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Beyond Eighteen

Page 15

by Gretchen de La O


  She pushed her hands against my chest again, keeping a barrier between us.

  “Max, don’t act this way. This isn’t really just about who J is spending her time with. You’re right, Nick is an asshole, but don’t take it out on J. It isn’t her fault. This is about the fact that you can’t go with me to the Bay Area. We could have never imagined how this trip was going to turn out.”

  She tried to push me away, but I wouldn’t let her. Every time she stopped me from wrapping my arms around her it only made me more determined to get her in my embrace. I needed to hold her, make her see that I was only concerned about her.

  I smiled at her, trying to let her know I totally understood what she’s saying. I tilted my head and gave her my “forgive me” eyes. Damn, if it didn’t work like a charm…

  She stopped fighting me and surrendered to my embrace. I tightened my arms around the small of her back as I pulled her body in close to mine. I could feel her heart slamming in her chest and her muscles letting go of the tension that filled their fibers.

  “I can’t handle this. I need to find a way to go back to California…with you,” I said before pressing my lips to hers.

  Wilson pulled away and dropped her forehead against my chest. She exhaled gruffly as I felt her warm breath pierce through my shirt, and as if it was synchronized, within seconds her entire body caved against mine, surrendering to the fact that there was nothing we could do to change our fate. Tomorrow she was going to board a plane back to California without me.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  ~ Wilson ~

  I wasn’t about to tell Max that I scared shitless and that I really didn’t want to fly back to the Bay Area without him. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle doing it, or even that I had to face my grandparents’ lawyers on my own. I was scared to spend five months away from him. A lot can happen in five months, and even though I was totally aware that Max loved me, and when I rationalized my thoughts, it didn’t make sense to be scared; but there was still this needling, small voice in the back of my head telling me that he would move on. A low, rumbling voice that told me that, somewhere in the scheme of all things, he would finally wake up and see that I wasn’t worth waiting for. Irrational, I know; but nonetheless, the thought was still there in the back of my head.

  “Max? You need to come back to the meeting,” I heard Camille bellow from the great room. Max looked at me, his eyes mirroring every feeling that was swirling in my gut. I didn’t want to let him go, and he didn’t want to leave; but when family called, he had to answer. I swallowed all the disappointment building in my body.

  “You’d better go. I’ll make sure my bags are in order,” I mumbled as I pulled away from him. Max caught my hand and stopped me from walking away. He caressed his finger under my chin, urging me to look up at him. His eyes searched for every answer, and the edges of his lips curved and curled as he grappled with the promises he wished he could keep. I closed my eyes as his fingers pushed my hair out of my face.

  “Whatever I have to do, I’ll make sure to get to you as fast as I can. Three days, tops. I will not be separated from you for five months. That’s just not an option for me,” Max whispered as I opened my eyes. He leaned in slowly, almost hesitantly, and kissed me sensually. His lips traced down my cheek and across to my mouth before he nibbled at my bottom lip. He kissed me like he was memorizing every last piece of that moment. His lips were moist enough to generate electricity between us. His eyes almost shut as he pulled away just enough to whisper “I love you” before he continued to passionately kiss me.

  I felt my eyes fill with tears. My throat tightened, and even though I wanted to keep kissing him like that forever, my lips quivered at the thought of having to be separated from him. Just when we found our way back to one another, God decided to play a cruel joke and yank us apart. I felt the warm tears trace down my cheeks as they became replaced by cold, wet lines of defeat. Max wrapped his hands around my face and his fingers tangled in my hair as his thumbs wiped away my tears.

  “I’m sorry,” I choked as Max pulled me into a tight embrace.

  “Shhhh, listen to me…I will fix this. I promise, don’t worry,” Max slipped his hand around my head and pushed me against his chest.

  “Max! We are waiting…” Camille hollered again.

