Love to Love Her YAC (41 page)

I
’ve never changed
clothes so fast. It’s like I’m afraid I’m dreaming and I’ll wake up
any second now. I’m terrified she’ll be gone when I get back out
there. I rifle through my drawers and pull out the first pair of
pants and shirt I see.

I have to confess I’m shocked. I didn’t
expect her to see her again so soon—I figured, or at least I hoped,
she would show up eventually, but certainly not
today
. Had I
known she was coming I would’ve tidied the place up a bit, maybe
had some Fanta on hand or some mood-setting music playing in the
background. Not
that
kind of mood-setting…I didn’t lure her
here to have sex with her—not that I’d put up much of a fight if it
came to that.

When I’m dressed I go to the bathroom and
clutch the sink basin, blinking at myself in the mirror while
trying to get a grip on my nerves. I run a hand back through my
hair. I wish there was time to brush my teeth and shave, but the
urgency of the situation—real or imagined—wins out.
It’s
time
.

Rhiannon – 12:50 PM

W
hen Blake comes out
he’s dressed in the same olive drab henley he wore on the first
night we met. I wonder if he did it on purpose. I bite my lip as
the memories come flooding back. I sincerely hope he has something
good to tell me, although his nervous expression isn’t exactly
inspiring confidence.

He seems to relax just slightly when he sees
me sitting on the couch, my feet curled up beneath me. I’ve removed
my jacket, scarf and shoes, taking him at his word when he told me
to make myself at home. It’s a little chilly in here—guys’
apartments are always colder, I’ve noticed. My hands are clasped
around my shins as I tuck into myself for warmth.

He walks over and sits a few feet down from
me on the couch. Having him here next to me, it’s almost as if the
last month didn’t happen, as if we’re in some parallel universe
where none of the bullshit we’ve faced ever existed. I wish I could
hold on to this feeling for a while longer and just forget
everything that happened to bring us to this point.

Well, maybe not everything
.

He leans forward in a familiar pose, his
elbows on his knees, his head turned to the side, facing me. The
lean muscles of his upper body and arms straining beneath his thin
shirt serve as a welcome distraction.

“So…” he says, “What did you think of my
letter?”

I inwardly roll my eyes—I came here so
he
could do the talking, not the other way around. But
whatever, I’ll bite.

“I thought it was…very nice. And thank you—it
actually meant a lot.”

He nods. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

Is he stalling? I didn’t come here to
chitchat…

“It was really good.” A giggle escapes me.
“You’ll never guess who showed up, actually.”

His eyes darken as if he’s expecting me to
tell him something he doesn’t want to hear. “Who?”

“Well, Spencer and his family came, and
Spencer brought a
date
.” I smile smugly, waiting for him to
guess.

He grins as he leans back against the couch,
more at ease. “Who was it? The suspense is killing me.”

“I’ll give you a hint—it’s someone we both
know.”

“Was it Corinne?” He says it as if she would
be the natural choice.

“How did you guess?!” I exclaim, taken
aback.

He laughs. “I’ve had my eye on those two for
a while. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

I shake my head. “Unbelievable. I don’t know
how I didn’t see this coming.”

He clears his throat, suddenly more sober.
“How is Tawny doing?”

I inhale deeply, letting my lungs expand with
air. “She’s…okay. Tired, weak, a little sick from the chemo. But
she’s pulling through like a champ.”

“I’m glad.”

We fall quiet for several beats. When Blake
opens his mouth to speak again his eyebrows are knitted together in
intense concentration. “Rhiannon—not that this is any of my
business… But I just wondered—you and that guy…” His voice trails
off as he looks to me to save him from having to go on.

“You mean Andy?”

He nods once, shifting uncomfortably.
Watching him squirm is sort of cute and tragic all at the same
time. I’m not that sadistic though, so I don’t waste any time
putting him out of his misery.

“That’s…not happening. At least not anymore.
I’ve talked to him so he’s aware.” I hadn’t meant that last
statement to come out sounding quite so accusatory, but it is what
it is. I press my lips together to keep from speaking anymore.

