Touch (7 page)

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Authors: Sarah White

BOOK: Touch
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Chapter 16

 

Noah
             

I thought that playful Leah was my favorite, but now focused Leah has stolen my heart. I love the way she is taking my dissertation so seriously and how hopeful she looks every time the couple on the video touches. I already know how their story ends; Leah will be disappointed when they decide to go their separate ways at the end of the fifth session. I’m following along on my own sheet of paper, but to be honest my attention is more focused on this new assistant of mine than on the video. Luckily, I know this session like the back of my hand.

              When the video is over Leah hands me her coding sheet with a very cute smile and I compare our notes. We are perfectly in sync, but somehow I already knew we would be. I’m not sure what it means, but I do know that it threatens to break down a wall I have built to keep my heart safe.

              “It’s perfect,” I finally say as I tuck our sheets back into the manila folder on the table. I hit eject on the DVD player and Leah stands up and stretches her legs. “I think you can do them on your own now. I’ll spot check a few here and there to make sure you’re coding in a way that’s consistent with the other assistants. For now, though, how about we get out of here and get some ice cream?”                           

“That sounds great!”

We quickly get ready and head out into the night for the short walk to the ice cream parlor. As we pass Dragon, Jason emerges, loaded down with another order.

“Hey Noah,” he says. His eyes take Leah in and a knowing smile curves his lips. “This your friend?”

“Yes. This is Leah. Leah, this is Jason.” Leah smiles at him and gives him a little wave.

“Nice to meet you, Jason. That was the best take-out I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you. It’s my parents’ restaurant. I just do the heavy lifting.” He raises the bags to prove his point. “I’d better go before the food gets cold. See you soon.” Hurrying past us, he climbs into his Prius and pulls away from the curb.

“He seems nice,” Leah says as we reach the ice cream shop. The bell above the door sounds and a young worker comes out from the back room. We order our cones and take a seat at one of the tables inside.

“Jason’s a cool guy. When he isn’t rushing out to another delivery he sometimes stops to watch a few minutes of whatever game is on. His parents are very traditional. I think he enjoys getting out and having a little freedom.”

“What do you mean by ‘traditional’?” Leah captures a drop of melted ice cream from the side of her cone with her tongue. I thought being close to her in the apartment was intense, but I hadn’t even considered what it might be like to watch her licking an ice cream.

I clear my throat and try hard to focus on our conversation. “They want him to work hard and spend all his free time studying. He doesn’t get much say in what he wants to do with his life.”

“How is that even possible? He’s an adult.”

“It’s not like he’s a prisoner or anything; he just believes his parents know best. They have a lot invested in his future since he’s their only child. When he talks about them it’s never with anything but appreciation.” I take another lick, trying to keep the drips under control.

“Does he ever get to go out? Date? Anything?”

I chuckle and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Yes, he goes out. He dates, but it’s a girl that his parents have pretty much chosen for him.” Her eyes widen with disbelief. I shrug my shoulders.

“He’s happy with the woman they chose. Her family and his have known each other a long time and they believe their children will be content and successful together. They attend the same church, their families come from the same area, and they’re at the age where there’s pressure to start building their own family.”

Leah licks her lips clean. “What if they don’t fall in love?”

I actually asked Jason something similar once, but of course I’m a guy, so my question was more along the lines of what would happen if he didn’t find her attractive. “Jason told me that physical attraction isn’t something that’s really important for him. He looks at it like a good business deal. If their families want them together, and they both have a lot to offer in terms of their potential to contribute to a happy, healthy, stable household, everything else will fall together.”

“Do you think that’s true? Do you believe they’ll make it work even if they weren’t mad for each other in the beginning?” She pauses, her lips suspended above her dwindling scoop of chocolate.

“Actually, arranged marriages work for a lot of people. And Jason and his girlfriend have it better than a lot of people in arranged relationships in that he agrees with the pairing and he likes her. Other cultures do commitment differently than we do here.”