  “I’d better go back. I just got up and left the meeting. I couldn’t take it any longer. Didn’t want to hear another word about what my father expects from me,” Max said with his lips pushing against the top of my head. I grabbed the back of his black t-shirt in fistfuls, trying to pull him closer to me. Whether it was just a notion in my head or a belief that I had, I couldn’t be the one to let go first this time. I just buried my face in his chest and inhaled his aroma—it was the scent of a cold winter morning in Aspen mixed with a warm summer evening in California.

  “Baby,” Max mumbled as he caressed his hands against my cheeks and urged me to pull back from him. “You know you are my everything,” he said as his eyes danced.

  “I know. It’s all going to work out. You need to go. Remember…I trust you.”

  My head knows exactly what needs to happen, it’s just my heart…I can’t seem to get past the idea of spending time without you. I looked down at the front of his t-shirt and noticed my tears had soaked random spots across his chest. Max pulled up on my chin and pressed his inviting lips to mine.

  “My heart belongs to you,” he whispered. I pushed myself so intensely against him, it caused him to shuffle back a couple of steps. God, I love kissing him. No matter how long we’re apart, I will never get spooked again.

  “Max…Oh! Hi, Wilson. Sorry to interrupt. We really need to finish up with Dad’s will,” Camille said as she stood in the doorway of the dining room. She looked worn out. Her face was pale and sunken with red splotches just below her cheekbones. Her normally glossy hair was dull and disheveled. She looked worse than the day her father died.

  “Nothing like listening to my father’s wishful thinking,” Max sighed breathily. Camille heard this and rolled her eyes. Max turned, heading to the great room and I spun around and started upstairs.

  “Wait, Wilson, aren’t you coming with us?” Camille’s voice floated toward me.

  “No, I have to get back to California. I’m leaving in the morning, so I need to make sure I’m all packed.” I noticed Max had stopped at the entry of the dining room when I heard him mumble something to his sister about wanting this to be over.

  “Max, you need to accept what Dad has given you. Dan would kill for that position,” Camille spat as she walked past him and slapped him across the shoulder.

  “Well, he won’t have to wrestle me for the job. Gary will find the loophole and Dan can just have it.”

  I don’t know how I could be so torn. I wanted him to come with me, be with me, and follow his dreams; and yet, I ached that he wasn’t going to do what his father wanted him to do. It was the small, hidden place I filled with all the what-ifs that started to drown me. The game I played in my head my whole life. What if I knew my bio-dad? What if Candi never gave me up? What if my grandparents were still alive? What if I leave and Max never comes back to California? I had a pit in my stomach. God, I hate the what-if game.

  I watched Max and Camille saunter through the doorway, pushing and picking on each other. They both were dealing something I’m sure they didn’t expect to have to face so soon in their lives. I stood for a lengthy second before I turned up the stairs and climbed my way to Max’s room.

  My legs felt heavy, my arms longer than they seemed. My fingers tightened around the doorknob as I pushed into the bedroom. Max’s aroma floated across my skin and roused my senses. Lavender with sultry pine swirled down my throat and settled just below my gut. I noticed the white dress shirt he wore earlier dangling off the top handle of his dresser and his black dress pants folded nicely on top, and in that instant, a moment of total freedom flooded my soul. It was as if I was already home with him, and comfort crowded out the fear of
being without him. His words from before, purging any idea of being separated longer than three days, rang loud in my head. It was as if what he told me finally sunk in and my mind somehow decided to process it.

  I reached out and let my fingers dance up to the collar of Max’s dress shirt. The cool, smooth fabric fueled my senses as I plucked it off the handle, closed my eyes, and pressed it against my nose. Unhurried, I inhaled every last remnant of Max in Aspen. The silky, refreshing fabric brushed against my lips, recreating every image of him pulling me tight against his chest. I hummed a low, relaxed sigh as I exhaled against his shirt, warming the fabric to match his body temperature. Moments measured by every inhale and exhale against his shirt were filled with the image of his smile, his eyes, and his arms and how they felt around me. I pulled Max’s dress shirt from my face, held it out, and looked at it as the image of him wearing it resonated in my mind.

