True L̶o̶v̶e̶ Story (27 page)

He opens the box to see another box inside—a small wooden box with intricate carvings on the outside. It’s a beautiful piece of art in itself, handmade by a guy I saw at an outdoor artisan fair.

“Look inside,” I urge.

When he opens the box, his breath hitches. There are 100 guitar picks in every color. Some of them have small pictures of me, some have both of us. Others have a sparrow on them. He runs his fingers through them and studies each one. He doesn’t say a word. I thought he’d laugh and maybe toss them out in his playful way, but his face is serious as he looks at all of them.

“This is the best present I’ve ever been given,” he says softly. When he looks at me, his eyes water. I’ve never seen him get teary. “I love this. Thank you, Sparrow.”

“You’re welcome. I’m so glad you like them.” I feel shy all of a sudden.

He kisses me, his brow crinkled in either concentration or passion. I’m not sure which, but he means it, either way.

“Okay. One more for you. Know that if you don’t like this, we can do something else.”

I frown at him. “Don’t be silly. It’s wrapped so pretty. What is it?” I give it a good shake.

“Open it!”

I tear it open, unable to unwrap as carefully as he does. Inside is a sterling silver charm bracelet with hanging charms. It’s wonderful. Each charm makes me smile and love him more. There’s a cupcake, a book, a tiny replica of the houseboat, a sparrow and the only thing with color are two red bows spaced between the other charms.

“We were on the same wavelength with that,” he says as he fingers the red bows, “I just couldn’t figure out how to portray ‘raw’ with a charm.”

Hilarious.

“I love it, Ian. So much. It’s perfect.” I hold it up for him to put it on me. He kisses the inside of my wrist before he latches the clasp. “This is the best present
I’ve
ever been given.”

We’re kissing when my parents come out. They’re shocked that we opened our presents without them, but when they see how happy we are, they can’t stay perturbed.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Ian sings in place of a greeting.

“Oh, just you wait. We’re just getting started,” my dad sings back.

- 20 -

Minnesota really is a winter wonderland. I didn’t know there could be so much snow in one place. It’s breathtaking. As Ian and I drive from the airport to his mother’s house, I stay glued to my window. The snow is hanging heavily on the limbs of the trees, outlining each branch. Ian says they’ve just had a snowfall for the snow to still be attached like that.

Ian pulls off by one of the many lakes and gives me a mischievous grin. “Want to take a mini-detour?” he asks.

“Uh … sure?” I have no idea what he’s up to.

The next thing I know, we’re driving out onto a frozen lake. Driving!

“What—are you doing?” I squeal.

Ian does figure eights with the car and turns just sharp enough that we slide on the ice.

“Ian!” I keep my hands gripped on my seat, afraid to move.

“See all the ice houses?” He points behind us. I turn around and see tons of little tiny houses on the ice. “It’s safe right now. Give it a few months, and I wouldn’t be doing this…”

I breathe much easier when we’re back on a normal
road
. I love all the old houses and notice there are hardly any fences anywhere. Everyone in California has a fence, even if their yards are tiny. The sun is setting as Ian drives down a dead-end street and pulls in the driveway of an old farmhouse sitting alone on ten acres.

“Mom moved here when I was just graduating, so I didn’t spend much time here, but it’s as much home as I’ve got,” Ian says. “It’s beautiful in the summer.”

Ian seems more vulnerable than usual. It makes me want to wrap him up and protect him from whatever and whoever has hurt him. I lean over and kiss him before getting out of the car.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

He looks at me intently. “I’m glad you’re here, Sparrow.”

I go to the trunk to get my luggage and Ian has it all.

“Can I carry something?” I offer.

“Just carry your beauty, baby. That’s gotta be a heavy weight all its own.”

I snort. “You’re something else.”

“What? I’m just speaking the truth.”

I’m still laughing as the door opens and Ian’s mom rushes out. She’s hugging me and kissing Ian and talking a mile a minute.

