I Hate to Stand Alone

by Casey Winter

  “Thank you, old man,” I mutter, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the praise. But a warm glow infuses me nonetheless. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think yes, Luke.” He offers me his hand and we shake. “But what about Family Roller?”

  “Oh, don’t worry.” I smile enigmatically. I can see that Dad’s curious. “I’ve got plans for the rink.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “Definitely not,” I say. “Because they’re not finalized yet. It might all blow up in my face.”

  “Very goddamn mysterious,” he says. “How do we handle the purchase of the ranch?”

  “I’ll transfer the money to your account.”

  He swallows. “It’s no small sum, Luke.”

  “I’ve been working for years and living frugally. Unless it’s north of a million, don’t even worry about it.”

  “North of a … Jesus, son, how much money’ve you got?”

  I wink. “Now what sort of question is that, old man?”

  “You’re right,” he says, nodding. “I shouldn’t have asked that. But something just occurred to me. I don’t wanna piss you off, but, if you’ve got all this money …” I see the cogs in his mind whirring. He’s thinking of Noah’s will. “Luke, you did use Noah’s money, didn’t you, to reopen the rink?”

  “It was his final wish to have the rink reopened,” I agree. “But I didn’t use his money, no. I wouldn’t do that. The soldiers in Noah’s unit were like family to him, the same as most units. Not all of them had brothers with elite jobs like mine. Some of them left widows and children with no other income.”

  “So you gave the money to them.”

  “So I gave the money to them.” I nod.

  “And used your own money to reopen the rink.” Dad jabs me on the arm. “Why have you kept all this to yourself, you idiot?”

  “Somebody once taught me to be humble,” I say, looking him in the eye. “And even if he forgot that lesson himself from time to time, I’ve always considered it worth remembering.”

  Dad sighs, smiling, but looking sad at the same time. “I just thought of something else,” he says. “I keep thinking that it’s over for us, the Nelsons, but it doesn’t have to be that way, does it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, since you’re as smitten as Valentine’s kitten, I think I hear wedding bells. And we both know what follows wedding bells … babies.”

  I make for the Chevy’s driver side as quick as I can. “Now take it easy, old man.” I laugh, climbing in and quickly starting the engine. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  But, as I drive away, I reflect on this warmth inside of me, right in my chest where all the pain and darkness used to be.

  The idea of being with Hannah—really being with her, forever—doesn’t confuse me like it once did. I feel certain now.

  I just hope she feels the same.

  —

  Later, once the rink has closed, Alexis arrives with her friend from out of town and about fifty or so other people in their late teens and early twenties. I’m a little surprised by how many people rush in, as well as by the star-struck way they all look at the girl at the head of it all. Short in a baggy white jumper and chunky boots, she looks just like a regular young woman.

  “Did you think she’d look more like Lil Pump?” Alexis teases, clearly reading my expression as she walks over.

  “I still don’t know what that is,” I grin. “But I expected somebody more … uh, pop-ish?”

  “She’s a rapper, not a pop artist, and, anyway, you haven’t seen her in her white wig with her black demon-eye contacts in yet. She doesn’t put it all on right away because it itches. But, don’t worry, you’re in for a show.”

  “Any sign of Hannah?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.

  If the knowing smirk Alexis gives me is anything to go by, I fail.

  “She’s coming, boss,” she says. “Don’t worry.”

  “Who’s worried?” I grunt.

  “Listen, I might only be eighteen, but I know true love when I see it, Mr. Nelson. And you and Hannah are well and truly in love.” She winces and spins when a piece of equipment tumbles to the floor. “Be careful with that, Jesus. I’m borrowing it from high school.”

  She paces away, looking every bit the director as she gives instructions to her helpers, which seems to be about half of the Little Fall High football team, all clearly here just to get a look at the impish punk. I pace around as they get ready, nervous even if I told Alexis I wasn’t. I’m so nervous, in fact, that when Hannah sneaks up on me as a joke, I actually jump.