  Delicately, I hung his dress shirt back up on the handle of his dresser before I grabbed my suitcase and dragged it across to the high, black four-post bed. It was awkward and heavy as I tugged and hoisted it up onto his dark chocolate-colored down comforter. Trying to unzip it, I noticed the zipper was sluggish. Okay, so the pressure from the clumped-up clothes didn’t help. The way I’d stuffed everything in my suitcase when I left Nick’s house in a flurry came back to haunt me. What a complete mess. I just wanted to pull out the clothes I was going to wear home tomorrow on the plane. I started to rearrange the twisted clothes and small bags filled with my beauty supplies. Not that I’d been using much makeup lately.

  I pulled out a few matching pieces and tried to muster some semblance of an outfit. Pretty soon there were jeans and pants matched with tops and sweaters spread across his bed. Next I folded them and organized everything like it was when I left the Bay Area. As I reached into the pocket of my suitcase to grab a pair of socks and panties to pair with the taupe tunic top and black pants I’d chosen for tomorrow, my fingers caught the straps of the special “pajamas” I’d brought to wear for Max.

  It was my “first-time” lingerie. Joanie had helped me pick it out at Victoria Secret in the mall. Black, silky top with thin, baby-doll lace across the front edges down to where it swept open at my navel. I slipped my fingers through the lacey shoulder straps and held it up. My heart fell into my stomach as I realized I’d never had a chance to wear it for him. I wanted to see the look in his eyes when saw it for the first time. I longed to feel his fingers drag under the edges of the lace, the cool silkiness across my back as his warm palms pushed the fabric against either side of my spine. Pulling at the pocket on my suitcase, I looked in and saw the matching panties that went with the top—a black, lacey fabric g-string, with not much fabric or lace covering much of anything.

  All of the expectations and ideas I’d had about my first time making love to Max became flighty hopes that vanished the moment we really became one. It was completely different than I’d expected, and even more intense than I could have imagined. As I gave myself entirely to the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, it was a point of healing. My thoughts suddenly shifted to us having sex downstairs in the bathroom…without a condom. The thing that was supposed to protect us, to keep us from being forced into decisions I was just too young to make. I felt my breathing become shallow and the back of my throat grow dry. Every thought in my head rang with the intention that I wasn’t going to let myself end up like Candi. Whatever it took, I wasn’t going to follow in my biological mother’s footsteps.

  My head started to spin and I could feel myself become worked up over all the random images and thoughts targeting my mind. Luckily, my phone rang, giving me something else to think about. I looked at the screen and noticed it was Joanie. How did she know to call me? At least I knew she’d talk me off the ledge I’d just created for myself.

  “Hi J,” I answered.

  “Hey, sweetie, how are you doing?” Joanie answered back in a sweetly delicate voice.

  “I’m fine. I’m just getting organized before I leave tomorrow—”

  “Oh, good, listen, I thought about it, and I think it’s best if I go back with you tomorrow,” Joanie said matter-of-factly.

  “You don’t have to,” I interjected.

  “I know I don’t have to. I want to. You need someone with you. I’m the only family you have!”

  I heard what she was saying, and it took a second to register that she must have found out I was going back alone, without Max.

  “What changed your mind? And what about Nick?” I asked, knowing full well she didn’t want to leave him.

  “We talked about it. I don’t want you going back alone. Besides, Nick thinks I should go back with you too. Let’s face it, there will be plenty of other New Year’s Eves,” Joanie said in a reserved tone. I could sense a hue of disappointment.

  “Did Max call you? I told him I was fine.”

  There was a silence as her breathing became the only sound between us.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, flippant.

  “Joan—”

  “Listen, Wilson, my mind is made up. I am going with you, that’s final,” she interrupted in a huff.

  I felt every muscle in my body release. Then relief flooded over me and I couldn’t argue.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “Now, will you be rolling over here in a limo to pick me up or do I need to find my way over there?” Joanie’s voice was light, almost teasing.

  “Oh, I think the driver will come get you.” Besides the fact that I don’t think Max would be okay with Nick dropping her off here.