Blake – 12:59 PM

T
hank
God
.

Rhiannon – 1:00 PM

“I
s that what you
wanted to talk about?” I ask evenly, hoping, hoping, hoping he says
no.

“No.”
Thank you, Jesus
.

“Your letter said you had something to tell
me,” I remind him.
Enough beating around the bush
already.

Blake nods. Suddenly he scoots closer, until
he’s only inches away and his piney peppermint scent makes it
difficult to think straight. He drapes his right arm across the
back of the sofa behind me and twists to look at me, reaching
across his body to place his left hand on his right knee. He looks
at me appraisingly, gauging my reaction, whether I’m okay with his
proximity. I unflinchingly hold his gaze, perhaps even
subconsciously leaning forward a fraction of an inch. His posturing
makes it feel like he’s about to share a secret with me, and I’m
almost of a mind to proffer my ear so he can whisper it.

“If you read my letter you should already
have a pretty good idea how I feel about you,” he says. His voice
is quiet and deep, and it causes something long dormant to stir
inside me. “Having you here…I feel like I’m dreaming.” He chuckles
a little as he casts his eyes downward for a second. His long,
thick eyelashes catch the light streaming through the windows, and
his eyes almost seem to sparkle.

When he looks back up, his eyes still hold
the warmth from his smile, but his mouth is set in a determined
line, indicating his sincerity. “I’ll never be able to tell you how
sorry I am for screwing up like I did. I promised you in the letter
I would try to make it up to you if you’d let me, and I stand by
that. But there’s one other thing I need you to understand—and that
is, why it’s so important to me.”

He picks up my hand in his and gives it a
squeeze, watching my eyes. I’m not able to characterize the
multitude of emotions swirling inside my head—all I can do is
stare. After a moment he lifts my hand and places it against his
chest…against his heart.

“It’s important,” he says, “because I’m in
love you.”

Blake – 1:06 PM

T
he ticking of the
clock, the hum of the refrigerator, the steady swoosh of traffic
out on the street—these are the only sounds. Time stands still, and
I’ve never felt more serene than I do right now. Some small piece
of me waits for her response out of simple curiosity, but the
largest part of me has found its peace. I hope like anything she
returns the sentiment—if not now then someday. But what matters
most in this moment is that she knows how
I
feel… And now,
finally, she does.

1:08 PM

S
ometime later, her
face begins to change. The astonishment is gradually replaced by
something else—the tilt of her head, the beginnings of a smile. She
drags her teeth across her perfect bottom lip as the glow spreads,
touching not only her mouth but her eyes.

“You love me?” she whispers.

“I do. I love you,” I reply, smiling. “I love
you so fucking much it actually kind of hurts.”

She laughs—I’ve never heard anything more
magical sounding.

“I’m sorry, that must suck.”

I grin. “It’s a good kind of hurt.”

She nods, her face still lit with that
dazzling smile of hers. “I think I know just what you mean.” She
sighs, then unfolds her legs from beneath her. She swings her hips
around to place her legs in my lap and reaches up to hold my face
in her hands. Her touch is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

Slowly I move my hand from the back of the
couch and wrap it around her shoulders, drawing her closer. She
gazes into my eyes as if she’s trying to divine the very secrets of
the universe from their depths. Her thumb rubs across my lower lip,
and when she leans in to touch her forehead against mine she utters
the only words I’ll ever need to hear.

“I love you, too.”

Rhiannon – 2:00 PM

“O
h just
look
at that lighthouse! Rich, come over here and see. Look how
beautiful
it is!” Mom has been fawning over the photos from
Blake’s and my vacation to the Outer Banks for the past half hour,
and I can tell Dad is getting weary of having to leave the grill
unattended to come and peer over her shoulder every five seconds.
He takes it all in stride, though, offering an obligatory “ooh” or
“aah” when called upon.

