Twelve Truths and a Lie (17 page)

W
hat Cameron said
and did in that board meeting, as well as owning up to his own mistakes, made pride swell in my chest. And made him that much more attractive. It was getting harder to deny my overwhelming feelings for him, but I also didn’t want to be the reason he couldn’t take a job that he desperately needed.

My Friday felt lighter and that was good because I figured I was owed a little break. Cameron had to cancel our meeting tonight, due to some fundraiser shindig he was attending with Maddie. Maddie’s company was sponsoring the event, and the tickets had been purchased weeks ago. It surprised me that his roommate wasn’t taking a date, but Cameron said that Maddie had been staying home a lot more recently.

I was happy that I’d still be seeing Cameron on Sunday at the twins’ birthday party in Nicole and Michael’s back yard. He was tagging along with Maddie and joked by text that he would simply slip the twins money in an envelope and call it a day, since ten years down the road that’s all they’d want anyway.

Cameron also teased about my one-year anniversary, which was fast approaching, pointing out that the Chastity Club needed to do something to celebrate. I could think of a few ideas that did not involve
Richard
—or maybe it did—but I kept those thoughts to myself.

On Saturday morning, I cleaned my apartment and then went to yoga class. During the meditation portion, instead of clearing my mind like I was supposed to, I contemplated the past three hundred sixty or so days in my life. How I felt more like myself than I ever had before.

I hoped my mom was up there somewhere smiling down on me for getting the part right that she never seemed to be able to. She had been a good mom but had introduced us to some real duds.

Raised in foster care, she had always seemed to be searching for something. Maybe if she had taken the opportunity to listen to that quiet part of herself, she would’ve realized that she had already created something special—a loving family of three. That in itself was a pretty great accomplishment.

Over the low and soothing drone of the yoga instructor, I considered my own triumphs. I had probably learned at least one new truth about the woman I’d become for every single month that passed this year. Mostly that I was a brave, empathic, and strong person.

I could take care of myself, and I had a pretty good aim, if my reining darts championship held any merit. If I ended up solo, I would most definitely be fine, as long as I had my friends, my Netflix, my
Richard
, and a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips by my side.

I also learned that I did, in fact, hate avocados because the texture was squishy and no future health-conscience boyfriend would be able to talk me into the benefits again.

Yet, in the middle of those twelve revealing
truths
for every month of the year was one bald-faced
lie
that continued to niggle away at me. The fact that I was lonely—and probably always had been—even through my string of endless boyfriends.

In fact, I ached with loneliness, even now. Because a warm body did not equate to a warm soul.

And only one person had ever succeeded in reaching and fulfilling that very part of me—of really seeing me and accepting me for who I am. And liking me in spite of it.

Cameron had burrowed himself beneath my skin, and the very idea of being with him and caring that much for somebody frightened me in a way I had never experienced before. I did not want to get absorbed in another person and lose the best parts of myself again.

But what terrified me even more was the idea of losing him—any part of him, most of all his friendship—for good. If I could keep any small portion of him close, my heart would be happy.

That afternoon, I dragged Sydney to the larger than life toy store with me to get a gift from both of us for the twins. If Nicole hadn’t told me what to buy, I would’ve been completely lost in the world of annoying squeaky sounds and bursts of bold colors when we walked through the door.

In the middle of one of the aisles, I noticed that Sydney was no longer beside me, so I backtracked and I found her in the baby section. She was running her fingers along books and crib railings and blankets, the display no doubt meant to evoke a warm and cozy vision for a nursery.

It was totally endearing watching my friend and yet completely crazy pants all rolled into one. But something about the way she was gripping her stomach seemed off.

“You okay?” I asked, placing my hand on the small of her back.

“I will be.” She was holding a Dr. Seuss book as she turned her watery eyes to me. “I lost the baby last night.”

“You had a miscarriage?” I squeaked out, having difficulty keeping my voice down. I clutched a fuzzy pink elephant to my chest. “Oh God, honey. Why didn’t you—”

“I was at my mom’s house and I woke her up when I started bleeding,” she explained, taking a shuddering breath. “She walked me through it, and then I called my doctor this morning.”

