The Reluctant Medium

by GG Anderson

  “Of what?”

  “I just don’t want you to think I am going because I am ready for that.”

  He glanced over at me, as we merged onto the freeway. “Could you please tell me what the hell you are talking about? You seriously are not making any sense.”

  “Sex.” I closed my eyes and turned my face to the passenger side window.

  “You think I asked you to go on this because I wanted to get laid?”

  I stayed completely still.

  “Savanah, look at me.”

  I turned my head slowly.

  “When have I ever made you feel like I was pushing that?” His face was red. He was angry. “I will NEVER push you. When you are ready, fine but not until. Seriously, that is what you are worried about?”

  I shrugged, “I just didn’t know what you expected, and we are going to be gone like all day and like half the night and I...”

  ‘And you thought when we get to my grandparents’ farm, the most precious of my childhood places, I would what? Attack you in the barn, right there on the old tractor?” He shook his head and sighed, “What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

  “I don’t think you are an asshole at all, I just-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  He messed up his face, “Don’t apologize for how you feel. For hell’s sake! I’m just sorry that you feel that I would be that much of a dick.”

  “I don’t think you’re a dick, I just. Hell Tyler, I don’t know, ok? I just have never been in a relationship. I constantly feel like an inadequate dork, who is just following the cool guy around. I keep waiting for you to realize what a super freak I am and run as fast and as far away as you can get.”

  He glanced at me and his hand grabbed my thigh. “Savanah, I’m not going anywhere. I know exactly what a super freak you are, and I am not running anywhere.”

  My vision blurred slightly, stupid emotions, maybe I did like them better all bottled up tucked deep in the abyss. “Ok.”

  “So, can we just enjoy our road trip?”

  I smiled, trying to hide my tear as it escaped the edge of my eyes and rolled slowly down my cheek. “Sorry.”

  “I’m sorry. Let’s just forget the whole thing, ok?” His hand moved back to the steering wheel as he changed lanes.

  I took his distraction as an opportunity to wipe my cheek. “So, what do you want to listen to?”

  I dug my phone out of my bag and pulled up my small playlist.

  He scoffed at me, shaking his head, “You are not going to have anything on your flip phone.” He reached down below his seat and grabbed his phone, “Here, passcode is 2310”

  I typed in the passcode and scanned through his music. It wasn’t far off from what I would have expected. He had play lists for workouts, batting practice, homework, and chill. I clicked on the chill list, and he instantly made a face.

  “Yuck. This is like go to sleep music, try Home Mix.”

  I clicked on it and heard the ancient twang of country music. I tipped my head towards him. “Really? Country? I would have never guessed.”

  He shrugged, “It’s a mix of all the songs Mom and Dad always had on.” He laughed, “There is a couple 80’s hair bands in there, my mom was gonna be Joan Jett when she grew up.” He grinned that small little grin I loved.

  “Do you miss home?” I hadn’t really contemplated how a normal kid must feel. I always couldn’t wait to move so my grandparents could actually retire and enjoy their golden years. I never considered what normal families must feel like with a kid away at college.

  “Yeah, I do, but school’s good. I mean I miss stupid stuff, like Sunday morning when mom would make breakfast, or the backyard BBQ’s when cousins would all come over to hang out. But really, that is all different when you get out of school anyway.” He shrugged, “You grow up I guess.” He turned toward me, “Do you miss home?”

  “Kind of, but my grandparents needed time to just be retired and relax together. I worry about them more than I do anything else.”

  We chatted about everything and anything for miles. He took an exit, and I realized we’d been driving for several hours.

  “Where are we?” I asked, looking out the window, trying to find a sign.

  “Pendleton.” We stopped for snacks, and a restroom break, and within ten minutes we were back on the road again.

  Within an hour, I started seeing signs for Yakima. My pulse quickened while I began to panic. “Do your parents know I am coming?”

  “Why?”