              Leah thinks about it for a minute. “I guess you might be in a clearer position to look at your proposed partner if your head wasn’t clouded by lust. Sometimes that has you overlooking things that are actually very important when it comes to compatibility.” She uses one of the napkins to wipe a drop of ice cream off the back of my hand.

              “To each his own. Do you think your parents would pick a good match for you?” I ask. She shakes her head and finishes the last of her cone. 

              “My parents didn’t like Lyle at first. He’s grown on them, but I don’t think he’s who they would want for me.” She crumples up her napkin and tosses it in the nearby trash. “What about you? Would your parents pick a good match?”

              “I don’t know,” I shrug again. “My mother has always said that I’d need a woman who was independent, since my career is going to take a lot of my time. She wants someone who is honest and would be committed.” I realize those traits are also what I would be looking for. “She also would want someone who wouldn’t be a quitter. I think she’d choose a woman who would dig in for the fight.” I give Leah a wink as I finish my cone and toss the wrapper in the trash behind her.

* * *

              Back at the apartment, we kick off our shoes and head for the couch. I’m pleased to see that even though it’s getting late, she isn’t headed straight to bed. I reach for the remote and switch on the TV.

I put my feet up on the coffee table and rest my arm against the back cushions. As we scan through the cable guide she leans into me and puts her feet up on the table next to mine.

              When a documentary on autism grabs our attention, I set the remote down and let myself sink a little lower into the couch. As if we do this every night, Leah shimmies down into the cushions and rests her head back against the crook of my arm.

              As the time slips by we both seem to melt further into each other and I feel myself running my fingers through her hair absently. Her hand is resting innocently on my leg. I wonder if other men and women have this type of friendship. It feels natural and yet exciting, but maybe that’s because as this is uncharted territory for me. 

              I don’t have any women that I’m just friends with. I have a few colleagues, but no one that I would feel comfortable with like this. There’s always a professional line, or a disinterest when it comes to the other women in my life. With Leah, it’s different. I want to hold her and spend time with her. I want to know what she’s thinking. Listening to people all day can leave me exhausted, but right now I would stay up all night to hear her speak about her life. My instincts tell me I’m approaching dangerous territory, but my heart and body want to see where it takes me.

              By the time the credits roll, Leah has fallen asleep in my arms. I’m tired, too, but I can’t bring myself to let her go. I use my feet to lift hers and I twist so that we are both fully on the couch. She wakes up for a minute but is not fully present, so I scoot down and rest my head on the pillows. She looks around with sleepy eyes and lies back down, this time resting her face in the crook of my neck.

I wrap my arms around her and kick the blanket from the back of the couch to cover our bodies. I glide my hand down her head to tuck away the hair that is tickling my face. At least that’s why I tell myself I’m doing it. It sounds a lot less convincing on the fourth or fifth pass. 

I softly kiss the top of her head before resting my cheek against her. It won’t mean anything if she is asleep.

             

Chapter 17

 

Leah

              “Hey, Henry. How’s it coming along?” I poke my head into my apartment, where Henry is helping to pull up the damaged carpet.

              “It’s going good. We ordered the new carpet and the wood to replace the sections that got warped. Not too much longer now.” He pulls off his work gloves and wipes the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “I was able to order the new TV, and between you and me, I upgraded you for your troubles. Just don’t mention it to the owner.” He chuckles nervously and I mimic zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

              “Hey Henry, we’ve got a problem here!” One of the workers calls from the bedroom. Henry excuses himself, looking alarmed, but inwardly I find myself celebrating. 

              I’ve been checking in daily, and I’ve had mixed feelings about how quickly the place is coming together. I love living with Noah and I suspect that my dream of being happy in an apartment of my own is not going to be what I thought it was. There’s something fantastic about sitting on the counter in the kitchen with a glass of wine while Noah cooks us dinner. I’m not sure I’m ever going to want to give that up.

              I don’t know what you would call the relationship that Noah and I have right now. It is definitely a friendship; we are learning more about each other every day. It’s also something a little more than that, too. I feel myself drawn to him and in some way in tune with his thoughts already. I know it isn’t a romantic relationship in the traditional sense, but it’s fulfilling a need in me to be nurtured and cared for. It also feels like a deeper form of companionship than any other friendship I have ever experienced.

