Present Perfect (46 page)

She walked up to our table, not acknowledging any of us. “Our table is ready.”

“I’ll be right there.”

She looked at the faces around our table and then landed on me. “Hey Amanda, how’s the leg?”

“Still lost.”

Brooke liked to bring up my amputated leg a lot, but only when Noah was around. She wanted to appear as if she had a caring heart while at the same time reminding Noah that I was damaged goods.

She wrapped her scrawny hands around Noah’s muscular arm and said, “Come on before somebody else steals our table.”

“Go sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.” She huffed and puffed, and stomped off. “Tweet, outside.” He turned and walked away, not waiting for me.

Once outside, I found Noah running his hand through his hair a few times. “Who is that asshole?”

“He’s not an asshole. He was just joking around. He does that.”

“He likes joking around about fucking you?” His voice was harsh and angry. I wasn’t sure where this was coming from. “Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Fucking you?”

“Where the hell is this coming from? Dalton and I are friends. He was joking around. What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t like guys talking about you like that. I don’t like him.”

“Well, I do like him and he’s helping get me through all this shit I’m dealing with right now. I need him.” It wasn’t my intention, but I could tell my words were like a punch in the stomach.

“You used to need me.” The hurt in his eyes crushed me.

“Noah, I always need you. It’s just... Dalton understands exactly what I’m going through. This is ridiculous. I’ve watched Brooke climb all over you every chance she gets and she loves to constantly remind me that I have a limb chopped off. Now I have someone in my life to take…”

“My place?”

“No. No one will ever take your place. Why can you have someone and I can’t?”

He leaned in so close, our noses were touching. “May I remind you, sweetheart, I never wanted someone else. That was your call.” He pushed passed me and headed back into the café.

The rest of the weekend went a lot better. Lisa and I went shopping Saturday and we met up with Dalton for dinner that night and a movie. It was great having Lisa around. I missed having her near. Even though we texted and talked every few days on the phone it wasn’t the same as being together. She packed up her car and headed to Florida to meet some friends for spring break.

It was Sunday night before Monday chemo. Dalton and I were hanging out at the apartment. We had ordered pizza and were listening to music. We had started spending the Sunday before our
on
weeks together. Chemo was bad enough, but the night before was a close second. That’s when the dread set in because you knew the next week was going to be hell. Dalton and I helped each other focus on other things on those particular Sundays.

“You’re right, grasshopper. Lifehouse is a hell of a group.”

“Ah, the student becomes the master and the master becomes the student.” Dalton picked up a pillow from the sofa and popped me with it.

I started gathering up our leftover pizza to put in the kitchen. “So why aren’t you and Mr. Perfect together?” My head snapped involuntarily in his direction.

“Wow! Not into subtle transitions, are you?”

“I don’t have time for that shit. Answer the question.”

“Um…” I sat back down on the sofa.

“Small dick? Is that what it is?” He tilted his head to the side with mock sympathy across his face.

“No,” I said.

“Dick too big? You know a lot of people think it’s size that matters, but that’s not true. You could be hung the size of a baseball bat, but if you don’t know how to swing it, then it’s just a dried up piece of wood. If you know what I mean,” he said, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head again. I just stared at him. The things that came out of his mouth sometimes were truly amazing and not in a good way.

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated? He gets nekkid. You get nekkid and…” He suddenly stopped talking in mid-sentence. I looked over concerned. He was staring straight ahead, not moving. I knew he had had seizures before and thought he might be having one now.

“Dalton? Are you okay?”

Keeping his gaze still and focused ahead, he held up his index finger and said, “Hold on…I’m still picturing you nekkid.”

Slapping his upper arm, I yelled, “Dammit Dalton! That’s not funny.”

“So where was I? Oh yes. You both get nekkid and get bizzzaaay.” He paused for a moment, looking at me with sincerity. Seriously, what’s the deal?”

I let out a deep sigh and debated whether or not to answer his question.

“Noah and I have always been best friends. I need him in my life. If we were to cross that line and something happened to break us up, I wouldn’t be able to survive it. I would rather keep him in my life as a friend, than risk losing him completely. And I would lose him because I would do something to ruin things. I always do.”

Dalton studied my face for a few seconds. I saw his eyebrows slowly scrunch together, his eyes narrowed at me as his lips formed in to a straight line. “Amanda, that is the stupidest and lamest shit I have ever heard.”

“It’s true. My sister and her friend dated and it ended badly. They hate each other now. Emily is perfect at everything. If she couldn’t make it work then I sure as hell can’t. Noah deserves better than that.”