“Thank God.” Just as we’d predicted, Sydney’s mom was totally supportive of her on every level. I felt a pang in my chest hoping my mom would’ve done the same for me.

“Plus, Nicole has lost two, so I called her before you picked me up to ask her about it,” she said. “I’m totally relieved but also sort of sad at the same time…sounds ridiculous, I know.”

“Not at all,” I replied, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “You were probably starting to get used to the idea.”

Plus, her emotions had been all over the map recently. She’d call crying one minute and laughing the next. Nicole had explained how very normal that was, given all the new hormones coursing through her body.

“I definitely was, even though I was terrified,” she said, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “And I think…I think I’m still going to tell Maddie. He deserves to have that information.”

My heart beat a crazy rendition, wondering what would become of that. What would Maddie say or do? The suspense was killing me where those two were concerned, but they needed to hash it out themselves and these things took time. Life in general took time. Except for those chance seconds that seemed to happen at warp speed.

“At least Nicole can help you figure out all the lady bits stuff,” I said, scrunching my nose as I reached for some breast pump contraption. “And then there’s me, who will attach herself to your side to make sure you don’t feel alone.”

She tugged me into her arms and sniffled against my shoulder. “Thank you.”

I smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and then tugged on her arm toward the preschool section.

“Let’s go get our adopted nieces some cool toys,” I said. “Preferably ones that aren’t pink.”

W
hen we showed
up for the party the following day, Nicole and Michael were in the back yard with the kids and their extended family. Nicole was flaying her arms telling a story while one of the twins, Emily, if I wasn’t mistaken, pulled on her skirt attempting to gain her attention. She was clutching a Hot Wheels car in her hand, and given the state of the orange track behind her, she probably needed help setting up the ramp.

The other twin, Erin, was standing at the plastic kitchen set that they had dragged outside, preparing some imaginary meal in a pot. It definitely brought back some childhood memories for me, not that I loved cooking in the least bit as an adult.

Without a second's hesitation, Sydney headed over to Emily and knelt down on the ground to help snap the track pieces in place. She offered the twin a goofy smile and pulled her on her lap as they rearranged the cars in the lineup together.

She looked lighter right then—beautiful, glowing—as if she’d finally accepted the reality of her situation. I spotted Maddie near the cooler with a soda in his hand, watching Sydney’s every move.

Placing my hand on her shoulder, I bent down as I walked past and kissed her head. “You’re going to make a good mother someday. When it’s the right time.” She squeezed my fingers and got back to work as Emily made
vroom vroom
noises around the track.

I greeted Nicole and Michael, and as I placed our wrapped present on the gift table near the snacks, I spotted Cameron by the trampoline playing hide and seek with the older cousins. I cracked up watching him swing one of the boys upside down and tickle his armpits after the kid fussed about his secret spot being rooted out.

He placed the child right side up, and the kid reached his hands up to Cameron, begging him to do it again. Yeah, he’d pretty much be perfect with children of his own.

When Cameron’s eyes met mine and held, my heart knocked hard in my chest. We were friends who had become intimate with each other. Even without the sexy times, I felt so many things for that man and I thought it might be mutual. Still, I didn’t know how, or even
if,
I should make that leap, especially since he would be leaving town soon.

I had been a person who fell all too easily into relationships with men. But I hadn’t been in one for a year, let alone had intercourse. Cameron was recovering from a broken heart, and I may have been the one to help him along.

I was a fixer—my friends had pointed that out to me long ago. Was that all I had become to Cameron? Someone who had aided him through a tough time? My fear of that possibility had kept me gun-shy around him as well.

As the afternoon wore on, there was pizza, cake, and presents—enough to fill an entire room, it seemed. I thought of the kids on my caseload who could barely afford a pair of shoes, let alone plastic Barbies and kitchen sets and race cars.

But every person learned valuable lessons in life, no matter their circumstance. And I figured those disadvantaged kids appreciated and valued things way earlier than those who had too much at their fingertips. And for that, they were immeasurably richer.

Cameron stood near me watching a clown make animal-shaped balloons, our shoulders brushing at times. I resisted the urge to knit our fingers together, desperately wanting that closeness again.