  “Woah,” she laughs. “Do I get extra points for startling the frogman?”

  I stare at her, dumbstruck.

  She has glittery star stickers on her cheeks, the glitter flaking over her mouth, making me want to spread it other places with my lips. Her hair is braided, hanging over her shoulder, begging me to pull it, and then fist it lovingly. Her eyes are circled in dark, elaborate makeup, making her look intense and beautiful, like my girl, my girl. Even her skates have been revamped with black wheels and black laces.

  “Jesus,” I whisper, finally finding my words. “You look incredible, Hannah. Really incredible. If it wouldn’t ruin your outfit, I’d drag you into the office right now.”

  She places her hand on my chest, squeezing tightly. “It’s funny, I thought things were going to be awkward,” she whispers. She pulls on my shirt, sliding on her wheels toward me. “But it’s not, is it? Not even a little bit.”

  I lean in and kiss her with more passion than I ever have before. It’s like there’s a furnace inside of us, both of us, and our kiss feeds the flames. It’s not just lust, though—even if there’s plenty of that—and it’s more than just our bodies. I hear how badly she wants to be with me in her moans, I feel it, and I hear and feel the same in my own growling breaths. We want each other.

  Forever.

  “I thought this was just a fling,” I whisper, kissing her cheek, her neck. “At first, that night at the lake. No, that’s a damn lie. That’s just what I tried to tell myself. And then, after, I started feeling something. I was scared. Not just because of that Noah stuff. I was scared because I’ve lived with this darkness inside of me for so long, I didn’t think I deserved somebody like you, somebody … bright, Hannah. You blind me, you’re so bright. I know how this sounds. I know it sounds cheesy. But I don’t care.”

  “Neither do I,” she gasps, clutching my face in her hands. “I, Luke, I …”

  “I love you,” I yell, louder than I meant to. “I don’t care if it’s only been two months. I don’t give a damn about you and Noah. And yeah, maybe I am too messed up for you. Maybe we were supposed to hate each other. But I don’t care about any of that, not now. I love you, Hannah. And I want to be with you.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispers, dabbing at her face lightly. “You’re gonna spoil my makeup, frogman. I love you, too. It’s like you said. Sure, there’s a whole bunch of reasons it shouldn’t have worked, but … screw those reasons. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

  We crush into each other with the force of an earthquake.

  I feel the heat of her skin through her shirt, as I press into her lower back with my hand, pushing our bodies closer and closer.

  There are tears on her cheeks, melting against my smile as I kiss her.

  I wish we could just sink into each other, just fuse and stay that way. I can’t think straight. My mind is full and happy for the first time I can remember. I want to hold her for hours, weeks, years. I want to hold her and disappear with her and be with her and nobody else for the rest of my life.

  The only thing that breaks us apart is Alexis clearing her throat. We turn, both of us laughing, to see Alexis with her hands melodramatically covering her eyes. “I didn’t see anything, boss,” she declares. “I just wanted to ask if I could steal Hannah for a little while?”

  I tighten my grip on her hand, turning to her a
nd giving her a significant look. “This isn’t over, twinkle toes,” I promise.

  She stands on her tiptoes—well, balances on the front wheels of her skates—and pecks me cutely. “It better not be,” she says. “But I do have a job to do tonight, unfortunately. Alexis, you’re going to need to redo my makeup, I think.”

  “Actually,” she says. “The panda-eyes look sort of works for what we’re going for, believe it or not.”

  “But … there’s one more thing,” I say. “Alexis, can I have a couple of minutes? I promise she’s all yours then … well, for a little while, anyway”

  Once Alexis has retreated, Hannah turns to me. “What is it?” she asks. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I hope not.”

  “Okay, don’t keep me in suspense, bad boy.”

  “I’ll just come out with it,” I say, holding both of her hands, thinking briefly that this is how we’d look standing under the altar. The vignette punches me hard, warmly. Desire swells in my chest. Easy, soldier. One thing at a time. “I want you to take over Family Roller. I know I’ve said it before, but they were just passing comments. This is for real. I want you to be part owner and sole manager. You’ve done more for this place than I ever have, and I see how you light up when you’re here.”