He twisted his entire body around to face me. “Ah young grasshopper...perfection is an illusion nurtured by insecurities.” I looked at him as if he had gone insane. “Emily’s not perfect.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. She’s got a crazy left eye.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I noticed it the first time I met her. I looked her in the eye. Her right eye looked at me, but that left eye was all over the place. It freaked me out.” He made a goofy face and rolled his eyes all around, causing me to laugh out loud.

“I’ve never noticed that before.”

“Maybe the guy she was dating got freaked out by the crazy eye.”

“I don’t know. She never said what happened.”

“Now that we have established that Emily is a circus freak and not perfect, you can’t use her as an excuse. So, answer the question.”

We sat there several minutes before I was able to answer. I wasn’t comfortable talking to Dalton about Noah, but once he started a conversation, he wouldn’t let it go.

“I’ve never measured up to be what I feel he deserves and now with the amputation and cancer…I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Stop making excuses because you’re scared. Why don’t you let him decide the type of life he wants and who he wants in it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve met a lot of people in my life and I don’t like any of them. I like you. I knew we were going to be friends, the second I saw you walk into chemo. You’re smart, funny, and hot. You don’t act like a girl and make a big deal when I cuss. Amanda, you can’t do anything about the past and people like us, don’t know if we have a future. The past doesn’t exist anymore. All we have is the present. The present’s perfect, young grasshopper, because we’re breathing, moving, laughing, crying, and are surprised when we finally meet someone we connect with. Stop living in the past and wasting your present. You need to tell Noah how you feel.”

“What if it’s too late and Brooke is the one who makes him happy.”

“It doesn’t matter. He deserves to know how he impacted your life. He gave you a gift. You know what it feels like to love someone. That doesn’t come along every day, at least not the real kind. You need to go thank him for that before you have to say goodbye. Everyone deserves a thank you and goodbye.”

The recognition I felt when he said those last few words ran like a shockwave through me. I wrote that exact same thing in my journal when Noah’s dad died.

Looking over at Dalton, there was something different between us, a deeper connection. I felt like something had changed or was about to change between us.

“
Come Away With Me”
by Nora Jones started flowing out of the speakers. Dalton stood, holding his hand out to me. “Let’s try out that new leg. Dance with me,” he said.

I slid my hand into his. He led me to the middle of the room. As I stepped into his chest, we wrapped our arms around each other. I laid my head on his shoulder as he lowered his and rested it between my neck and shoulder.

As the sultry voice of Nora Jones continued to swirl around the room, we began to sway. The movement was so slight, it was almost imperceptible. I closed my eyes and let the feel of the music and his body against mine take me over. Present perfect.

As the song started to end, Dalton whispered in my ear, “I’m so glad I was here long enough to meet you. Thank you for giving me someone to miss.”

We pulled apart slightly, but kept our arms wrapped around each other.

“I wouldn’t be able to get through this without you. The one good thing about all of this has been that you were brought into my life.” He leaned his forehead against mine and we stayed this way for several minutes after the song had ended.

Dalton lifted his head, kissed my forehead and whispered, “I better go.”

He walked toward the door. Before opening it, he turned and looked at me. “Always remember present perfect, grasshopper.” A beautiful smile appeared on his face before he turned away and left.

It had been a week since Dalton and I had danced together at the apartment. Something changed that night between us or maybe I just finally realized it that night. Dalton was my soul mate. I was supposed to meet him when I did. Dalton and cancer had forced me to think differently, see the world differently, and see myself differently.

No, I wasn’t perfect and never would be, but that’s fine. There are more important things in life than chasing after this myth of a worldwide perception of perfection. Perfect is in the eye of the beholder. I had wasted enough time trying to control things in my life and it was exhausting. The only thing I could control was myself. If I put myself out there and got hurt, then I got hurt. At least it shows I’m still here and not living with regret.

So, here I am standing in front of his door, ready to put myself out there. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, hopefully something would come to me. I had just texted him, letting him know, I was standing at his door. I raised my hand and knocked. When he opened the door all the breath left my body. He stood there shirtless, in worn jeans, and his hair was tousled. We stared at each other. Even though I had texted him, he looked surprised, he had no idea why I was there. I took in a deep breath. The time had come, no regrets.

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the first moment we met. I love you deeper every time I see you. And, I know the timing is awful, but there’s never a perfect time. So, no matter what happens, I needed you to know how I feel.” I finally exhaled.

He looked completely stunned. My instinct was to get the hell out of there, but I stayed and waited for his response.

It felt like we stood there for hours before he whispered, “Tweet…”