Blake officially earned his Master’s in
Social Work two weeks ago. His mom and I were in attendance,
clapping and cheering as he was hooded and handed his diploma. The
next day we hopped a plane for the East Coast—a first for both of
us. There we spent ten glorious days swimming, sunbathing, fishing
and eating seafood. It’s hard to believe this holiday weekend marks
the end of our vacation—soon it will be back to reality.

In two days Blake starts his new job with the
Division of Child and Family Services in Carson City—it isn’t his
dream position within the organization, but there is definitely the
potential to progress towards it. As for me, I’ll be nannying for a
trio of little girls through the summer until time to start student
teaching at Mark Twain Elementary in August. By this time next year
I’ll be a legit schoolteacher.

It’s a beautiful day for a cookout—the sky is
bright and blue, and there isn’t a cloud in view for miles and
miles. The sun might be uncomfortably warm, were it not for the
pleasant breeze sailing in from the west. It seems a fitting start
to the summer.

Dad flips the last of the burgers as Mom
finishes with the photo album. She shuts it with a wistful sigh and
pats my hand. “I’m so glad for you, honey. It looks like you had an
amazing time.”

“Looks like who had an amazing time?” We look
up to see Blake coming around the side of the house with Tawny on
his back. She’s laughing hysterically at something, and her face is
flushed red. Blake stoops to let her drop to the deck, and she
reluctantly lets go of his neck to slide off. For the umpteenth
time this weekend I think how
healthy
she looks. She’s
regained so much of her strength and energy; each time I’ve seen
her over the past six months, I’ve been astounded at how much
better she looks than the last time. Thanks to the chemo and
radiation, her cancer is now back in remission, and she can live
like a regular teenager again. She celebrated her sixteenth
birthday last week.

“I was just looking at your vacation
pictures,” Mom says to Blake as she eyes Tawny questioningly. “It
does my heart good to know you’re making time to see these things
while you’re still young.” Blake smiles at me and winks. I grin
back, thinking again how radiantly happy I am.

“Food’s up,” says Dad, dropping a platter of
hot dogs and burgers on the table. A flurry of activity ensues as
we all take our seats and begin passing plates and bowls and
silverware.

Halfway through the meal, Blake nudges me
with his foot beneath the table. I cast him a sidelong glance—he
smiles back at me reassuringly. I set down my silverware slowly
then clear my throat. “Blake and I have something we wanted to tell
you all,” I announce.

I look around the table at their expectant
faces and almost bust out laughing when I see my dad’s expression
of horror—his jaw hangs open mid-chew, and the color has drained
from his usually tanned face. Blake squeezes my knee, his way of
encouraging me to go on and set my dad at ease.

“We’ve decided to move in together,” I say.
“We talked about it, and it just seems to make sense financially.
We’ve looked at rentals online, and we’re thinking of getting a
townhouse.”

Mom is the first to speak. Her smile seems a
bit forced, but it’s still better than what I had prepared for.
“Are you sure this is want you want to do, sweetheart? Your father
and I don’t want you rushing into anything you’re not ready for
just to save money. You know we’ll help support you if we need
to.”

I open my mouth to speak, but Dad interrupts
before I have the chance. “Are you sure that’s the
only
reason you want to move in together?”

Blake stifles a chuckle and drums his fingers
against my leg, essentially tagging himself into the conversation.
I sit back, more than happy to let him take it from here.

“We want to live together because it will
save us both some money, but even more than that because it’s the
logical next step in our relationship—we spend all our time
together anyway. We’ve talked about it a lot, and we both feel
ready for this. Those are the reasons—the
only
reasons.”

My dad exhales, visibly relieved. Mom smiles,
evidently contented with Blake’s answer, and Tawny offers me a high
five.
Whew
.

Blake – 8:30 PM

R
hiannon is sprawled
out in one of the lounge chairs on the back deck watching the sun
set when I walk outside. She starts a little when she hears the
door sliding shut behind me, but her face lights with a smile when
she turns around and sees me.

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt,” I say as I
sit down in the chair next to her. She stands and turns, then
lowers herself into my lap. I wrap my arms around her tightly and
breathe in the scent of her shampoo, elated as always to have her
pressed so close against me.