she did earlier on. His confession could tip over the boat.

But he wasn't going to let that happen.

He couldn't let it happen.

As crazy as it sounded, Mark didn't need to question his feelings. He was head over heels, and nothing could change that.

However, to keep their friendship, he needed to think about how he wanted to tell her and when. He needed to feel her out, see where she was mentally and emotionally. It could be a possibility that she wasn't looking for a relationship right now or even futuristically.

After the table was made and the food was set out, Denise went back into the house to look for something, leaving Mark to start eating without her.

Once he poured some syrup on his pancakes, Mark cuts himself a piece with his fork and eats it.

Barely two chews after, he pauses and stares at the pancake in awe, "holy shit."

"I told you," Denise joined him on the deck with an old soccer ball in her grasp.

The cinnamon and nutmeg gave the batter more flavor - like a baked good, and the crisp edges added more texture.

"Have you been holding out on me? What else can you make?" Mark asked her.

Denise laughs at how serious he was. She was the more charismatic one between the two. So it was interesting to see him so "oh my god."

She picks up a piece of bacon and takes a bite, "pretty much anything I put my mind too. I use to make anything and everything with Eleanor. Cookies, brownies, one time, we made these oyster tacos with this delicious remoulade sauce! I can still taste it."

"Oyster tacos?" Mark raised his eyebrows at her. "What kind of kid wants oyster tacos?"

"It was more the challenge of making something fancy that inspired me, thank you very much," Denise puts a forkful of cheese eggs in her mouth and then backs away from the table.

She starts juggling the soccer ball with her feet and knees and finds a rhythm faster than expected.

"I still got it," she kept going with an excited grin. "I left this thing here, years ago."

"You used to play?" Mark asked as he ate his food.

"Yeah, for a little while. Then I got into volleyball. My thighs looked so amazing back then."

"They still do," Mark thought to himself.

"Did you play any sports?" Denise caught the ball in her hands to take a break and eat some more of her food.

"I wrestled then got into ice hockey."

Denise tilted her head at him as she backed away from the table, "I can totally see you as a wrestler. In those tight ass uniforms."

Mark snickered as she begins juggling the soccer ball again. "You know, you keep holding out on me."

"How so?"

"You make yourself seem like this ordinary girl who has nothing special about her when, in reality, you're smart and multi-faceted. You can speak different languages, you were an athlete, you can sing, hell, you can cook."

Denise catches the soccer ball, looking at Mark. "What's your point?" she chuckled shyly.

She hated it when Mark looked at her like that. It made her feel . . . seen.

Little did she know he didn't just see who she was, but who she could be.

"Just that you weren't made to be a nobody. People like you aren't meant to be in the shadows."

"You mean people like us," she corrected him. "Isn't that why we're doing the YouTube thing?"

"Yeah," Mark nods thoughtfully.

There it was again - that thoughtful look in his eyes. There was more to how he felt, but he didn't say, and Denise wasn't going to ask him about it. He had already gotten her to do YouTube. She didn't want to know or be persuaded to do anything that would get her more known than she already was.

"So," she puts the soccer ball down and sits across from him at the table. "I was thinking we could spend the day at the pier. They have an amusement park. There's bumper cars, mini-golf, and an arcade. I can win you a bear, I was unmatched when I was younger."

"Yeah, sounds good," Mark was game.

It was unfortunate that her memories were mostly with her nanny and not her parents. But Mark still enjoyed hearing about times where she was happy.

__________

As planned, Denise and Mark started their day off with mini-golf. The friendly game sparked the competitive gene of the two athletes. However, the game ended on a tie. Next was Go-kart racing, and then they spent hours playing games.

The games were a lot harder then Denise remembered, causing her to realize she probably won a lot because she was a kid. In the end, she still had fun, and Mark won her teddy bear after kicking ass in basketball.

It was still a win, win.

After being out all day and eating a lot of junk food, the two decided to ride the carousel before heading back to the beach house.

Denise contently ate some pink cotton candy out of a bag, as they sat waiting on one of the benches of the carousel. People were still getting let on and finding their seats.

Meanwhile, Mark was rooted in his thoughts. He hadn't figure out how to ask her about her future. All this time, he could talk to her about anything, and now he was stuck - a little nervous even.

Luckily, Denise hadn't noticed.

"Want some?" she held the bag out to him and unknowingly pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Uh. . . " Mark squinted in bewilderment, remembering where he was.

"Are you having a stroke?" she raised her eyebrows at him, chuckling dryly.

Mark clears his throat, "sorry, uh, no thanks."

"Yeah, I'm over the sweets too," Denise popped another ball of the fluffy goodness into her mouth and closed the bag.

Mark shook his head at himself as he looked away.

While he went back to thinking, Denise noticed a little boy trying to climb on a horse. He couldn't have been more than five years old. He was so small that he didn't have the strength to pull himself up.

Helpless, he looked around for a sign of help, more specifically, his parents.

Denise followed his gaze to see that his parents were sitting on a bench across from the ride. Their eyes were glued to their phones.

Denise understood what he felt all too well.

People always glorify or are jealous of children in two-parent homes. Often, yes, they did turn out better than those with one parent. However, having two crappy parents is like having no parents at all.

