The Loss Between Us
Page 23
I want to lean in as he licks his lips and then pulls his bottom in between his teeth. “Okay.” I say. Because I do trust him.
He straightens up and leans back. “Really?”
“Yes.”
His face turns playful as he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the garage.
Chapter 44
As Nash wheels his motorcycle into the driveway, I question how I got here. But his smile gleams at me, and then I remember why I agreed to this. He looks like a teenager who just got his license, and I have to admit, it’s damn hot.
“There are some things we need to go over to make sure you and I are both safe. First thing is I will always be the first one on the bike as well as the last one off. It’s my responsibility as the driver to keep the bike balanced. So don’t mount or dismount without letting me know. Secondly, even though you’re a passenger, you have to participate. You need to pay attention to turns. Essentially, you need to lean with me and the bike and not make any sudden movements. Make sense?”
“It does now, doesn’t mean it will once I’m on this thing.”
“She has a name.” He runs a blue cloth over what I assume is the gas tank and whispers, “Sorry S.J., she won’t call you a ‘thing’ again.” He gives me a glare and then continues. “You need to keep your feet on the footrests at all times, even when we’re stopped.” He walks over to the bike and points at the footrests. “And this is the muffler. Never touch it with your hands or legs. It will be hot and will burn you.” I nod. “I don’t have an intercom system, so if you need to stop you can tap on my leg and I’ll pull over.”
“How come you don’t have an intercom system?”
He glances up from whatever he was tinkering with on the bike and smiles. “I’ve never had anyone ride with me before.”
“Never?”
His smile fades and the playfulness is gone. “Never.” The entire world around us disappears as he steps toward me and rests his hands on my waist. Neither of us says anything, but Nash and I have always been able to communicate in silence. Yet this feels like a completely different language, one that I’m starting to understand with total clarity. Adrenaline and fear course through my body, and a small smile appears on my face. His face mirrors mine and then he winks. He steps away to continue Riding Motorcycles 101. “The final part is the most important part. You’re going to wear a helmet, and you’re going to need to put your hair up so that it’s out of the way. I also want you to wear jeans and long sleeves.”
“It’s July.”
“I’m aware, but there’s a reason bikers wear leather. It’s not an image thing. It’s a protection thing, and since we don’t have anything leather for you yet, long sleeves and pants will have to do. Ready?” he asks.
I’m scared to death, but I don’t want to tell him that. I keep reminding myself that I trust him…I trust him…I trust him. This is supposed to be fun, right? I say it before I can take it back. “Yes.”
“Then let’s go change, and we’ll just start out around the neighborhood and see how it goes.”
I can’t believe I’m about to do this.
Ten minutes later, we’re back in the driveway. “Okay, I’m going to get on, and then I need for you to get on. Don’t worry about the balance—that’s my job—but once you’re situated, make sure your feet are on the footrests.”
“Wait!”
“Don’t get scared on me now.”
“Tell me again how this is supposed to inspire me?”
He thinks for a minute. “Riding a motorcycle is freeing. Things are brighter, smell better, and that connects you to everything that surrounds you, including the person you ride with.” He walks up to me and grabs my hand before continuing. “I’ve always thought it was romantic like that.”
Well, when he puts it like that, how can a girl resist, even though a part of me thinks this is just a ploy to get me on his damn bike. But it worked.
“Okay, let’s go.” He climbs on, kicks up the kickstand, and tells me to get on. I move toward him and try to find a way to get on that won’t require me to touch him. I soon realize that’s impossible and try to not dwell on it. I place my right hand on his shoulder, throw my leg over the seat, place my left hand on the seat, and find the left footrest. I then sit down and find the right footrest. Now that I’m on, I don’t know what to do with my hands.
Before I can ask, he asks, “Comfy?”
“As comfortable as I can be on this death trap.”
He reaches behind him to grab my hands and wraps my arms around his waist. And I feel safe, content and happy. Like maybe I belong here, with him. His voice vibrates through my chest. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” And in that moment, I realize he’s had me all along. Longer than I was willing to admit.
“Don’t let go, whatever you do.”
I nod but all I manage to do is bump our helmets together. He laughs. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“You can talk when we’re not in motion, and I should be able to hear you okay.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Ready?”
I’m not just answering if I’m ready for a bike ride. Am I ready to experience this…with him? To take another step out of my past into a future that’s completely unknown? But I don’t want to spend time analyzing it. I want to experience it. “Let’s ride.”
His chest moves up and down as he laughs, and then he picks up his feet and eases down the driveway. He yells back to me, “You’re going to love this!”
I already do.
Chapter 45
We’re so exposed, and I think about all of the horrible things that can happen: a car backing out of a driveway too fast, hitting a bump the wrong way, me leaning wrong and throwing off Nash’s balance. But then I focus on how the ride feels. I close my eyes and feel the wind on my body, the sun on my face, and enjoy those things while pushing the anxiety away.