“I’m so excited you’re here. Oh, you’re just gorgeous. I can’t believe it. Merry Christmas! I’m Ellen. Ian, you look better than I’ve ever seen you. Sparrow must be good for you.” She takes a breath and laughs nervously, her hands clasped together. “Come in, come in, I’ve got the turkey and dressing all ready for you.

Ellen is beautiful and so kind. She’s tall and graceful, and her eyes remind me of Ian’s, full of expression and changing colors. I feel at home right away. We sit down to eat, just the three of us, and she takes us both by the hand to give thanks. Ian favors her so much. It’s fun to see the two of them interact. He’s so sweet with her.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my boy,” she says, patting his cheek.

“Sorry, Mom. It’s been a crazy year, and when I’m not playing a gig, I’m trying to figure out how to get to Sparrow.”

“I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you put in that effort.” She looks at me. “I was starting to wonder if it was ever gonna happen.”

I smile at her and my chest expands with relief that she actually likes me.

Later, Ian is upstairs taking a shower, and Ellen and I are talking in the living room.

“I don’t know if you know what a big deal it is for you to be here,” she says.

“Well, everywhere we go, Ian never seems to be suffering from lack of female attention,” I tell her. “I just assumed that you would have met a lot of girlfriends over the years.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything, and he’s never brought anyone home, especially for Christmas. That’s why I knew when he told me about you last year around this time, that you must be someone special.” She leans in closer and says quietly, “He has a lot of hang-ups about commitment and even more about marriage.” She shakes her head. “I just hope he can let all of that go with you, sweetheart. He hasn’t had any examples of a good marriage in his life. Not one.”

I nod my head and want her to keep talking, even though uneasiness has settled in my gut. Because for all the ways Ian shows me he loves me, he really doesn’t talk about commitment, and he doesn’t demand it of me. He didn’t like it when those guys kissed me, but it wasn’t a deal breaker for him. I was grateful for it at the time, but now it’s troubling me. I’ve tried so hard not to make him feel any pressure about the future. I’m still young, but also, I think I’ve been afraid of scaring him off.

In some ways, it’s possible that I’ve given him the perfect set-up. We have these blissful times every couple of months, and then we both go live our lives apart. How long will this be enough for me?

When Ian comes in the room, looking all perfect after his shower, I decide to get another shower myself. It’s late and I’m feeling the fatigue of the day catching up with me. I go ahead and say goodnight, thinking Ian will enjoy some time alone with his mom. He gives me a look of concern as he kisses my cheek on my way out of the room. Sometimes I wish he couldn’t read my face so well.

Ian’s room is a later addition to the old house. It’s above the kitchen and has hardwood floors and wainscoting halfway up the wall. It’s a big room but still feels cozy. When I’m done in the shower, I crawl into his huge bed and pile the heavy blankets over me. I don’t even hear when Ian comes to bed.

The next morning when I open my eyes, Ian is leaning on his hand, looking at me.

“Are you watching me sleep?” I mumble, turning over on my stomach, so I don’t breathe morning breath on him.

He lightly traces his fingers down my back … down, down, down.

“One of my favorite things to do.”

“Hmm.”

He leans down and kisses the small of my back. “It’s nice having you in my bed.”

“Does this feel different from all the other times I’ve been in your bed?”

“Yeah, it kinda does.”

“Hmm.”

He chuckles. “Hmm,” he says back. “You didn’t budge when I came to bed last night. I was in here within twenty minutes of you coming upstairs and you were
out.
” He lowers my panties and kisses my cheeks.

“You still want me around even if I don’t put out?”

He goes still. He comes up by my face and kisses my hair. “What’s going on with you, Little Bird? Talk to me.”

I just stare at the wall until he turns me over and gently nudges my chin to face him. I look at him but don’t say anything.