  “Woah,” she says, and I can tell she wants it. The desire flickers flame-like in her glistening eyes. “That’s a lot to take in. But what the heck will you do? Wait, are you leaving?”

  “No,” I say firmly. “I’m helping my old man buy a ranch. I’m gonna work with him for a little while.”

  “In Little Fall?”

  I nod. “Or very nearby. I’m starting to get tired of being a wanderer, too. I remember you told me once, in our suite in Lorham …”

  “Our own personal heaven, you mean?”

  “That’s right,” I smile, stroking my thumb across her lip, watching as pleasure reverberates through her features. “You told me how you hated to stand alone at parties, and how you always thought that said a lot about you. Me, twinkle toes, I’ve never been like that. I’ve always been just fine standing on my own. But now that I’m with you, now that I love you, I can never imagine being on my own again.”

  “I feel the same,” she whispers, crystalline tears clinging to her dark eyelashes.

  “So what’d you say about the rink?”

  “I say yes,” she beams, throwing her arms around me. “But about this part owner thing, I don’t want you to just give that to me. I have some cash from skating. I’d like to use that as a down payment and then use my manager salary after that.”

  “Hannah, you really don’t have to—”

  “I want to, Luke, kay? Please?”

  I sigh. “Okay, Hannah. As long as it means you’ll be in Little Fall, with me.”

  “I can’t believe this,” she smiles, looking so happy I feel like punching the air. “I love you. I really could get used to saying that. You know, I was so nervous about saying it. I’m glad you shot first.”

  I smooth her hair around her ear, loving the way she turns toward my hand, loving the way she smiles, loving how easily she balances on her skates as she rocks back, loving how cute and intelligent and talented and sexy and beautiful and capable and sassy she looks.

  I love her, everything about her.

  And I can’t believe we were ever enemies.

  “Right, lovebirds,” Alexis exclaims, marching over. “Clearly if I don’t drag Hannah away, you’re going to be all smoochie-smoochie all night. Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

  Hannah and I kiss each other once more, brief but intense, and then, giggling musically, she skates over to the rink where Alexis has laid out some glowing slalom cones for her. The artist and her entourage are on the other side of the rink, waiting, so I guess they’re recording Hannah’s section first.

  “Do you want music?” Alexis asks.

  “No,” Hannah says, biting her lip in concentration. “The opposite, actually. If everybody could be quiet?”

  “You hear that?” Alexis yells good-naturedly. “One word and Mr. Nelson will go full Army on your asses.”

  “It’s true,” I call over, not bothering to correct her and tell her I’m Navy, not Army. “I love this woman more than life itself, and there’ll be hell to pay if you interrupt her performance.”

  “Okay,” Hannah says, fists clenching in concentration. She glances at me for support. I nod, and then she nods, taking strength from me just the same way I do from her She gives me a secret smile. “Let’s do this.”

  I’m ready if you are, twinkle toes.

  She skates.

  Epilogue

  Hannah

  Six Months Later

  I wake up and dig deeper into the warm sheets, tugging them tightly around me, half-opening my eyes to peek at the ice-encrusted window and the bare branches of the maple scraping against the glass. Outside, I can hear Luke chopping wood, so I’m guessing it’s gone seven o’clock. Since Luke sleeps so soundly these days, he’s always up before seven.

  The only reason I can even see the tree branches is because the February ice is reflecting his high-beams, which he must be using to light his woodcutting. Since moving into the cottage on the Nelson ranch, life has been sort of idyllic, and by sort of, I mean it’s been very, very, very idyllic.

  It’s just all going so great right now. Luke and I are living together, and Luke is happy working on the ranch. I’m ecstatic to be running Family Roller, which has gotten really popular because Alexis’ friend’s video went crazy viral, and now everybody from Lorham and beyond wants to come and visit. Mom is in full remission, which is the best thing ever.

