by Marie Snow
I didn’t think you could call what we were doing dating, though. Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to label it. If I said we were dating, another layer of stress would be added because there would be expectations, and I couldn’t handle that--at least not right now.
“Matthew, I told you I didn’t mind,” Jenny said as she smiled at me. “It’s fine. We’ve been going out a lot lately. It’s only normal that your mom would want to meet me,” she added, and I could tell she tried to put me at ease. She’s just so… genuine.
“Has your mom asked to meet me?” I asked Jenny, curious and worried at the same time. Being with Jenny felt good. Still, every day I felt as if I was walking on eggshells. I’m not sure I was ready to meet her mother, or anyone else for that matter. I wasn’t exactly ready for her to meet my mother. I was more than hoping Jenny would say no.
“Don’t panic,” she laughed as if she could see the fear on my face, and perhaps she could. Perhaps Jenny was intuitive, which was both good and bad. “She hasn’t asked. To be honest, my mom stays so busy, I doubt she’s noticed that I have been going out. Which reminds me, I can have dinner at your house tomorrow night, but I have to cancel our hiking trip Saturday.”
I frowned. I couldn't deny that I was disappointed. There was a part of me that worried Jenny was beginning to get tired of being around me. I couldn’t say with any amount of certainty, but I didn’t figure I was a lot of fun.
“Stop, Matthew.”
My head jerked up at Jenny’s words. I saw her staring at me intently. Her face was overflowing with warmth, but it always was. It was filled with understanding too. Jenny always seemed to understand, and she never seemed to judge me. I truly did like that. Perhaps that’s even what made me feel comfortable around her—or as comfortable as I could be. It appeared she was able to read my thoughts just by my body language. Was I that much of an open book, or was she just that tuned into me?
I looked down at our joined hands. Jenny and I were sitting out by the water, watching the sailboats. Our boss’s nephew, Vince, was working today. I was grateful because Jenny and I could have lunch together. We didn’t have much time, so lunch consisted of sandwiches and cookies we purchased at the gas station. This was only the third time we’ve held hands, but each time felt better than the last.
“Matthew,” she repeated, and I looked back up, our eyes meeting. “I want to go hiking with you,” she said, and her voice was soft. “It’s just my mom is overbooked for cleaning Saturday, so I took on one of the houses. She can’t afford to lose a job and my college bank account can always use a little extra,” she explained, and it did make me feel a little better, but not as much as her next words did. “I really like you, Matthew.”
“You do?” I asked. I felt this warmth spread inside of my body with her words.
“I really do. I like spending time with you. I mean, don’t you… do you enjoy spending time with me?”
“Yeah, can’t you tell?” My question seemed flat even to my own ears, but I could also hear the sincerity in it. I hoped she could too.
“I was hoping,” she joked. I began breathing easier then. I even returned her smile. I held out one of my cookies to her—seeing as how she already ate hers.
“Thanks, chocolate chip cookies are my weakness,” she laughed, as she took the cookie from my hand.
“I’ll make note of that for later,” I responded, as surprised as Jenny’s expression appeared when I had teased her.
“Are you flirting with me, Matthew?” Jenny asked, and I could see her cheeks had bloomed with color.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t really done it before,” I laughed. I felt uncomfortable but seeing the joy on her face was worth it. I’m not sure I had ever felt this feeling before.
“I like it,” she responded. I stared at her for a few minutes and grinned when she finally finished her cookie. “What?” she asked when I let the quiet stretch too long, my gaze locked on her lips.
“You have a little bit of chocolate on your lip,” I confessed.
She brought her finger up to wipe the corner of her mouth, but she totally missed the spot in question.
“Did I get it?”
“No,” I laughed. She tried again, but still it remained. “Here, let me,” I finally told her, and I leaned in, my finger slid against the corner of her lip. Jenny’s gaze was on my face. I felt her body tremble and the moment felt heavy. Her breath caught, the sound audible, and my heartbeat quickened in reaction. I didn’t stop to question it. I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers.
Jenny whispered my name, the sound little more than a breath. I took that as acceptance and that soothed over the uneasiness that was moving inside of me. So, I deepened the kiss, my tongue searching hers out, tentatively, and full of trepidation.
But it was still the best moment of my life.
12
Michelle
I’d never been calmer in my life. This feeling of rightness grew inside of me. Maybe I should have been concerned about that, but I was more focused on making sure tonight went off without a hitch.
I looked out the small window above the kitchen sink for the hundredth time, expecting Matthew and Jenny any second. He’d left to pick her up half an hour ago for dinner at our home.
I stared down at the bowl in front of me, the strawberry rhubarb pie filling redder than I’d ever seen. This was one of Matthew’s favorite desserts, something I made and brought with me when I’d visit him at the hospital.
He had lost so much weight when he’d first been taken away, and the strawberry rhubarb pie had been one of the only things he could stomach.
I focused on the pie, putting the second crust on, sealing the edges, giving the top an egg wash, all before sliding it into the oven. I saw the flash of headlights and for the first time today, I felt a little bit of nervousness take root.
