In the end, I did the only thing I could do—I gave myself a virtual slap on the side of the head and finished my beer. Then I took a long, hot shower.
Aubrey kept in touch during her stay at Jackman. Unfortunately, