by E. K. Blair
She stands and walks over to sit next to Candace, and I let go of her as she turns to my mom and hugs her.
“You are an amazingly strong woman,” my mom says to her as she pulls back to look at Candace. “Watching you get through this year with everything you had to go through with the attack, your parents, and with Ryan . . . I don’t know if I’d be able to come out of that with the poise you have. It’s been eighteen years since I lost my baby, and it wasn’t until just now that I was able to finally say it out loud. I’ve held on to it for all these years, and then I look at you . . .”
She takes a moment as she begins to cry again, before adding, “You are everything I wish I could have been. I see you with my son, and how you’ve opened your heart to him even after what happened to you. I’ve never been able to do that since Richard died almost eleven years ago.”
Candace doesn’t even need to speak, and I love my mom for what she just gave my girl. Gave it in a way that Candace didn’t even have to talk because I know she was so nervous about what she would say. The two of them cry together, and at this point, I give Candace the space I feel she needs to spend time with my mom and talk without having me around. I kiss the back of her head before I leave the room and go outside to the beach to digest everything I just heard.
When Jase and Mark arrived later that day, we spent the evening grilling steaks out back and hanging out on the beach. Candace told me, that after I left, she and my mom were able to talk for a while. And seeing them now, in the kitchen, cooking breakfast, they seem closer than ever.
“Hey, Mom, where are your binoculars?” I ask after we eat.
“They’re outside on the table,” she says when I grab Candace’s hand to take her out to the beach.
“Where are we going?” she questions.
“I wanna show you something,” I tell her as we walk outside.
Picking up the binoculars, I walk her down towards the water, and when I look through the lenses, I spot what I want to show her. I hand them over and instruct, “Here. Look over there to that sea stack. I want you to look carefully for anything bright orange.”
“Okay,” she draws out slowly as she holds the binoculars up to her eyes. “There, I see . . . oh my God!” she squeaks out, and it’s cute as hell, bringing a huge smile to my face. “Look! There’s so many of them. What are they?”
Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I rest my chin on top of her head, telling her, “Puffins.” She keeps looking at them as I say, “Every year around this time they nest over there on Haystack Rock. That’s why we can’t shoot off fireworks because they come here to mate, and it would scare them away. This is the only place on the coast where it’s not legal.”
“They are so cute.”
I lean down and press my lips into her soft neck, taking kisses when she drops the binoculars and turns in my arms to face me. The wind kicks through her hair as the sun casts a glow on her face.
“Are you happy?” I ask. Her smile tells me she is, but I want to hear it.
“I never thought I could be this happy.”
She runs her hands behind my neck and brings me into her, kissing me intently, but the moment is short-lived when we hear Mark say, “Break it up, kids.”
“What are you guys doing?” Jase asks as they walk over to us.
Candace holds out the binoculars and tells him, “There are puffins out on that big rock.”
“Give me those,” Mark says as he snatches the binoculars out of Jase’s hands and starts searching for the birds. “There they are,” he mumbles before telling Jase, “We should totally get one.”
Candace laughs while Jase says, “Dude, it’s a bird.”
Handing the binoculars back to Jase, he says, “They look like penguins. Haven’t you ever wanted a penguin for a pet?”
I can’t control my laughter as I watch the two of them.
“No,” Jase answers in exasperation. “Who even thinks like that?”
“I do. People have that shit for pets.”
“Who?”
“I dunno, just . . . people. I’ve seen it on TV,” is Mark’s pitiful explanation as the three of us laugh at him. He turns to Candace and tries to get her to back him when he says, “Why are you laughing? You once told me you wanted a pig for a pet.”
“What?” I question through a burst of laughter.
Turning to me with narrowed eyes, she defends, “Not like a gross barn pig. A domesticated micro pig.”
“What the hell is that, babe?”
“They’re these tiny little pink pigs. They say they’re cleaner and smarter than a dog. You can even litter train them.”
She says this in complete seriousness, and she looks adorable doing it, but that doesn’t stop Jase and I from laughing at her and Mark for their choice in pets.
Slapping my arm, she scolds, “Stop laughing at me,” with a hint of a smile.
“Just so you know, we’re not getting a pig.”
“You don’t even know what they are. You’ve never even seen one.”
Looking over at Jase for support, I call out to him, “Dude, Jase, are you hearing this?”
“It makes more sense to get a pig than Mark’s desire to snatch up a wild bird just because he’s thinks they’re cute,” he says with a chuckle while shaking his head.
“Hey, guys,” Tori announces as she walks out with Bailey on her hip, and Connor runs around her, straight to me.
Squatting down, I give him a big hug, as I say, “Hey, buddy. When did you guys get here?”
“Just now.”
Picking him up in my arms, I watch as my mom follows Tori and Bailey, who just turned two, out to the rest of us.
“Candace, it’s so good to see you again,” she says as she gives her a one-armed hug while still holding Bailey.
“Can you say, ‘Hi, Candace’?” Tori asks of Bailey, but all Candace gets in return is a ‘hi’ followed by babble.