Every part of me wanted to greet Matthew and Jenny at the front door, but I was trying to be cautious. Don’t smother. Don’t smother. I just kept repeating those two words. I didn’t want to do anything to mess this up for my son.
I was starting to think she might be exactly what Matthew needed to finally start standing on his own two feet.
So I waited, checking and rechecking the table settings, making sure everything looked perfect. Not out of place. I wanted Matthew to see that I accepted this, that I was all for him stretching his wings.
When I was adjusting the place-settings for the fifth time, I heard the front door open, the swoosh of jackets being taken off, the low murmur of voices coming from the foyer.
My heart was beating a little faster when I finally saw them round the corner and step into the kitchen. My focus was on Jenny immediately, but quickly turned to my son, gauging his reaction. I needed to know how he was doing—anxiety wise.
Although he looked a little distant—per usual—there was this lightness around him that I’d never really seen before. I looked back at Jenny and smiled, hoping it seemed more genuine than it felt. I supposed Matthew and I were both a little awkward in social situations.
“Ms. Landry, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Jenny said, her smile big and sweet.
She looked young, younger than what I’d first assumed when I’d noticed her at the gas station. She had smooth, alabaster skin, her hair tumbling down in waves across her shoulders, big, innocent eyes, and a youthful innocence about her that told me she hadn’t truly experienced life yet.
I could picture myself at that age, although I really wasn’t like her, not even a fraction. She was full of life. It poured out of her, filled the kitchen, swirled around me. She was happy. I’d had to grow up faster than I should have. I’d never had somebody to look up to, and as she glanced at Matthew, this little secret smile on her face, I could tell that she felt that way toward my son.
No, I’d been a young girl taking care of her mother. I’d been trapped in my own purgatory. I’d witnessed death far too many times in one lifetime.
I clapped my hands t
ogether, breaking the spell I’d put myself in. But I immediately felt out of place for doing so, my fake, plastic smile on my face, and hers never faltering. I hoped that she didn’t see how awkward I was making things.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jenny.” I took a step to the side, showing the small table with everything ready. “I hope you brought your appetite.” I looked at Matthew then. “We haven’t had anybody over… since moving to Liars Island.” I wasn’t sure what all he’d told her yet, if he’d been truthful about his past, or about where he’d spent a good part of his young life. But that was his story to tell, not mine. “And I haven’t cooked for anyone but Matthew and myself in far too many years, so I hope something of what I made you’ll enjoy.” Color dotted her cheeks, and a genuine smile curled my lips. She was so innocent. A bashful little thing, that appeared to be just as fragile as my Matthew.
“If it tastes as delicious as it smells, you’ll have no complaints from me.”
I inclined my head toward the table, sweeping my arm out. “Well, if you two want to have a seat, I’ll finish getting things situated.”
Jenny was the first to move forward, taking a seat with her back to the wall. Matthew moved behind her. I glanced at him, but he didn’t look at me. It was like with Jenny there, I failed to have importance. Once I had all the food on the table and took a seat across from Matthew, I gestured for everyone to dig in.
Jenny was the first to start getting helpings and was commenting on how great everything looked. It was nice having someone around aside from just Matthew and me.
Before I knew it, everything became more comfortable. Conversation opened up, and Matthew actually participated. He’d even told her things about himself from his childhood… things before he was taken away.
And the whole time I sat there thinking this was nice. This was what normal felt like.
“I hope you come back, Jenny.” I gave her a smile and clasped my hands together, not sure what the etiquette was after having dinner with your son’s—possible—girlfriend. Although I didn’t know what she was to him, they were clearly close.
Jenny gave me a smile and nodded. “I’d love that. I really would.” She looked back at Matthew and her grin widened. I could see how much she enjoyed being around him.
For his part, Matthew glanced at her several times throughout the meal, as if he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It was a little unsettling, seeing how his focus would become pinpointed on Jenny, as if he hung on to every word she said. He’d lean forward as if he wanted to get closer.
His fascination with her was fast. Too quick.
I didn’t even know if he was aware that he’d been doing these things. He reacted similarly with Sofie, but this seemed… more intense. Faster. Consuming.
She held up the to-go paper plate covered in plastic wrap I’d given her. It held a generous slice of the strawberry rhubarb pie. “Thanks again for this, and I'm sorry I was too full to eat it after dinner. I’m sure it’s delicious. I can’t wait to try it.”
I smiled. “My pleasure.”
“Ready?” he asked in a deep rumble before opening the front door and allowing her to exit first.
She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled again. She lifted her hand in a small wave goodbye. I returned her smile and did the same.
Matthew locked eyes with me for just a moment and said, “Thanks. This is... nice.” His voice was low enough that I knew only I’d have heard him.
My throat tightened up and I nodded, unable to say anything else, not wanting to ruin it. He left, closing the door softly behind him, and I felt that crushing panic that had been at bay the entire evening rise up swiftly.
I lifted my hand to my shirt, grabbed the material, and tugged at it, as I started to gasp for breath. It was as if this tidal wave rushed up, this tsunami about to crash through my composure.
