The problem was that the advice often thrown out in society was garbage. Some claimed that if a relationship was worth it, it would be easy. But other advice stated you had to work at it – that love was a choice and not necessarily a feeling. At what point do you go out and grab it? When do you let it go because ‘if it’s meant to be, it will be?’
Neither of us spoke while we thought. Were Kelsey’s thoughts as jumbled as mine? I stood there wondering if I should fight for her. I didn’t want to hold her back and I didn’t want her to develop a resentment toward me if my situation did end up costing her opportunities. What was she thinking about? What held her back from me? Was it what I feared? Did she balk at the thought of dating me when I brought so little to the table?
“Is this hurting your head as much as it is mine?” she asked.
I nodded. “Definitely. I might need another kiss.”
She kissed me and I forgot about my worries. When we broke apart I looked to the other side of the pool, where the other group had been, but they were gone. It was just us two.
“How was that?” she asked.
“Great.” I pulled her close, enjoying the view, not letting the thoughts the kiss had banished come back into my head. Her body pressed against mine, her head tucked into the side of my neck. No matter what we decided, this moment was one for the mental scrapbook. This beautiful girl had come on a trip with me and I held her. For the moment, she had let herself be mine and I loved it.
She surprised me with her lips lightly moving down my neck. This moment got more memorable by the moment. Goosebumps appeared, giving away the delicate pleasure I was getting from her neck kisses. My hands were still wrapped around her in an embrace. I unclasped them and brought them down her back until I reached her backside. She pushed off the bottom of the pool and wrapped her legs around me.
Her phone rang and we pulled apart. She paused for a moment and then shook her head, deciding to ignore it. Her kisses returned and I immediately forgot about the phone. I briefly thought of my own phone but couldn’t recall where it was. The thought didn’t linger as Kelsey’s lips met mine. Tonight her kisses were softer than usual, with a sensuality that struck an emotional response within me. Was it love? Had I known her long enough to love her? I didn’t think it was lust. Of anything, in the forest had been lust. But as our lips collided in the pool, with the occasional gaze into each other’s eyes, I felt something more.
Twenty-Two
Kelsey
Kissing Paul was intoxicating. At no point did I consider picking up my phone. It could ring all night and I wouldn’t answer it. Okay, maybe eventually, after I exited my kiss-induced coma.
“Want to go cuddle upstairs?” I asked eventually. What was better than kisses in the pool? A dry cuddle kiss coma.
He only smiled and grabbed my butt before walking toward the pool stairs.
We would have made it to our room in record time but we were slow with kissing detours. Once in our room, we tossed everything but ourselves on the floor and crawled into bed, wet hair and all. I wrapped my hair in a towel first, though. I wasn’t not a monster – subjecting Paul to wet hair in his face.
The two of us lay down,and I assumed the little spoon position. He wrapped his arm around me and grasped my hand, his thumb lightly rubbing the back of it. He pulled me close and I could feel his body heat at my back, dissipating any chills that remained from the pool.
“Comfy?” I asked. I knew I was.
“Mm-hmm,” he said. At least I thought that was what he said – his voice was muffled by my hair and the pillow. I smiled and settled further into his embrace.
My phone rang again. I groaned, but Paul popped his head up. “You can answer it.” I sighed and crawled out of bed. Opening my phone, I saw I had two missed calls from my mom.
“Let me guess,” he said, lying on his back. “Your mother?”
I nodded. I racked my brain for any reason that she’d need to call me. I couldn’t think of one, so I chose not to call her back. She hadn’t texted me or left a voice message, so I wouldn’t bother. As I set the phone down, a text came through. It was from Jenna.
Is everything okay?
I frowned. What was going on?
I sent a reply back.
Yeah. Why?
I waited a few minutes with no reply. Paul propped his head up and looked at me. “What’s going on?”
“Not sure,” I said. “My mom called twice and then Jenna is texting me.”
“That can’t be good,” he said. “Bring the phone here. Let my calming aura sweep over you.”
Rolling my eyes, I made my way back to the bed and sat down. “Better?”
“Much,” he said.
My phone received a text. Jenna again.
Your mom called me, more frantic than usual. She asked where you were and I told her. It sounded like there was trouble. Maybe not? I’m sorry.
What did that even mean? What was going on?
I looked at Paul. “Any ideas?”
“Beats me.” He shrugged. “I just want to cuddle with my…you.” He leaned over and kissed me, then his head hit the pillow again, patiently waiting for my phone drama to finish. He popped up without warning. “Although, this is probably about me. Is your mom mad you went on vacation with me?”
Probably. “I don’t know. I’m just as confused as you are.” Why couldn’t she leave me be?
“Well,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, “if you’re going to be occupied with bad moms, I guess I’ll check my phone. Now to find it.”
“Did you leave it in your bag?” I asked, rereading Jenna’s last text for the third time.
“I think so,” he said, now rooting through his bag. “I need to stop leaving it on silent.”
“Do you always do that?” I glanced up.
“Only when I’m with you, to be honest.” He returned my gaze. “I have to be on my ‘A’ game with you.”