"Hold this," Denise gives Mark the bag of candy.

She stands up and goes over to the kid, "you need help?"

He turns around and looks up at her.

With a desperate look in his eyes, he nodded quietly.

"Here you go," Denise helps him on the horse. "You good?"

Settled and comfortable, he nods as he held on to the gold pole. "Thank you," he said sweetly.

"You're welcome," Denise smiles.

She sits back next to Mark, letting out a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked her.

A smile appeared on her face again, "yeah, I actually am. Surprisingly."

Usually, when she saw a kid, she would lash out. This time she even engaged with a kid and didn't feel angry or bitter.

If anything, she felt bad for the kid. To grow up with parents who make you feel unloved and unworthy of attention was rough, and if you're not careful, it could ruin you for years. Alter how you see the world, relationships, and yourself.

She just hoped that it didn't have the be his story.

That his parents would come to their senses and do better.

__________

After a long but lively time, Mark and Denise ended the day at the beach. They sat on a blanket listening to the waves crash against the shore.

"You know, seeing that little boy today made me think of Eleanor," Denise spoke up.

Mark looks at her, listening attentively

"I'd lash out sometimes, unpredictably too. For almost any reason. I didn't know it then, but it was a cry for attention. It was the anger I was already building up at such a young age toward my parents. Eleanor, she would sit me down, talk firmly to me. Tell me I had every right to be upset, but not ruin things, get violent, or say horrible things. She tried to teach me to handle my emotions better, and it worked for a while."

"What happened?" Mark asked.

"My parents missed some school thing that I was a part of, and I just blew a fuse. I remember crying and screaming that I hated my parents. And I remember Eleanor grabbing me by the arms and telling me, 'one day you're gonna have to forgive your parents. One day you won't be able to use them as an excuse for your behavior.'"

"Very adult thing to say to a kid, don't you think?"

"I wasn't a normal kid. I understood a lot, and Eleanor knew that. She didn't downplay things to me just because I was a kid, and I always appreciated her for that. Now I realize that she knew I was going to turn out shitty before I did."

Denise shakes her head, recalling a memory, "not too long before she left, she asked me to promise to be better than my parents. To forgive them and let go of all the anger I felt."

"Did you say yes?" Mark asked.

Denise smiled mischievously, "yeah . . . with my fingers crossed behind my back."

Mark laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, "you were definitely not a normal kid."

"Yeah," Denise agreed with a slight chuckle.

"Have you forgiven your parents?"

"Sometimes I think I have, but then I imagine coming face to face with them, and all I see is red," Denise answered honestly. "I know that forgiveness is for you and not the other person, but when you're so used to your hatred and your bitterness, you don't know who you are without it. It's scary and annoying, having no one else to blame for your actions. To know you are the reason for how messed up you are too."

"It takes a lot for someone to be honest about that," Mark said proudly.

Not many people can admit that they are comfortable with their demons. It's easy to be bitter and angry and much harder to find peace and joy in such a chaotic world.

"So, what about you?" Denise looks at him. "You haven't really mentioned being angry with your family, would you like to see them again one day?"

"I came to peace with them a long time ago," explains Mark. "Life goes on outside of prison, so I really couldn't fault them for moving on. Part of me is glad that they did. I would like to see them one day. I miss them."

"You don't really talk about your family much. You guys were close, right?"

"Very close," Mark smiled as he reminisced. "I'm talking dinner at the table, they never missed a game, picnics camping trips with our two Labs, game nights, the whole gamut."

"Really?" Denise asked in intrigue.

"Yeah, one of my favorite things to do was go skiing with my dad in Aspen. It was away from the girls. We'd ski for hours then have dinner at the White Tavern."

"That's adorable, but oh my god, I'm cringing," Denise shuttered. "I hate the cold. It took me so long to get used to it in Mass. The cold there is relentless." She leaned her head on Mark's shoulder with a groan, "I hope I never have to go back there. Ever."

"Well, speaking of never going back there," Mark decided to take his chance. "Have you thought about your future, lately?"

Denise lifts her head to look at him with raised eyebrows.

"I mean, you did say you hadn't planned on staying around, and now we have a YouTube channel together -"

"You can't have Denise without Mark. Looks like you're stuck with me," she shrugged.

"Which I'm not complaining about," chuckled Mark. "But I mean, aside from YouTube and living on the road. What do you want, Denise? Where do you see yourself?"

"That is uh, a really good question," Denise gulped.

Not only did she feel put on the spot but nervous by the question.

A few months ago, she was just trying not to get killed by her ex-boyfriend. Now she had a YouTube channel, a friend, and had healed from some stuff more importantly.

Denise was becoming a better person and falling in love with who she was.

Considering she was hesitant about doing YouTube, she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life.

Realizing she had been quiet for the last minute, she chuckled shyly.

"I uh, I don't know."

She thoughtfully turned her attention back to the ocean, dwelling on the question.

Mark kept his eyes on her, not disappointed by her answer.

It gave him more relief that she didn't know, rather than having a plan to move on and find a life without him.

Denise might not have known what her future looked like.

But one thing for sure, every time Mark looked at her, all he saw was his future.