“Don’t go quiet on me, Sparrow. You know it tortures me when you do that. What did I do?”

His eyes are anxious and his brows are scrunched together in one big frown.

I look away, and he moves so I can’t look anywhere but at him.

I push him off of me and mutter, “I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

He sighs and gets up to brush his teeth alongside me. He tries to get me to laugh by making funny faces in the mirror at me, but I can’t do more than crack a smile. My heart feels so heavy.

“What are we doing, Ian?” I cringe. I didn’t mean for that to come out exactly.

“What do you mean?”

I get back in the bed. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. Just … something your mom said started me thinking…”

“What did she say?” He looks at me with dread.

“That she hopes you can let go of all of your hang-ups with commitment to be with me.”

“Shit.” He rubs his face roughly with both hands. “I’ve never kept that from you.”

“I know, and I’ve never pushed you for anything … except to call on a regular basis.” I roll my eyes when I hear how ridiculous that sounds. The more I think about it, the madder I get. “I’m just realizing how I’ve given you the perfect little situation. You go travel the world, meet people all over place, do who knows what, and I’m at your beck and call whenever you want … which is really only every month or two … sometimes three or four.”

He looks floored. “I don’t understand. What have you been wishing was different? I thought we were only able to see each other that little because of how busy we
both
are … and that it’s actually been a lot, considering we’re halfway across the world from each other half the time.”

There’s a lump in my throat the size of a fist. It’s thrashing away in there, pummeling me.

“What would you do if I dated other guys? You’re not jealous at all, and that’s just weird!”

Ian stands up and starts pacing. “I wouldn’t like it, but I can’t keep you from it.”

“Yes, you
can
!” I slam my hand down on the sheets. “You could.”

“How?” Ian stops in mid-pace to stare at me.

“Say, ‘Sparrow, I don’t want you seeing anyone but me’ or ‘the thought of you with someone else drives me crazy’—that’s typically how it works in other relationships.”

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” Ian does a double-handed hair tug. “I mean, you know I didn’t like you kissing those guys, but you went out with them. I couldn’t do anything about that. I figured if you didn’t want to be kissed, you wouldn’t have put yourself in that situation. I don’t like it, but if that’s what you need, then I’m not gonna stop you.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, Ian. You’re the only one I want.”

“You’re the only one I want,” he says emphatically and stops in front of me. He pulls me up to him and kisses all over my face—my eyelids, my cheeks, all around my lips without actually kissing them.

“I feel that way when we’re together. I just … I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling.” I shake my head and wish I could shake off my mood too.

“I’m not good at this, baby. You knew that from the beginning, but I know that I love you and you’re the only one I’ve ever felt that way about. Tell me what you need, and I will try to give you that. You’re young. I want you to be sure. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

“You haven’t pushed me into anything. Age is irrelevant when it comes to us. I don’t need to go out and date a bunch of guys to prove that I love you. I know what I know.”

“So … if I were to … ask you to marry me, what would you say?”

My heart thuds to the floor.

“I’m not gonna answer that until you ask me for real.” I look at him and try not to act as flustered as I’m feeling.

“You won’t even give me a hypothetical answer? So if I put myself out there and asked, I could have an
idea
of what you might say?”

He’s not joking.
In fact, Ian looks as serious as I’ve ever seen him. He’s actually waiting for me to answer.

“Um. Well, I’d say, we have some things to figure out before we talk about marriage. Where would we live? When would be the right timing? Wait … you know, just a few minutes ago, you were still okay with me going out with other people. And now, you’re talking about marriage?” I’m the one who’s shocked now. I can’t believe how this conversation has turned.

“I was never okay with it. Let’s just be clear on that,” Ian corrects me. “I was just trying to let you figure it out. If you say you only want me, I believe you,” he says. “And you brought up commitment. I
am
committed to making us work. You’re the only one who has ever made me even consider marriage, and we’ve never really talked about it. I’m glad you brought it up.”