  “You’re a local celebrity, changuito,” she told me last night

  Luke and Penny and I were gathered around her dining table, tucking into her heavenly enchiladas. Her hair was a short, neat bun around her head. It almost makes me cry every time I see how proud she is of her growing hair.

  “It’s true,” Penny agreed. “Even Doc Giger knows who you are.”

  “Morgan mentioned you, too,” Luke grinned, looking dashing and handsome and rugged with his deep brown beard. “He’s all over Maine doing prisoner outreach volunteer work, and even he’s heard of Hannah Coleman-Ortiz and her magic skating skills.”

  I beamed, though I had to give credit where it was due. “Alexis did an amazing job with that video,” I remind them.

  Just then, Russel returned with the bag of nachos from Barry’s Park-N-Shop, smiling ruefully. “Sorry about the wait,” he said, sitting down next to Luke. “I got into a debate with Barry about country music. I tell you, that man would talk about it for weeks.”

  I glowed at the scene, feeling balmy and radiant inside. There was no awkwardness between any of us. Mom and Russel were actually getting on really well, especially since Russel had made good on his promise to shovel snow for Mom, even after he’d moved to the ranch. They haven’t sold the Nelson home yet, though. They only have a few years left on the mortgage and it’s a wonderful property. Russel has maintained it well, and I think he wants to give it to Luke when the mortgage is done.

  To us.

  Luke and I are now, unconditionally, irrefutably, fantastically an us.

  Whatever tension was in our relationship before, it’s gone. The old vestiges of our hatred, if they were ever truly there to begin with, have become inside jokes and bantering barbs.

  “God, I hated your guts, twinkle toes,” Luke sometimes jokes, a note of sarcasm in his emerald eyes.

  “Oh, yeah,” I tease right back. “I hated you so much, frogman, I made a voodoo dummy of you and spent hours and hours stabbing it with Alejandra’s knitting needles. Seriously.”

  Then we laugh, as carefree as kids and not giving a damn.

  And we’ve talked through every issue we had: the abortion, his PTSD, everything.

  Of course, that stuff never just completely disappears. Problems don’t evaporate in puffs of smoke, as though one day
deep scars inlay skin and the next—poof—we’re as smooth and unblemished as newborn babies. Luke still sometimes wakes with the glinting fury of the SEALs in his eyes, and I sometimes think back to that drive to the clinic, pain pricking the remembrance.

  But the difference is we have each other now. I lean on him and he leans on me. We stand together, and that just makes things so much sweeter.

  We’re now just free to love, to live, to be.

  —

  I get up and get dressed, tying my hair in a ponytail. I walk through the cottage, which has a major log-cabin feel, all wooden beams and fur rugs, cozy and homely, and into the kitchen to make some mugs of hot cocoa. As the milk heats, I go to the window and wipe away condensation, looking at my man.

  His breath steams in the air as he raises the axe, his arms bulging in the plaid shirt. He grins when he sees me, gesturing to his clean-shaven face with the head of the axe. “Like it?” he calls.

  “I’d like it even better if you were careful, bad boy,” I call back.

  He mimes falling. I shake my head. “You’re so not funny, asshole.” I laugh. “I might not bring out your cocoa now since you’re being so childish.”

  I carry the mugs out, though, since I’m not going to withhold gorgeous hot cocoa on an ice-cold morning just because my man’s being mischievous … in fact, I sort of like this new fun-loving, boyish streak in Luke, as though parts of personality previously tamped down by his military work are reemerging.

  I love the fact that we’re growing and developing together.

  I set the mugs on the tree stump we sometimes use for picnics … or did, anyway, before it got too cold. Luke thinks the tree stump is an eyesore. He’s been talking about removing it for ages. “Just need the manpower.”

  It’s in the low twenties today. The world is one of ice, especially in our little corner of the ranch. The evergreens that surround the cottage are like dozens of Christmas trees, and the maples and birches stand there naked, bare. Just like Luke and I are to each other, completely exposed.