I had the urge to roll my eyes and smile at the same time. It was an oddly sweet declaration.
“Aha!” He held his phone up. “Found it.” My eyes returned to my own phone for a brief moment before he let out a small gasp.
“I’ve never heard that sound out of you,” I said, poking fun at such an odd noise.
“It’s not every day I get angry messages about violating my parole.”
My attention whipped to him. “What?”
His lips were tight as he scrolled through his phone. “They’re saying I violated my parole, saying I didn’t report in my whereabouts.”
“You did though, right?” He had told me he did, at least.
“Yeah.” He ran a hand over his hair and paced a few steps. “I never leave the state, and the one time I do…”
Was this a sign? Did Cupid read my thoughts in the pool and give me a nice clear warning? I got another text, this time from my mom. I didn’t need to open it for everything to click into place. “Paul.”
With wide eyes full of concern, he looked up at me. “Yes?”
“Do you think my mom called somebody?” I answered my own question by opening my text. “Shit.”
“She did?” He paced over to me and sat down. “Who did she call?” He dropped his head into his hands, sighing loudly.
“She says she called the police.” What did this mean for him? It was silly of me not to see something like this coming from my mom. She’d probably reported me as kidnapped. Shit. “Is there anything I can do?” My hand found his back, gliding over it. I hoped a backrub would help, even a bit.
“I don’t know. I’ve never come close to violating my parole.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His jaw was tight,
Never? Then I cringed at my thought. Why was I doubting him? My mother was the one who caused this mess.
He fell back onto the bed, his phone held tightly in his hand as he stared at the ceiling. “I need to call my parole officer.”
“What will they say?”
“I can’t believe this
is happening.” He laughed incredulously. “And to answer your question, I wish I knew. I’m as new to the whole violating parole business as you are.”
“Can you call your officer now?”
“I’m going to have to before your mother single handedly gets me a life sentence” He got up and walked toward the hallway.
“She…” I started.
“She what?” He turned around and his eyes were suddenly intense. “It’s not her fault? Kelsey, I’ve worked hard to stay in compliance with my parole and your mother is doing her best to invalidate all that progress. And why? Because my skin is a different color?” He paused and his grip on his phone tightened. “Obviously that’s a rhetorical question. I’ve dealt with this for years, but I never thought the girl I’d be so into would have a family that would create such a damn obstacle for us.”
“Paul…” I said, “I’m not here to defend her. I can’t be blamed for her behavior any less than you can be blamed for Alisha’s. I didn’t choose my mother but you chose Alisha.”
Paul scowled. “You choose to still interact with her.” The twisted look remained on his face, like the room was suddenly filled with the stench of rotten eggs.
“She’s my mother.” How could he not see it’s not that easy to just drop a parent? She was problematic but what other family did I have?
“You’re right. The family ties excuse all of that. The wedding, this…” Paul turned, reaching for the door handle.
“You are the victim here, I won’t deny that. But you won’t get far with self-pity, Paul. You’ve done a good job at getting this far, don’t let yourself fall to the whole “woe is me”. I’m trying Paul. I’ve made sacrifices for you. You’re special to me, I know that already. I don’t blame you for Alisha’s actions, I don’t blame you for your parole making it tougher on us. But if you blame me for my mother’s behavior then I don’t know what to-” A sob cut me off. A tear followed it, streaming down my face. Where had that come from?
Paul’s face softened slightly as he turned his head away and went out into the hallway.
I watched him go then tossed my phone onto the bed, ignoring another text that had come through. It would have been almost comical how this event happened after what I had been thinking in the pool. Comical if I didn’t like this guy so much. I felt like each of my arms was tied to a rope and I was being split apart. Was there a right answer in this situation? I wanted to go places in life, literally and figuratively. But was that feasible if I was with Paul? I hated to think of him as an inconvenience – I felt guilty for the ball and chain thoughts flashing through my mind. Where were those thoughts coming from? Then I caught myself smiling. The tears continued to flow, around the inappropriately timed smile. The situation would be ridiculous enough without a mom like mine. But nope, I had to endure these post-prison life problems within our relationship and my mother. How could I be with him if I had these flashes of doubt? Did I not even trust him?
Twenty-Three
Paul
“I turned both forms into you,” I said, gritting my teeth, trying to maintain my cordial tone. I did my best to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.
“I understand, I understand.” Steve, my parole officer, sniffed over the phone. “Sorry, let me check my computer, one moment.” I heard him rustle through papers. I waited, still pacing in the hallway. I didn’t know what would happen next. Well, besides the fact that the vacation was ruined. Damnit. I waited two minutes before he spoke again.
“Okay, I don’t have the paper or a copy in the system. I think I do remember receiving it, though.” He paused. I didn’t have anything to say so I didn’t speak up. I just wanted to hear what I had to do. “This is the problem with having so many gosh dang clients,” he grumbled under his breath.
“So what now?” I asked.
“We’ll need to meet quite soon to go over this. If you did indeed get me the paperwork you should be fine, we just need the meeting to clear the air. If there is no paperwork I’ll have to report it and consequences will come from that.”