At some point, he turns his head and yells, “You okay?”
I yell in his ear, “Better than okay.”
I can’t see it, but I know he’s smiling. I want to tell myself that he’s smiling because he was right and I’m going to have to hear about it. But that’s not true. He’s smiling because he cares about me and he wants me to be happy. Everything he’s ever done for me has been about wanting me to be happy. I want to sink into him a little more, and instead of debating those feelings or those actions like I usually do, I let it happen. I grab his waist tighter and inch as close to him as I can get. He briefly moves his hand to mine and squeezes it before gripping the handle again. I feel myself falling into him and then I let go. Of the pain, the grief, the guilt. I then recognize a feeling I almost forgot existed—happiness.
He leans back and yells, “Hang on tight, we’re going to go a little faster.”
Instead of speaking, I let my body do the talking and hold on even tighter. On my right, I see the sign for the highway. The throttle underneath us picks up speed and I want to throw my arms out to the side like I’m on a roller coaster. As he sways to the right and my body responds to the movements, my heart warms to the thought of doing this over and over with him. Jeff flashes in my mind. But I remind myself he’s gone. He’s been gone for over a year. Olivia’s words crawl into my mind that he would want me to be happy, that I’m not moving on but moving forward. I close my eyes and press my cheek against Nash’s back.
Riding on this motorcycle with Nash reminds me of the grief I’ve gone through in the past year. You don’t know how it feels until you experience it, and once you’re experiencing it, you have to brace yourself for the turns and the bumps along the way. But you have no idea where the road leads or if it will ever end. Will the pain ever end? Will you ever be able to appreciate the horizon without wanting to rip your throat out from crying? Will you ever be able to trust your heart again? I don’t know. What I do know is something that has been asleep in me for quite some time has just awakened, and a new part of me has come to the surface. I grab onto Nas
h a little tighter. Even though I’m wrapped in uncertainty, there is nowhere else I want to be.
Chapter 46
He exits the highway and pulls into a convenience store. I watch our reflection in the window, and I can’t help but notice how good we look together.
He brings the bike to a stop, and I remove my hands from his chest and immediately feel a sense of loss. I try not to dwell on it as I tug my helmet off. I shake out my hair and then ask, “I get off first, right?”
He smiles over his shoulder. “Yeah.”
I use his shoulders to push myself off, and then he removes his own helmet and grins at me.
I grin back. “What’s that look about?”
“You look good on my bike.” A small blush rises to my face. “And I told you that you had to ride to understand it.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. You were right, I was wrong. Are you happy now?” I say with mock frustration.
He approaches me with purpose, and then stops. I see conflict rush across his face, but I’m not sure why it’s there. He then takes a deep breath and moves toward me, first taking my helmet and then wrapping me in a hug before whispering in my ear, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m happy. Thank you for doing that for me.”
He starts to pull back, but I surprise myself by holding on tighter. He moves back in and sighs into my neck. A warmth spreads over me, and part of me wants to feel the guilt that I’ve become so accustomed to. Like I’m doing the appropriate thing by feeling guilty. But the reality is, I don’t feel it. That feeling is gone, and it’s replaced with something much stronger. I feel my face strain in a smile against his shoulder.
“You’re welcome.” I say.
We finally break away, and he looks into my eyes and smiles. “How about a bottle of water?”
“Sure.”
“I recommend you walk around a bit. You’d be surprised at how sore you can be after riding a bike for the first time.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want anything else?”
“No, water is fine.”
“Be back in a minute.”
Chapter 47
I had a lot of time to think on the way back to Nash’s house. Maybe too much time, because my head feels foggy and I’m not sure what I’m going to say once we’re off his bike. I wasn’t prepared for a bike ride to be emotional, but that’s exactly what it was.
“Jen?” Startled, I realize we’re now in Nash’s garage and the bike is off. He rests his hand on my thigh and asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing, it’s just we’ve been parked for a few minutes, and I was waiting for you to dismount before I did.”
I recover and am off the bike in two seconds. “Sorry, just lost in thought.”
He gets off the bike and puts the kickstand down. “No problem.” We stare at each other for a few moments and it’s too much. I turn away and take the time to study his garage. There are numerous tools neatly organized on a peg board next to a tool chest, a punching bag in the far-right hand corner, and boxes stacked along the side wall. I can still feel his eyes on me when he says, “Um, well if you want, we can go ahead and head to your house, so I can start to work on the doors.”
I need some space before we do that. I need to talk to Olivia. “No, why don’t you get some rest? You worked all night, and I know you didn’t get the best sleep the night before.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“No really. You’re right. I’m feeling a little sore from the ride and I just need to rest.”
“I’m going to hop in the shower and try to get a few hours of sleep, then.”
“Sounds good.”
He lets me walk in front of him to the kitchen. I wash my hands, and just as I’m grabbing a paper towel he asks, “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Sleep well.”