I tried to hold it together, but I felt like I was crumbling, so many new things being thrown at me at once. It was suffocating. It was drowning me.
I forced myself to move and turned and headed into the kitchen. I grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and tossed it back as if it were air that I desperately needed to fill my lungs. I set the glass on the counter, the clink of it hitting the granite especially loud. Time seemed to move painfully slow. I stared out the kitchen window and saw Matthew’s taillights disappearing down the road. Farther and farther he went.
I didn’t know how long I stood there. Five minutes. Ten. Maybe it was an eternity. But I found myself going over to the medicine cabinet and grabbing his pills, a nightly routine I did, something that seemed to stabilize me, let me focus on something else.
At first I didn’t realize what this crushing feeling inside of me was. It had been so swift. And as I started dispensing his pills into the little plastic container, I focused on that. Only that.
Seven little cubbies. Each one labeled with the first letter of each day of the week. Black against white.
I realized why this seizing feeling was taking me under. Matthew was transfixed, as he’d been with Sofie. It was clear in the gleam in his eye, the way he stared at Jenny, the fact he seemed to be open with her—the first person in… forever. Since Sofie.
I was convinced Matthew’s fascination with Jenny was more than he had experienced with Sofie.
And Jenny knew nothing about him. Didn’t know his past, his background. She didn’t know the mental struggles he went through. She didn’t know who his father was, where we’d come from, or how we all but escaped Stillwake.
I closed my eyes and curled my fingers around the edge of the kitchen counter, shaking my head, telling myself that Matthew was finally opening up, that the medication he was on, the therapist he was seeing, was all pointing him in the right direction.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if he was going down the same path he did with Sofie, a new soul to latch onto, a new fixation. A new obsession?
My mouth dried, terror filling me as I knew the longer he spent time with Jenny, the more he’d stray from the protection only I could give him.
13
Matthew
Three Weeks Later
The weeks had gone by surprisingly fast, and I’d spent all of them with Jenny. Three weeks in which my life had seemed normal. I couldn’t be sure, because I had never experienced it, but it sure felt normal. There were times that I even felt happy. There were still moments of anxiety, times of panic. Yet, I had always felt like I spent my life on a tightrope ready to plunge to my death at any moment.
I was used to that feeling.
Three weeks of dating Jenny, although I didn’t know if “dating” was even the right term. We hung out together, spent time with one another. She told me about her life, her childhood. I kept quiet about mine. But I enjoyed being around her. She made me feel… lighter.
I hadn’t told her about my past. I knew I needed to. She deserved to know my history, but what about me? Didn’t I deserve some sort of peace? Was I being selfish for even thinking that? I’d been going to therapy and I refused to miss a session. I’d even been taking the medicine my mother insisted I needed.
I was trying because I was desperate to feel normal, and I wanted to be that way for Jenny.
But as I thought about the other night, I wondered why I’d done what I’d done. My mother had given me the pills. I’d popped them in my mouth, taken a swig of water, then threw the bottle and spit them out when she’d left my room.
And I’d fallen asleep without that fuzzy distortion that accompanied me taking the medication. It had felt amazing. And when I woke the next morning, my head was actually clear. But then guilt set in. Was I trying to sabotage myself? Was there a part of myself that wanted to be disconnected?
A part of me felt so bad, like I’d done something criminal by not taking the prescriptions and hiding it from my mother. But I couldn’t deny the difference in how I felt and how staggering that was to me. And honestly… I’d come close to stopping my medication alt
ogether. I was afraid of messing up what Jenny and I had begun, though. I didn’t want to lose that. She’s amazing. Her smile spreads through me like a physical warmth, surrounding me and reaching into the darkness like nothing else ever had before.
And I found myself searching for ways to bring that smile to her face.
The bottom line was that I wanted to be better—do better—for her. I wanted to be the man that she deserved.
“You okay?” Jenny questioned, pulling my attention back to her. We were sitting on the hood of her car, looking out over the lake, sharing lunch.
“Sorry, I zoned out,” I muttered.
“You seem a million miles away today. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Jenny. I’m just dreading my doctor’s appointment. I wish I could blow it off and then you and I could spend the evening together.”
Jenny moved so that her side was pushed against me, and then she wrapped her arm around me, hugging me. Physical contact had always made me uncomfortable, but the more Jenny initiated it, the more I seemed to crave it.
“We spend almost every evening together lately. And I really like it,” she whispered, and I closed my eyes in pleasure, and although her face may have been hidden against my chest, I could hear her smile and it was sweet--even sweeter because I knew I was the reason she wore that smile.
“I do, too, Jenny. I… uh… I got you something.”
“What? You got me something?” She pulled back to look at me. Her face was full of surprise. I was nervous. I wasn’t really good at this kind of thing. What if she didn’t like it? What if I made a mistake?
“It’s not much,” I warned. I shoved my hand into my jacket pocket and brought out the small purple mesh gift bag. The lady at the jewelry store had only offered the bag, but I would have rather had a box. It seemed like the latter would make it seem more “gift-like” and less like I’d gotten the gift out of a vending machine.