The two of them laugh as Tori says to Bailey, “We’re just gonna have to change her name, huh? Something a little more simple.”
Looking at Candace, I tell her, “Don’t worry. She can’t even say my name.” Setting Connor down, I reach over and take Bailey, as she says, “Wy-wy!”
“See? I’m Wy-wy,” I say to Candace as I keep my eyes on Bailey.
“Tori, these are my friends, Jase and Mark,” Candace introduces as they all hug and greet each other.
“Where’s Trevor?” I ask.
“I’m here,” he hollers as he walks out. “Had to unload the bags.”
“Hey, man,” I say when he gets closer. “You remember Candace, right?”
“How could I forget?” he says before giving her a hug.
Everybody meets Mark and Jase and spends a good amount of time playing with the kids before Candace and I take Connor down the beach a little ways to show him the puffins. I watch as she is on her knees behind Connor, helping him with the binoculars as he looks through them. She’s relaxed and happy. I love that I could give this to her. This bond of a family we are beginning to form with not only my family, but with her friends as well. It’s only because of Candace that I have this right now. She’s the one who showed me what it was to open up. To connect to others. That I was capable of having meaningful relationships. And since having her in my life, my relationships with Tori and Max have grown to a new level, allowing for an even deeper friendship than before.
The shift that life has taken is one that I never would have expected, but one that I would never change as I watch her and then look down the beach to see Mark and Jase making a sand hill with Bailey and Tori while my mom and Trevor sit back and talk. And when Candace looks up at me with her beautiful smile, I know I have everything I could ever want.
Mark has taken a keen liking to Bailey over the past couple of days, which Tori has appreciated since he pretty much has taken Bailey off of her hands, giving her a much-needed break. She and Candace spent a couple of hours yesterday shopping at The Landing while the rest of
us played outside with the kids on the beach. This time of year the weather is nice, so we take advantage and ditch the indoors.
On the Fourth, we take the kids down to the local parade in the morning and then over to Seaside later that night, for fireworks. We’ve had a good visit, and it was needed in more ways than one.
When I wake up the next morning, Candace isn’t in bed with me, so I slip my pajama pants over my boxers and head downstairs to find her. The house is quiet with everyone still asleep, and when I walk through the living room, I look out the windows to see Candace sitting alone, down by the water.
Walking out, she has the binoculars up to her eyes, and when I get close, I ask, “What are you doing out here?”
She looks back at me when she says, “Watching the puffins.”
I sit down in the sand next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, teasing, “You want me to swim out there and get you one?”
“Mark may get jealous,” she says with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
She sets down the binoculars and lays her head on my shoulder, saying, “I love coming out here.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because,” she says, waiting a beat before continuing, “I feel like I’m part of a family. I never felt that way with mine, but I feel it with yours.”
“Have you ever talked to your parents? Did they come to your graduation or anything?” I ask.
“No.”
Not wanting to dampen this moment, I lift her chin up to me and tell her, “I love having you here. The first time I brought you here, last year at Christmas, I watched you in the kitchen with my mom, and I knew I wanted to bring you back. I had been chasing you for so long, nervous that I would scare you away if I told you how I was feeling, but bringing you home with me, I knew I had to make you mine.”
She smiles, saying, “You never seemed nervous around me. I always thought you were so sure of yourself.”
“There wasn’t a second that I felt sure of myself with you. You’re the hardest person I have ever tried to read.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. There isn’t a single thing about you that I would change. I love every piece of you.”
The leaves litter the streets as I drive home in the rain. I’ve been on a job all afternoon after I was commissioned to photograph a model for a portfolio. The photography thing has really picked up for me, and I’ve been trying to get a few more of my newer pieces on display at a couple of galleries. The exposure has been great, and Candace is nothing but supportive, coming along with me to showings when she can.
She’s been so busy with rehearsals lately for her first performance run that will start in a few days. The transition into the company has been a challenge for her. Most of the girls up there have been there for years, skipping the college route to go straight into their dancing career. Candace told me that it’s not very common to go from a university to a company, but she did it mostly to appease her parents. It’s been very competitive and some of the dancers haven’t welcomed her into the program very easily, giving her a hard time at first, but my girl is determined and always keeps herself focused when she’s dancing. It isn’t until she comes home to me that she finally lets out her frustrations.
We’ve made a routine of having Jase and Mark over every Thursday night so that Jase and Candace can watch the new episodes of ‘Ridiculousness.’ I just have to laugh at the two of them and their taste for trash TV, but she redeems herself each time we camp out downstairs by the fireplace to watch our black and whites.
Candace is already home when I pull into the drive, and when I walk up the stairs to the front door, I spot one of my bowls sitting on the ground. Picking it up, I go inside and set it in the sink then head upstairs. I stop in my tracks the moment I catch sight of her. She’s securing felted green leaves around the bun on top of her head, wearing a puffy red strawberry costume with green tights.
“Baby, what’s this?” I question with a smirk while I enjoy the view.