I knew I’d turned it in, but what if he couldn’t find it? “Consequences?”
“It depends on your background, your prior violations, your behavior… really a multitude of factors. I wouldn’t be able to accurately say at this time.”
“Okay,” I said. It could be worse. No SWAT teams at least. “What should I do now?”
“If you want to play it safe, I’d advise coming back in-state. Otherwise, depending on how confident you are that you turned in the paper, you could stay there, but as your parole officer I probably wouldn’t recommend it.”
I stopped pacing. “What would happen if I stayed and you didn’t find the paper?”
“It wouldn’t look great for any consequences you’d have to endure. But again, I couldn’t give you a good estimate until my boss is back in the office - she always makes copies of everything we’ve submitted; maybe she just forgot to notate it on your file?”
“Alright,” I said. Not much else to say. I had to make a decision, though. I hung up the phone and took a few seconds to myself. I exhaled and some of the tension left my body. I still felt tight but I could at least breathe now. The scary part was over, but now came the hard part. Should I go home? How would that affect my relationship with Kelsey? What was she thinking? No better way to find out than to ask. I took another deep breath and shook out my hands, then pushed open the door and walked in. Sitting on the bed, she looked up when I entered.
“How’d it go?” She stood up and gave me a hug.
“Eh,” I said. How did I start this conversation?
“I’m sorry this happened,” she said, letting go of the hug.
“My parole officer said I have two options. I could go home to be safer, or stay, assuming I’m confident he’ll find the paper.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked. “How confident are you?” She looked worried, with her brows furrowed and a small frown playing across her face.
“I turned it in.”
She nodded. “I know you told me you did. If it’s safer to go home, we can always reschedule.”
“I don’t know.” I thought she meant it, but would that reinforce any idea that I wouldn’t be worth keeping around? If I was guaranteed consequences, would I be willing to endure them to stay here? I would. It would be only my first offense, and I valued her more than a slap on the wrist. But it wasn’t that simple. Whether I stayed or went, this could warp her thinking. As the thoughts passed through my head, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was probably only half a minute until I reached out and touched her cheek, and she smiled, but it felt like an eternity. “What are you thinking? Honestly.”
“I’m not sure. I’d need a moment to think.”
With those words I knew our relationship had run its course. My past had caught up to me and given her enough reason to decide that I wasn’t worth keeping around.
Twenty-Four
Kelsey
Paul and I drove home through the night, settling on playing it safe. The enjoyment of the mini-vacation was sucked out already anyway.
The next day, with three days off to look forward to and no plans, I decided to get some errands done. I could organize my thoughts and we could make a decision on the future of our relationship. I thought I knew what I wanted to do, though. Or rather, I thought I knew what I had to do.
At the grocery store I met up with Jenna. Shopping with a partner was much better than shopping solo. We grabbed a cart and began our journey down the first aisle.
“So,” Jenna said. “Did you make a decision yet?”
“No. I mean, maybe. How do I figure it out? I could waffle between the two options forever without making a decision.” I glanced at her and spoke up again before she could respond. “Don’t tell me to flip a coin and then I’ll know.” I glared at her and then smiled.
“You know me too well!” She laughed. “But it works.”
“Did you flip a coin when
Drew asked to marry you?”
“But of course,” she said with a straight face.
“I’m starting to doubt your sanity, Jenna.”
She shrugged. “How about a pros and cons list?
“The only list I’ll be working on today is my grocery list.” I held up the list and shook it. “Speaking of which…” I grabbed a carton of ice cream.
“Just in case you two break up?” Jenna asked.
“Maybe.” I pushed the cart into the next aisle. “But for real, I need to make a decision.”
“Do you want to be with him?”
“Yes,” I said. “But I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if our situations are compatible.”
“The jail thing?”
“Yeah.” But that wasn’t all. It was complicated and I wasn’t sure Jenna would understand. The worst social pressure Drew and Jenna had to face were grandparents asking when they were going to have a baby.
At the far end of the aisle I caught sight of an older man. He didn’t enter the aisle but rather he walked by with his cane. He definitely wasn’t the guy from the incident before, but he reminded me of it nonetheless.
“Kelsey?” Jenna had walked ahead but noticed I wasn’t following.
“Sorry,” I said. “Distracted.” I pushed the cart forward as she dropped a couple items in.
If I couldn’t decide on something, if a decision was weighing on me, wouldn’t the smart decision be the one that would do the least permanent damage?
When I had been first looking to move out of my mom’s place, Jenna had asked me to move in. It was a nice enough place, but I wasn’t sure I was ready. I struggled with that decision for weeks. I knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing, but I was enjoying saving money by staying at home. Ultimately, I never came to a concrete decision, but I decided that if I couldn’t make a decision, the one that didn’t tie me down in a lease for a year would be the one I wanted to make. Was this similar? In that case, maybe the relationship wasn’t meant to be. If we weren’t compatible, staying together would only serve to hurt both of us in the long run and stunt the progress I wanted to make in the near future. I likely wouldn’t be able to move, escape my mother, or find a job I actually liked. As much as it pained me now, it would hurt much more if I put it off.
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