The Truest of Words

by Georgina Guthrie

  He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to my ear.

  “Then why won’t you bring all your stuff here and have done with it?”

  I should have known he wouldn’t let this go. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

  “Don’t shut down on me, Aubrey.” He traced a circle on my temple. “I feel like there’s this part of you parceled away behind a wall, and I can’t get at it. I keep crashing into the wall, so I back off. Then when I try again, I find another layer of bricks. It’s very frustrating.”

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t think I was that bad. You’re not an open book all the time.”

  “This isn’t a competition to see who’s got the most hang-ups.” He rested his lips against my cheek. “I know we agreed you’d stay at Jackman when your mom’s here, but that’s just for a few days. You don’t need to leave all your stuff there. Is there something you’re not telling me? Some reason why you don’t want to make a clean break? You have to trust that I can handle whatever’s going on with you, Aubrey.”

  I closed my eyes trying to bring my feelings into focus.

  “You know how you said I wouldn’t understand your feelings about Jeremy because I don’t have siblings? Maybe you don’t understand what it’s like to be an only child who’s gone through what I have.”

  “Do you need more space? We can find another place—a bigger condo, or a house, so you can have a room to go to if you’re feeling crowded.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What is it, then? Help me understand.”

  I held his hand above the water, tracing the veins crisscrossing his skin. How could I help him understand what I could barely comprehend myself?

  “How would you describe your house when you were a kid, Daniel?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The atmosphere. What was it like growing up in your family?”

  “I don’t know. Busy. Loud. There was always music, people playing instruments. My folks had lots of dinner parties. We had friends over a lot. Is that what you mean?”

  “I suppose. Did you sit around the table every night to have dinner together? Stuff like that?”

  “We tried. Our routines were crazy, but we tried…” He trailed off. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, sweetheart.”

  “Well, try to imagine a different kind of noise—two parents constantly shouting at each other. Then picture the quietness after the argument when they gave each other the silent treatment for days. And think about what it must have been like for the only other person in the house—me—to walk around on eggshells, trying to be perfect, trying not to be another reason for them to fight, and not having a single person to share that burden with…”

  I wanted to continue talking—wanted to help Daniel understand where I was coming from, but all of a sudden I broke down into body-racking sobs, my hands flying wetly to cover my eyes. After years of never discussing my feelings about my parents’ relationship and divorce, after keeping everything buried under layers of casual jokes and stoicism, the gates opened, and all of my wretchedness burst forth.

  “Oh, Jesus, Aubrey, come here.”

  Daniel wrapped his arms around me while I cried uncontrollably.

  “I can’t,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry, I can’t…”

  “Fuck, what have I done? Shh…”

  He rocked me, the water sloshing up the sides of the tub as he tried to soothe me. After a minute, the rocking and sloshing began to make me feel seasick.

  “I need to get out,” I blubbered.

  “Of course, of course.” We climbed out, and he wrapped a towel around me, knotting his own towel at his waist. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He gestured to the bathtub. “This was a stupid idea.”

  I shook my head and protested quietly as he held me.

  “Wasn’t stupid,” I assured him through my tears and hiccoughing. “It was sweet.”

  “Sweet. Pfft. I’m sorry.” He handed me a Kleenex. “I don’t know how I could have been so obtuse.”

  “You’re not obtuse.” I sniffed, wiping my nose and streaming eyes. “How were you supposed to know? I didn’t even know.”

  “I should have guessed. You’re afraid things won’t work and we’ll end up fighting like your parents—if you move in here and we break up, you’ll have nowhere to go because your parents are so far away. Is that it?”

  “I don’t know if I’ve thought it out that clearly. I just feel this trepidation.”

  “It’s okay. I think I understand.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled up at him feebly. “For trying.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, his plaintive expression making my chin wobble.

  I shook my head and sniffed again. “You’re doing all the right things. Talking is good. My parents didn’t talk. They yelled and then shut down. I’m afraid I’m doing the same thing. I don’t want to repeat their mistakes, but I don’t know what’s worse in those situations, fight or flight.”

  “I guess the question is—what’s more dangerous, the ugly words or the silence?”

  “We’ve mastered both. Earlier we said things we regretted.”

  “And then we ran away. I guess we have some work to do.” He stroked my hair and cradled my head on his shoulder. “All I know is I want you here with me. Not just you, but all your stuff as well. Is it okay for me to hope for that?”

  “Don’t give up on me. I need time, that’s all.”

  “Good.” He kissed my forehead. “Listen, can I ask you another question?”

  “Okay.”

  “What did your parents fight about?”

  “Lots of things. Everything.”

  “What did they fight about the most?” he asked gently.

  “Honestly? Money.”

  “Lack of it?”

  “Sort of. My father earning it, my mother spending it and never having any of her own…Having to lie about things she’d bought, hiding stuff in the closet…”

  He nodded. “That explains so much, poppet. Knowing all this weeks ago would have saved me hours of worrying. Isn’t it amazing how our parents can screw up our psyches? It’s a wonder we aren’t all in therapy.” I did my best to smile, and he tweaked my chin. “You look wiped.”