Cameron leaned forward, whispered something in the clown’s ear, and about a minute later, the tall man with the polka dotted outfit had manipulated a couple of green and red balloons into a flower.

“Unless you’d rather have a light saber or sword?” Cameron asked, eyebrow quirked. I laughed and shook my head, too touched by his thoughtfulness to speak.

But before I even had the chance to utter my thanks, the kids were squealing and shoving past us, begging the clown to design more bouquets.

“See what you started?” I said, hugging the flower to my chest, lest some child try to swipe the hot commodity from me.

A while later, a deejay, who was really a relative that brought his own equipment to every family function, had set up a makeshift dance floor on the back lawn. He was keeping the kids entertained with those strangely addicting Kids Bop tunes as they danced and sang at the top of their lungs.

I made the rounds to Nicole’s extended family and caught up on their lives, as Michael walked by and handed me a glass of wine obscured in a red solo cup. I sipped it gratefully, wondering whether Cameron was inside the house because I hadn’t seen him for the better part of an hour.

A shrill sound from the microphone on the dance floor was loud enough to make everybody, including me, cringe and cover their ears.

“Aurora Jones?” the deejay announced in a serious tone, searching the tables for me. “Can you please come forward?”

My limbs seemed to lock in place as my gaze sought Nicole’s to ask her what was up. But her eyebrows were scrunched together, and she seemed just as confused.

I walked the few steps to the dance floor and stood awkwardly, looking to the deejay for a cue. But his gaze was peeled behind me, where Cameron now stood holding one of the twin’s hands. As they walked toward me, Erin was giggling.

“What’s going on?” I asked Cameron, but his eyes darted away from mine.

He bent down and whispered something in Erin’s ear. She grabbed the microphone that the deejay held out, the dense instrument nearly slipping from her chubby little fingers.

“Aunt Rory?” she asked, looking up at me with a bemused expression. “Will you dance with Uncle Cam?”

The murmur of the crowd behind me registered into a collective
awwwww.
My eyes widened and embarrassment heated my cheeks. But my heart also thumped a steady pitter-patter rhythm only for him.

The deejay began playing a song that I quickly recognized as
Lose My Breath
, from our car trip home. My hand slipped over my mouth. “Oh, God.”

Cameron cracked a tentative grin but his eyes were round and searching, like maybe he thought I was going to turn and bolt to my car. I definitely was considering it. What the hell was he thinking—this was a kid’s party, not the prom.

Sydney stepped behind me and said, “I think Erin is waiting for your answer. And stop acting like a deer caught in headlights.”

She gave my shoulder a little nudge and I sprang forward. “Oh, um, sure.”

Cameron reached for my hand. I timidly connected our fingers, and then he pulled me toward him, into the middle of the pretend dance floor.

“Christ, Aurora,” he murmured. “Way to make a guy sweat.”

We began moving in circles, and as my eyes darted around, I noticed how very quiet and serious it became in the back yard. Everybody was staring as if waiting for us to do something—make out, hitch a ride to Vegas, perform an acrobatic routine.

“I have no idea what’s going on right now,” I said, looking up at him.

“Just go with it,” he whispered in my direction.

“Okay.” His hands tightened around my waist, and he tugged me closer. I could smell him—like vanilla ice cream on a summer day, and I immediately felt at peace.

When I looked over his shoulder, some adults from the gathering were shuffling toward the dance floor. Nicole and Michael, Michael’s parents, even Sydney and Maddie.

Cameron’s fingers slid beneath my jaw. “Aurora?”

I practically shivered at his tender touch. “Cameron?”

His eyes were glued to mine. “Remember our car ride home?”

“How could I ever forget?” I said. “I practically blubbered in front of you listening to this song.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. Then he cleared his throat and his gaze turned thoughtful. “Do you remember what you said about why the lyrics got you choked up?”

I felt tears pricking my eyes, I couldn’t even help myself. The song, the way Cameron had staged this dance, how his fingers felt on my back—so warm and protective.

Even my heart was attempting to leap through my chest to get closer to him. No way to talk any sense into her now.