Taking out the hairpin from between her teeth and sticking it in her hair, she stands proudly on display for me, saying, “My Halloween costume!”
She’s fuckin’ cute, and I smile as I step towards her and ask, “Where did you get this?”
“Marilyn, the seamstress at the studio. She made it for me.”
“I didn’t know we were dressing up.”
She looks down at her costume, running her hands down the fluffy red fabric and says, “I never do anything for Halloween, so I figured since we’re gonna be with the kids, I wanted to dress up.”
Wrapping my arms around the pillowy costume, I pull her close to me and kiss her. I love seeing her playful and happy like this. We decided to go to Astoria to take Tori and my other cousin, Jenna’s, kids trick-or-treating next week. I felt bad that I didn’t go last year, so I’m making it a point this year, and Candace is excited to tag along and see everyone. My whole family has embraced Candace, and hearing Bailey call her Aunt Ce-Ce every time we video chat means the world to her.
“So you like it?” she questions when she breaks our kiss.
“It’s adorable, babe.”
I kiss her dimple before she says, “I’m gonna go take it off. I just wanted to put it all on to see how it looks. Give me a few minutes.”
My eyes follow her green legs as she walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. Even after all this time, she’s still modest with me, always shutting herself away to change and get ready. It used to bother me, but now it’s just another thing I love about her. So I sit on the bed and wait for her to reappear, looking more sophisticated in a pair of black pants and a fitted sweater, hair still in a bun.
“You wanna go grab a coffee before our appointment?” I ask.
“Yeah. Can we go to Common Grounds? I haven’t seen Roxy in a while, and I’d like to stop in and say hi.”
“Of course,” I respond as I tug her onto the bed and pull her between my legs before kissing her. “Oh, hey,” I say when I pull back. “Why was there a bowl by the front door?”
“I put some food out for this cat I keep seeing.”
“Babe, if you do that, we’re gonna have a shitload of stray cats hanging around outside.”
“She looked sad. I just couldn’t let her starve,” she defends. “She doesn’t have tags or anything, and it’s cold and rainy outside. The least I could do was leave out some food.”
I laugh at her, but love her soft heart, so I don’t say anything else about it.
Kissing the top of her head, I tell her, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
After we stop by and visit with Roxy for a while, we head over to Dr. Christman’s office for our appointment. We’ve continued to see her twice a month, and Candace has still been keeping her weekly appointments on top of what we do together. She’s been working hard and talking more to me about the rape and how she’s trying to process it. She still blames herself, but I can’t get down on her for that because I still blame myself as well.
She did come off of her sleeping pill back in the beginning of September, but a couple weeks ago, she had another terrifying nightmare and immediately started taking her pills again even though Dr. Christman wanted her to continue on without them. I understand Candace’s fear of her dreams. That nightmare freaked her out, and she wound up making herself sick, vomiting several times afterwards.
After seeing Jack at the bar, she was scared to come back there. I wound up telling her about the subpoena and going to see him. She was having a hard time believing that he was really dead, so I found out where he was buried and took her to show her that she didn’t have to be scared of him anymore—but she still is.
Candace has been busy ever since we got back in town from spending Halloween in Astoria with my cousins a couple weeks ago. It was a short trip, but Candace had fun with the kids, and I had fun watching my strawberry go door to door with Bailey, helping her fill her bag with candy. Candace even go
t some candy herself at a few houses that just assumed she was a kid. We all teased her about her size, and she took it like a champ, but she’s used to it from Mark. The two of them banter like brother and sister, and I’m starting to see that same connection building with her, Tori, and Trevor.
This past week has been crazy while Candace has been having costume fittings and dress rehearsals. But tonight is her first performance, and seeing her meddle around the loft, trying to keep her nerves in check, I think back to the last time—the only time—I saw her dance. I was alone, miserable, fearing I’d lost her for good. I watched her dance for the first time while I was hiding in the back of the theater, wishing I could have been with her, and now I am. This is the way it should have been the day of her performance in college, but I’m getting my moment now. And savoring every minute of it.
We ran out of bananas this morning, so she sent me out to grab a few since she worries about muscle cramps. When I get back from the store, a tiny white and tan cat greets me. No doubt, Candace’s little buddy, waiting for her next meal. I walk past it and let myself in.
“Your friend’s out front,” I say as I walk through the room and into the kitchen to set the bag of bananas down.
“Who?” she asks from the couch.
“That cat you keep feeding all of our food to.”
“Ryan, she doesn’t have a home. She’s been hanging around for a couple of weeks,” she says as I walk over to her and sit down.
“We can take her to the pound.”
“Oh my God! You’re crazy!” she squeals at me. “We’re not doing that.”
Looking over at her, I already know what she wants to do, but I ask anyway, hoping she’ll surprise me.
“So what do you suggest we do?”
In the most timid way possible, she suggests, “We could keep her.”
“I’m not inviting a feral cat into my home.”
Narrowing her eyes at me, she says, “You act like I’m asking you to invite a vampire in.”