  “Perfect. I’ll pack tonight and be ready first thing in the morning. Oh, Cuz, we’re gonna have a lot to talk about on the plane ride home,” Joanie mused.

  “Yeah, we have quite a bit to talk about,” I responded in a low voice as I sat on the side of the bed, wondering where our words were going to take us. Were Joanie’s stories about her and Nick going to be stabbing swords laced with my jealousy or will the sentences she formulates be ones I’ve heard time and time again when she’s fallen for a guy? But Nick wasn’t just any guy. He was the one I almost lost Max over. He was the guy who picked me up when I had no place to go, kissed me when I was hurting, and watched me walk away when I knew he was a big mistake.

  “Well listen, Wil, Nick and I are going downtown. Even though the ER doctor told him to take it easy, he wants to show me around Aspen before I leave tomorrow. I think he’s trying to convince me to come back and visit him this summer.”

  Joanie’s words stabbed me in the gut. Forget the heart. Right down in the center of my soul was where her words cut me. It wasn’t like she was trying to make me jealous or hurt my feelings; she was doing nothing more than telling me her agenda for the day. It was the fact that I was taking her away from Nick earlier than she expected. It was my messed-up situation that was bleeding into her opportunity to be happy.

  “I’m really sorry I’m screwing up your time with—”

  “Quit apologizing. You are still my best friend, Wilson. That will never change, Nick or no Nick. Now, you better call me in the morning, okay?” Joanie’s tone was motherly.

  “Okay,” I mumbled.

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah, I promise. Oh, and Joanie? Thanks for…well, everything,” I felt my words wobble as I held back the bubble cresting the back of my throat.

  “You’re welcome. I’ve gotta go. Talk to you in the morning.” The connotation was that Joanie wanted to get back to Nick.

  “Okay, talk later,” I said just before I heard her hang up.

  Every burden and every second of anxiety that had been fluctuating through my body suddenly vanished. It was as if every organ, muscle, and bone took a huge sigh of relief. Warmth filled my heart, swirled in my head, and radiated out to the tips of my fingers and the bottoms of my toes. Once again, Joanie was there to save me from my own drama. She really was the sister I knew I supposed to have. I flopped back across the collection of outfits I’d been mat
ching on Max’s bed and stretched my arms out to my sides. Staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but think about the time Joanie was having with Nick. It was those moments that I wish I could regain with Max—walking together in downtown Aspen, or being completely alone with him in his cabin. I guess Max and I had our flicker of incredible memories that made this trip unforgettable. Besides, I loved the fact that he convinced Joanie, behind my back, to go back to the Bay Area with me.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  ~ Max ~

  When I hung up the phone with Joanie, I was relieved that she had agreed to go back to California with Wilson. Of all the things that happened over that week, the fact that I couldn’t go back home with my girlfriend was the fucking cherry that topped the bitter, messed-up sundae I had to swallow.

  The reading of my father’s will was exasperating. Every little detail was covered, discussed in detail, eventually hashed out, and lamentably revisited until everyone in the room believed they knew what it meant. It was beyond ridiculous. I kept pulling out my phone, checking the time, and thinking about Wilson upstairs packing…alone.

  Shitty as it was, I found myself just tuning out the voices in the room. Every moan, snivel, whimper, and demand was wasted on me. I didn’t mean to be inconsiderate or selfish, but I never signed up to run my father’s company. I didn’t need to know who holds what portion of GP, or how the shares in GP were going to be split between the living. All I wanted was to have my own life, doing something a hell of a lot different than running a company whose profits and losses fluctuated on the supply and demand of the weather or the planet’s seasons.

  “How do you feel about that, Max?” Dan’s voice shattered every thought in my head.

  “What?” I barked.

  “Everyone was just discussing the options of liquidating GP. Camille asked you your thoughts about it.”

  I looked at Dad’s lawyer, then Dan, then over at Calvin, Camille, and finally my mom. Everyone’s mouth hung gaping open, waiting to hear my thoughts. I was so disengaged they could have just sold everything I owned and I wouldn’t have known it.

 

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