“Yes,” I said in a watery voice. “I remember.”

“That’s how I feel about you,” he whispered into my ear. “You walk in the room and I can’t catch my breath. My heart goes crazy. You’re like this warm and commanding light that I can’t turn away from. My very own Northern Light. I want to be near you all the time.”

My breathing became erratic and I blinked back tears.

“Aurora Jones,” he said, tightening his grip. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

I gasped, taken aback. The request crushing in its simplicity. Yet the implication enormous, given the past year of my life.

“What?” I asked, absently.

“I’m not sure I can repeat all of that again. I didn’t bring any cue cards,” he said in a teasing voice, laced with regret. “But if you don’t—”

“Aren’t you leaving?” I asked, cutting him off, my brain a whirlwind of chaos.

“I’m not sure that I can,” he said, shrugging. “Not when you’re here and I could be walking away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“God, Cameron.” I could feel my pulse thrumming in my veins. “I don’t want to be the reason you—”

“You won’t be, I promise you,” he said, his voice strong and fierce. “Besides, can you really see me teaching in some shiny suburban school?”

“I guess not,” I replied, a grin slipping across my lips. He was so amazing with his kids, possessing some intrinsic quality. He understood their needs.

“I mentioned the job offer to my principal,” he said. “And he was really bummed. Asked me to hold off, to see if he could pull some strings to keep me in that classroom.”

“I can see why,” I said, nodding. “He knows your value.”

A ghost of a smile traced his lips as he twined his fingertips through the ends of my hair. I could’ve stayed right there, in that perfectly scripted moment, with him for the next year.

“We can go slow—as slow as you want—but I have no desire to be with anybody else,” he said, and I saw a mixture of trepidation and wonder in his eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

His words struck my chest like a thunderbolt, and I was standing in the center of the hurricane again, completely electrified and terrified all at once. Scarcely controlling my runaway breaths, I could feel a tear rolling down my cheek, but I was too numb to swipe at it.

My heart had already vacated the premises and was nuzzling up with Cameron’s without even a time-out to properly think things through.
Traitor.

“I…” Glancing at him, I realized we had stopped dancing and his grip had loosened on my waist. His face had slightly crumpled as he waited on me to say something. “I’m scared.”

“I’m scared, too,” he mumbled, taking a step back, as if to give me space. And I realized that I didn’t like it, him moving any further away. “But I’d rather navigate this fear
with
you than without you.”

He watched me across the distance, his gaze strong and unwavering.

“You’ve become one of my closest friends,” I said, gazing at his mouth and eyes, remembering exactly how gorgeous he looked in the throes of passion. And on that day he stood up for his student. “One of the best men I’ve ever known.”

His eyes softened and he tenuously bit his lip.

“And?” he asked, his voice barely audible above the music, which I only now realized had changed to a different song. I no longer had that gnawing and cloying feeling in my gut. The one that came with hearing those lyrics. I only felt happiness and hope.

My fingertips grazed against his. “I’ve been in love with you for weeks.”

He sucked in a harsh breath, his eyelids shutting. I watched his lashes flutter and his brow smooth out, as he seemed to weather his storm of emotions.

When he opened his eyes, I saw so much longing reflected in them.

His fingers gripped my neck, and his thumb brushed over the hollow of my throat. Everything else around us fell away. The drone of adults talking, kids squealing, music drifting along the wind.

“Aurora,” he whispered, his tongue swiping across my lips. “I missed this.”

And then he was kissing me, licking deeply inside my mouth. I moaned at the very sensation I’d been craving for days on end as his hands curved beneath my jaw.

My fingers clutched at his waist dragging him nearer, and I kissed him with all I had. I let him feel everything as my lips fused to his. Everything I had to give.

Then the sound whooshed back in and I heard clapping.

Hoots and whistles and people laughing.
Get a room!

I was making out with Cameron at a kids party.

Scratch that. I was making out with my
boyfriend
in my friend’s back yard, in the center of the lawn, next to plastic toys and leftover birthday cake.

And in the presence of all of my closest friends, I had never felt more like myself. More alive. And more certain of my decision to take a leap with this man.