  “I didn’t sleep last night worrying about my interview with Eli. Would you mind if I took a nap?”

  “Of course not.”

  We dried off and hung our towels, then we went into the bedroom. Daniel waited until I’d crawled in and settled on my side before curling around me.

  “I love you, Daniel.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Promise?”

  “Aubrey, I love you so much. I’d do anything for you, you know that. A silly squabble won’t change that.” He kissed my hair and drew me closer. “You sleep, my lovely,” he whispered.

  And cocooned in the warmth of Daniel’s embrace, at last, I did.

  Chapter 13

  Bonds

  …I have scanted all

  Wherein I should your great deserts repay,

  Forgot upon your dearest love to call,

  Whereto all bonds do tie me day by day…

  (Sonnet 117)

  SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO HIDE away from the world and focus inward. For Daniel and me, learning to communicate without relying on the words of our favorite authors and forcing ourselves not to retreat into sullen silence when things got tense became top priorities.

  After unburdening our souls on Wednesday, we spent the rest of the week concentrating on our relationship. We didn’t think about his parents, we didn’t worry about O’Connor and what was happening at U of T, we didn’t talk about Eli or my writing, and Daniel put away his thesis paper. We focused on each other. It was therapeutic and incredibly romantic.

  Holed away in the condo, we ordered in everything from pizza to Thai food, drinking red wine like it was going out of style. We spent an inordinate amount of time in bed, making love, cuddling, and talki
ng. We’d shower and then climb into bed again. We gave those new sheets a run for their money.

  When we’d exhausted our words and our libidos, we loafed around, watching movies, playing Scrabble, doing crosswords, and challenging each other to numerous games of “would you rather,” laughing hysterically and grossing each other out.

  As much as I loved spending all that time with Daniel, by Saturday I was getting cabin fever. I tried to curb my excitement about my evening trip to see The National with Eli. Daniel was still coming to terms with me spending time alone with Eli doing something new. I certainly didn’t want to rub his nose in my enthusiasm.

  Late Saturday afternoon, I was writing in my journal on the balcony when Daniel joined me. He handed me an iced tea and sat beside me on the loveseat.

  “So, I’m driving you over to the concert tonight, right?” he asked.

  I flipped my journal closed and snuggled into his side. “You feel up to meeting Eli after all these years?”

  “I want to, poppet. This is important to you.”

  “Am I allowed to tell him about us?” I asked.

  “We need to work on coming out in public. Maybe this is a good first step. The only person I’m worried about at this point is Martin. I have to think of a way to bring our relationship up so it’ll seem like the innocent progression of what started as an in-class friendship. I’d rather he didn’t find out from someone else and jump to conclusions.”

  He patted my thigh, essentially bringing the subject to a close. “Hey, am I losing my mind or were you wearing different pants before I got in the shower?”

  “You’re not losing your mind. I remembered it’s nearly that time of the month down in the netherlands. Those pants were too light.”

  “The Netherlands, huh? I’ve recently become a big fan of the Netherlands.”

  “You’ve been a regular visitor lately. I hope you collect frequent flyer points.”

  He grinned. “I have to admit, I was wondering about the timing of your period.”

  “Any day now, I guess. I’m not excusing my behavior on Wednesday, but I do tend to get feisty a couple of days beforehand. Distant early warning.”

  He rubbed his scruff and looked at me quizzically. “Do you think I should keep track on a calendar so I know when it’s time to duck and weave?”

  I laughed, but knowing Daniel, he probably wasn’t joking in the slightest.

  My mind wandered as Daniel and I made our way down Queen’s Quay a few hours later. We’d been out of touch with the outside world for the better part of the week. I couldn’t help wondering how everyone else was doing.

  “When was the last time you talked to Jeremy?” I asked him.

  “Earlier, when you were showering. Why?”

  “I was wondering how that prom assembly went—the one about drinking and driving.”

  “I think it went well.”

  “Cool. Hey, tonight’s the night, you know? For him and Julie? He’s picking her up from Windsor, and they’re grabbing a hotel room downtown for the night.”

  “Yes, I did know that.”

  “Is he nervous?”

  “Desperate might be a better word.” He smiled broadly.

  “Julie too. She’s jonesing big time.”

  “Not surprising. These days, it’s almost unheard of for couples to delay having sex.”

  “I think it’s awesome.”

  “I agree,” he said, bringing my hand to his lips.

  A few moments later, we pulled into the Kool Haus parking lot.

  “So, how do you feel?” he asked.

  “I’m nervous, but excited to see The National.” I squeezed his hand. “I wish I were seeing them with you.”

  He smiled wistfully. “Another time. Don’t worry about me tonight, okay? Promise me you’ll have fun?”

  “I’ll try. What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m swinging by Penny and Brad’s for a bit and then heading home. I’ll be fine. I’ll chill and play guitar or something. Text me when you’re done, and I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay.” I looked at him for a moment, weighing how best to broach a topic I’d been thinking about for a while. “You know what, sunshine? You spend too much time alone. You should try to reconnect with some of your old friends.”