  “I just didn’t know if they knew about me at all.”

  He nodded his head, “Yeah my parents know I have a girlfriend, yes they know you are coming with me, no they are not going to be around.”

  “Oh? Where are they?”

  He smiled, “They are skiing with some friends this weekend.” His grin looked off. There was more right below the surface. More to this story than simply skiing.

  “What? Why aren’t you telling me something?”

  He threw his one hand up and chuckled, “It’s just mom wanted to cancel the trip, and dad absolutely refused. He kept texting me saying, ‘Don’t worry, I will make her go,’ like I was worried about it somehow.”

  “Does your dad not want me to meet her?”

  He laughed again, “No Savanah that is not it. My mom can be a bit overwhelming. He shrugged, “He was honestly trying to save me. He’s is sure she will scare any decent girl I ever bring home off.”

  “Well that’s not very nice. Your dad should have a little more faith in her.”

  He grinned, “I’ll tell him you said that.” He squeezed my knee. “Besides, it is almost the end of ski season, he is not open to missing the last few days they can go.” He looked at me, reading my question. “I know, the season lasts longer, but as soon as our baseball season really gets into full swing, they’re trying to come to as many games as they can.”

  I smiled thinking what a different life we lived growing up. How we were sitting here together seemed so odd to me.

  “What?” He asked.

  I shook my head, “Nothing, I’m just excited to get to meet them.” And I truly was. The fear seemed to dissolve, and I could picture it. Sitting at baseball games with his parents.

  “Good,” He blushed slightly.

  He took another turn, “Wait, I thought you lived in Yakima? We are leaving town now.”

  “I did, but I didn’t live with my grandparents. That was you,” his smile curved in that way that showed only the one dimple and made my stomach flip. I reached over and put my hand on his knee. He looked at my hand and put his on top of it.

  We drove in silence past fields that would be covered in crops if it wasn’t the dead of winter. The open spaces reminded me of home.

  We turned into a long gravel road and I pulled my hand back to grip the side of the seat. The weather had done a number on the road, and the ruts were intense. We slowed in front of a small white farmhouse. The simplicity made it beautiful and I suddenly hoped we could see it in spring, when the grass was green, and the flowers were blooming.

  We got out and he walked to the back door. He smiled at me and held his finger up, “Don’t tell.” He took two steps over, reached under a flowerpot and retrieved a key. He opened the door, and we walked in. The house was cold, but a bit warmer than outside. He flicked on a few lights. “This is their house.”

  It was perfect. Picture perfect, actually. Pretty much exactly how I would have assumed it would look. I walked straight into the dining room, and touched the drawers, exactly how I imagined them to be. I looked around the house and tears started to well. I wasn’t even aware of them until the first fell onto the wood floor. This was his grandpa’s house. And unlike the house that Elizabeth lived in, this one had been untouched since he lived here. I walked around, taking in the old pictures, the small details of love and family all around. “This is absolutely perfect.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He bowed his head slightly, “I love this house. It is the best.�
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  “So, no one lives here?”

  He shook his head, “Not now.”

  I wrinkled my brow, “But it is kind of sad that is sits empty. Someone should love it.”

  “Well, someone will someday.”

  I looked around mournful. It felt empty, like just shadows of family and love were left behind. “This house doesn’t like being empty,” I said the words softly, but I felt it deep in my bones.

  His arms wrapped around my waste. “I know, but it won’t be empty forever.”

  I tilted my face back, “You won’t sell it will you?”

  He shook his head. “No, I suppose I should let someone live here until I get back.”

  Things clicked a little, “Wait, this is your house?”

  He shrugged, “It’s supposed to be, you know if that deed can be found.” He twisted me around, “If not, I suppose it will be a parking lot, or the end of a cul-de-sac.”

  My face was horror struck. “They would tear it down?”

  He nodded, “Yeah, this is part of the land that is supposed to be developed. This, the barn, all of it would be leveled.”