I wait about a half hour after the water shuts off, hoping that Nash is asleep. I call Liv and pray that she picks up.
“Hey, Parker. It’s been a few weeks.”
“Yeah sorry, lots going on.”
“Why are you whispering?”
I move to the sliding glass door to go outside, “Sorry, I’m at Nash’s and he’s sleeping.”
“Nash’s? I thought you weren’t talking to him? Wait…sleeping in the middle of the day? Parker, you slut!”
“What?” Oh my God, no. “God, no! Are you serious?”
“Well, I thought maybe the two of you kissed and made up?”
“We did. Only not how you’re thinking. But…”
“But…?”
“That’s sort of why I called. I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, back up. What happened?”
I tell her how I called him in the middle of the night and he came running. How I slept at his place and then we took a bike ride. I tell her I’m confused and don’t know what to do. When I’m done, I’m out of breath.
“And?” Olivia coaxes me.
“And, what?”
“What does this mean, Parker?”
I don’t want to say it. I’m having a hard time even thinking it, but the fact of the matter is, I feel it. Whether I am ready or not. “I care about him…as more than a friend.” I wait and give her a moment to process what I said, but she doesn’t respond. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
“I love you and I’m proud of you.” I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. Lowering myself to the patio table, I put my face in my hands. As I do, I feel wetness on my cheeks. A fifty-pound weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The tears turn into sobbing. I think of Jeff and apologize in my mind to him for having feelings for someone else.
Liv tells me to let it out, and it’s like someone just gave me a green light to fall into it. I start to shake and the sobs rush through my whole body.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Liv says.
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“Because I’ve seen you broken. I’ve seen you go to hell and back. And I’ve seen you with Nash. You’re no longer broken when you’re with him. Maybe still a little sad, but not broken. And you’re not the Parker that I grew up with or who I stood beside when she got married. That person died with Jeff. But I see an amazingly beautiful and strong woman who is going to find her way. And I know you’re scared, but you have to keep reminding yourself that Jeff would want this for you.”
Air rushes back into my chest in ragged beats. “You say that, but you don’t totally understand.”
“You’re right, Parker, I don’t totally understand, and nobody ever will. But I knew Jeff, and he loved you more than anything, and he would want you to be happy. When you took those vows, you said until death do us part. You held up your end of the bargain. But he’s gone. He wouldn’t want you to be alone and afraid or feel guilty for moving on. Kiddo, we all want that for you, and I’m sure Jeff wants it more than any of us.”
To hear her talk about Jeff in this way breaks my heart. She’s right, but she doesn’t know the whole truth. No one does. No one knows about that fight. No one ever asked me what the hell he was doing in that neighborhood at that time of night.
“You still there?”
My chest constricts as air tries to find its way back into my lungs. “Yeah.”
“Have you told him?”
“Who, Nash? No. I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure.”
“About?”
“My feelings. He means so much to me that I can’t imagine him not being in my life.”
“He’s not the type to turn his back on you, no matter what you tell him.”
I lean back in my chair wiping tears from my face, when out of the corner of my eye I see something. I turn in that direction and see Nash leaning up against the sliding glass door frame. He gives me a tight smile and a nod. I smile back, glad that he’s there. I can’t avoid this any longer. He deserves for me to have this conversation with him, not with Olivia. “Liv, I need to go, ok
ay? Can I call you later?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, Nash is here, and we need to talk.”
“Uh oh. I guess you should have kept whispering. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“And Parker?”
“Yeah?”
“Follow your heart, not your brain.”
“Thanks.” I press the end button and place my phone on the table.
Nash moves to sit next to me. “I’m sorry. I was trying to sleep and I opened the window to let the breeze in. I heard you crying and thought you were out here by yourself. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”
“How much did you hear?”
He sighs and then says, “Enough.”
We sit in silence for a few moments. As we sit, I reflect on the many things that have held me back from even admitting that there is something between Nash and me. Guilt, shame, pride, confusion, fear. My feelings have been like darts heading for a dart board. Sometimes fast and harsh and stuck, and other times missing the target altogether and falling limply to the floor.
Nash grabs my hand. I close my eyes and he starts to let go, but I grab on with my other hand. I don’t want him to let go. I don’t want to let go. There is something else that’s held me back this whole time, and it’s time I tell him. I open my eyes and look deep into his. I see it. I’ve seen it for a long time. He loves me. He’s in love with me, and he told me his story. It’s time I tell him mine.
Chapter 48
I shift so that I’m facing him but I don’t let go of his hand.
“There is something I need to tell you about the night Jeff died.”
Instead of squeezing my hand like he always does, he laces his fingers through mine. And the intimate gesture soothes me. I know it’s his way of telling me that whatever I tell him, it’s going to be okay.
“No one ever asked me what Jeff was doing at that convenience store, in the wrong part of town, late at night. After we attended a dinner party at Jeff’s boss’s house, we left and had an argument.”