              Noah has become the first person I text when something funny happens or I need to vent. When my phone chimes I feel a rush when I think it might be from him. I know that all new relationships elicit a feeling of excitement, but what I feel being connected to him is significantly more exaggerated than a simple skip of my heart. I love that he makes me smile, can comfort me at my darkest times, and simply is genuine with his words.

              Lyle isn’t forgotten. The pain of what has happened between us is still raw. He reaches out from time to time to make sure I am okay. I’m beginning to understand that we had a relationship built on dependence. He’s struggling to be happy when I’m so hurt, but I guess it is just taking us a long time to realize that making me happy is not his responsibility. It’s mine.              

* * *

A tempting aroma is wafting from Noah’s kitchen as I drop my bags in the corner and I smile in anticipation as I slip off my shoes and follow it.

“Hi!” I call.

“Hey, Crash. How was your day?” The grin on Noah’s face hits me like a wave of warm energy and I immediately feel at home. With my hands behind me, I lift myself up onto the counter and reach for the glass of wine he offers me.

              “Better now.” I tip my glass up and let him believe that it might be the wine that is brightening my day, but he can probably guess that I’m pretty into him, too. His sleeves are rolled up and he’s barefoot, looking handsome and sexily disheveled as he cooks. His low voice makes my stomach flutter.

              “Good to hear. I take it your math test went well?” He takes a tray out of the oven and I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of freshly baked rolls.

              “Who would have thought learning to teach a subject I took in high school would be so difficult? I think I passed it. How was your day?” I melt further onto the counter, feeling my worries floating away from my body. I put my glass down and lean back on my hands.

              “Getting better by the minute,” he answers, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He returns his attention to plating the food. “I brought you another video to work on, by the way.”

              “Great! I can do it tonight, now that I’ve finished that stupid test and that essay.”

He carries our dishes to the table and I follow with our wine glasses. “I’m warning you though, Leah. They’re not always easy to watch. I don’t want you getting your hopes up.” His voice is playful but I can hear the concern he’s trying to hide.

“Oh, stop, Noah. I’m a big girl; I can handle it.”

              Throughout dinner I feel my pulse quicken every time our legs brush together. My craving to touch him is so strong, but he’s been clear about his boundaries with me. I know he doesn’t want a relationship and he knows I’m not the type to enjoy friends with benefits. For now we must both settle for friendship and try hard to push any other feelings away, no matter how badly we both want a taste of something more.

* * *

              With the dishes done and the kitchen tidy, Noah sets his laptop up at the table and I take his video out to the living room. I slide the DVD into the player, settle down on the couch with my clipboard and point the remote at the TV to start the session.

              Noah’s voice on the video rings out over the speakers.  He begins by asking them a version of what he calls the Miracle Question, “If you woke up tomorrow and a miracle had happened last night, what would your day be like? How would your relationship be different?”

              There is a quiet pause as the woman, Tara, chances a quick glance at her boyfriend, Marcus, and clears her throat. She looks at Noah for encouragement. She softly begins, “We would wake up in the same bed,” and then hesitates a minute, waiting for her boyfriend’s reaction. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and the sound of his chair creaking fills the living room.

              He looks to his partner with love in his eyes and my pen is poised, waiting for him to touch her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he answers, “She’d let me hold her hand again instead of worrying so much about what her friends think about our age difference.”

              Tara quickly turns her head toward Marcus and they lock gazes, the silence heavy between them. Then, Tara reaches her hand out to Marcus and rests it on his leg.

“Yes!” I pump my fist in triumph and pause the video to code it, smiling. I ignore the soft soft chuckle from Noah in the kitchen. I write down what was said and run the session back a few seconds to make sure I record the right time. Marcus and Tara clearly have some issues, but they reach out to each other several times over the course of the session and as the video comes to an end, I feel like this is a victory for my side.

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