  My stomach fell to my feet.

  “My parents would be left with a small chuck in the back of the property. It’s farmland, but without all of this, they would lose their contracts with their crop buyers. Without enough land to really farm or ranch they wouldn’t be able to make a profit. The taxes alone would kill them. Add that to the piece being basically land locked after this development went in, they would be forced to sell.” He shook his head, “And before you ask, yes they would make money, but that is only part of the deal here. The ranch is more important to them. I’m sure it sounds stupid to some people.

  I looked around the room again, imagining a subdivision, with new, cold modern monster homes spread around. Paved roads, streetlamps, and all painted in the boring required HOA color palette. How could anyone tear down this place?

  I pushed off his chest. “Ok, then let’s get cracking.”

  We headed to the barn, going straight for the medical fridge. The light showed exactly what Tyler had described, about eight long neck beers on the bottom shelf, and brown bottles of medicine sat on the top.

  We pulled open the freezer. There really wasn’t much in there. Under some of the frost covered ice packs, Tyler found a Ziploc bag with a piece of fabric in it. He pulled it out, unfolding the cloth.

  It was a dinner napkin.

  A formal linen dinner napkin.

  We looked at each other. “This has to be part of the puzzle. He talked about the linens. It must be connected. “

  “But there’s nothing here?” Tyler handed me the fabric and I held it my hand.

  A voice came from over my shoulder, “Look closer,” it whispered.

  Chills crept up my entire back. I walked out of the barn to examine the napkin in the daylight.

  “What just happened?” Tyler was right next to me, blocking my light.

  I stepped around him, “It’s this. We are supposed to look closer.”

  I searched the cloth and saw on the edge, two small words. “Go Deep.”

  “What does Go Deep mean?” I turned to him, watching his face spin.

  “I’m not sure. It could be-wait!” His face spread into a grin. “The deep freeze. Grandpa used to say Go Deep when we would get popsicles out of it when we were little. Of course. Mom has talked about cleaning that out for probably two years, but no one has the heart to.” He took my hand, “It has Grandma's last fruit harvest and Grandpa’s last deer. No one can bring themselves to throw the stuff out.”

  I nodded. I could see with such patriarchs; the last few things would be the hardest.

  “So, let’s go deep.” He laughed as we headed back into the house. This time however, we went down a skinny flight of stairs off the back porch. He jerked the chain on an old pull light above our heads and in the old laundry room stood a gigantic deep freezer.

  “Ok, I get the saying now,” I said taking in the sheer size of it.

  He walked over and pulled the lid open, “When we were kids, we were always afraid we would fall in and freeze to death,” he laughed as he bent over the frosty contents.

  I started looking in too but wasn’t sure what I was looking for. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Well, I guess we just start at one end, and work our way over? I think we should focus on the bottom for sure.”

  The freezer was, well freezing. It took longer for us to get to the bottom that it should have as we were trading off, keeping our fingers from getting frost bite. Neither of us had brought gloves, which I did point out, should have been Tyler’s job since he was the baseball player and should always have gloves around.

  Finally, under a box of over frozen popsicles, I felt a hard metal box. My fingers were sticking to the box, and I pealed my skin away, “Give me the napkin.” I reached back in and wrapped it around the metal. With a couple good tugs, it broke loose of the years of frost holding it in place. I handed it to Tyler. “Is this yours?” I asked, trying to be cute.

  The tears misted over, and he set it on the shelf next to the freezer. He tossed the items we had set aside back in. He shut the door hard, pushing to make sure it was fully closed. “Come on, let’s go upstairs and warm up,” he tucked the box under his arm and reached for my frozen fingers. I clicked the light off and we headed upstairs.

  Tyler set the box on the table and walked to the kitchen. He began filling a tea kettle. “You want tea? I don’t know what else is here honestly.”

  “Tea is perfect.”

  He grabbed two cups from the cupboard and waited for the kettle to whistle.