  He nodded, pensively gazing out the front window.

  “Calling people out of the blue that you haven’t seen or talked to for years is kind of daunting.”

  My heart ached for him. He looked so lost.

  “Why don’t you reactivate your Facebook account and try to track some people down? You can keep your privacy controls high.”

  “I’ll give it some thought.” He leaned over to kiss me, and then he pressed his forehead to mine. “We should go. I don’t want to make you late. You’ve got the set list?”

  “Yep. And a notebook, a pen, and my phone.”

  “All right, let’s get this show on the road.”

  As I climbed out of the car, my mouth went dry. Sure I was stressed about Eli and Daniel meeting, but I was also jittery about spending a whole evening with someone I didn’t know but was trying to impress. I’d probably go all fan-girly as soon as The National hit the stage and make an ass of myself. Most of all, I was worried Eli would discover I was a fraud who wasn’t up to the task of writing for publication. Daniel met me on my side of the car.

  “Where are you meeting him?” he asked.

  “Outside the front doors. You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “I want to,” he said, his lips pressed into a grim line.

  “And you say my poker face needs work.”

  When Eli offered to drive me home after the concert to save Daniel the trip, I couldn’t think of a good reason not to agree. After quickly texting Daniel to let him know I was on my way home, I found myself in the passenger seat of Eli’s car, directing him to the condo as I replayed the concert, trying to remember all of the important things I should mention in my review.

  “I don’t want to pressure you,” Eli said as we neared the Distillery District, “but I’d like to squeak your review into the June issue. Think you could send me something tomorrow night?”

  Uh, yeah, no pressure…

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know it sounds like a tight timeline, but it’s best to write as much as you can while the show is fresh in your memory.”

  “I’ll set aside some time tomorrow. Daniel will be glad for the chance to get some writing done as well.”

  “It was good to see him. I heard he had a tough go of things in the UK.”

  “He had a difficult year.” I thought about how ambiguous Daniel had been earlier during his reunion with Eli and mimicked his vagueness, not wanting to lend any credence to the gossipy tales Eli might have heard. “That’s the condo up there,” I said, anxious to escape further questioning.

  Eli pulled up to the curb. “Email me as soon as you have something fleshed out. I’ll give you feedback, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Sounds good.” I clambered out of the car, waving as he drove off into the night.

  Riding the elevator, I scrolled through the alerts I’d missed over the course of the evening. Daniel hadn’t sent a response to my text, but he had sent a Facebook friend request. I smiled as I accepted it, pleased that he’d taken my advice and reactivated his account.

  All was quiet in the condo. I quickly saw why. Daniel was fast asleep, his laptop and phone beside him on the bed. As much as I hated to wake him, I had to. He was still dressed. I perched on the edge of the bed, reaching over to ruffle his hair. I expected him to snuffle and blink at me as he regained awareness, but instead he lurched up, grabbing my wrist.

  “Let me go!” he shouted.

  “Ouch, Daniel, it’s me.” I wrenched my wrist free of his grasp.

  “What?” Gradually his eyes came into focus. “Shit, I fell asleep. Sorry. How did you get home?”

  “Eli drove me. Are you okay?”

  �
��Yeah. Weird dream.” He shook his head. “I’m fine. How was the concert?”

  “It was good. I’ll have some writing to do tomorrow.” I rubbed my wrist where he’d grabbed me.

  “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I don’t know…” He trailed off, confused.

  “I’m fine, Daniel.” I gestured to the laptop beside him. “I guess I don’t have to ask what you’ve been up to. I see I have a new Facebook friend.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m glad you took the plunge. Did you catch up with anyone?”

  “No, I snooped around on people’s profiles for a bit. It was interesting checking out what everyone’s been up to overseas.”

  I assumed he was talking about old school friends. If I’d truly understood what he meant, I might have kicked myself for suggesting he revive his Facebook profile.

  Chapter 14

  Open Hand, Open Heart

  His heart and hand both open and both free;

  For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows…

  (Troilus and Cressida, Act IV, Scene v)

  LATE THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, I gave my review a final read-through and decided to call it quits. It would need editing, but I’d leave that to Eli and his trained eye. I emailed him the draft and turned my attention to Facebook, eager to log on and take a peek at Daniel’s profile.

  I scanned his wall quickly. There wasn’t anything recent, so I clicked on a couple of his photo albums. No wonder he missed his social life in England. In most of the pictures, he was in the middle of a group of people, in a pub or at a party. And, wowza, he had so many good-looking friends. Not surprisingly, there were lots of shots of Penny in the mix, too. My favorite photos were the candid ones where Daniel was laughing—the beloved Guinness-giggle in full force. It was amazing to see him so carefree and happy.

  I shut down the laptop and piled everything on the corner of the table, then I tiptoed down the hall to poke my head into the office. Daniel was leaning on his hand, staring at his laptop screen. I loved his intense furrowed-brow expression. I dared not interrupt when he was that lost in his thesis. I was about to step away when he muttered, “Jesus, what the hell is she doing?”