  “Are you ok?” I leaned against the counter.

  He nodded, setting the tea canister on the counter roughly, “I just – do you have any idea what this could mean?” He turned towards me, and I saw tears trying desperately to break lose. “Savanah, you saved my family farm. You saved my college education; you saved my house. I don’t know how to ever thank you.”

  I smiled, “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help.”

  He took a step towards me and his lips were on mine. His kiss made my head spin. I wrapped my arms around him and let my body sink into him. His kisses were slower, deeper. The tea kettle whistle broke the heat that had begun to build. I pulled back and blushed, silently looking around to make sure one of his grandparents didn’t catch that, in their own kitchen no less.

  We walked back to the table, holding the hot tea. He pulled the box towards himself and looked over at me. “Thank you.”

  “Stop. Open the box already,” I blushed.

  He pried the ancient metal lid and started to remove its contents. Mostly, old documents, but a few envelopes fell loose from the stack. One had Tyler’s name on it. He set it aside and continued going through the stack. There, in an unassuming thick envelope was the deed, properly signed over to his mom and dad. A copy of a final will and testament was below it, and finally a faded photo. It was of the house in spring, flowers in bloom, hanging baskets on the front porch. I smiled at Tyler.

  “This is everything,” his expression was filled with admiration, “Savanah, thank you for being here.” He reached over and wrapped his hand around mine.

  I wove my fingers through his.

  This felt so right. Tyler was more than any thing I ever would have imagined. How lucky was I? A year ago, I would have never believed I would be this happy with my gift, let alone in a great relationship, with true friends. My eyes misted over. “I am so glad we were able to find it.”

  The energy between us thickened. “Come here,” Tyler whispered, and his arms pulled me towards him. Somehow, we were standing upright, and he was all I could feel. His lips pressed against mine, but I wanted to feel more. Be closer. My nails dug into his shirt, pulling him against me.

  We stumbled towards the sofa and he carefully laid me down. I pulled him on top of me, unwilling to have distance between us. I edged his shirt up so
I could feel the smoothness of his skin. My fingers trailed up his spine, reaching his shoulders pulling him down onto me.

  His lips burned up and down the sides of my throat, while his hands cautiously maneuvered the folds of my shirt. His touch felt like fire on my skin, and I whimpered in response. He worked his way up my back, expertly releasing my bra hook. I gasped but pulled him closer. He lowered himself farther on me and sighed deeply into my neck.

  He was disengaging. I clawed his back, trying to prevent him from moving away, from pulling back.

  “Savanah,” He whispered, “we need to stop.”

  I answered by dragging my nails down the sides of his spine.

  He exhaled raggedly, “Damn.” He swallowed, “No, Savanah. We need to stop.”

  He pulled his head away from me and his eyes didn’t look like they agreed with his assessment. “We should stop.”

  My lip set into a pout.

  He chuckled deeply, “Yes, because you do that again, and I won’t be able to stop.”

  I tightened my nails on his back.

  He shook his head, “Nope, I am not doing this on Grandpa’s couch.”

  That was the cold bucket of water I needed to stop my raging hormones. I pulled away, starting to right myself.

  Tyler turned away, taking a minute to stay committed to his resolve.

  I did my best to reclasp my bra but had a feeling it was half crooked. I took a moment and adjusted myself. My zipper on my jeans was undone, when did that happen?

  I stood and wrapped my arms around him. He turned and held me, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

  “I’m not sorry. I obviously had no objections.” It was easier to be confident wrapped in his arms, with the sun starting to set outside.

  “It’s getting late isn’t it?”

  He stood very still, “Is it bad I don’t want to leave?”

  “Not at all. This place was so important to you growing up.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to leave this,” he squeezed me slightly, “you here. It’s so special; I can’t tell you how this makes me feel.”

  I swallowed hard. I thought through each scenario for a half a second. “Then let’s not go yet.”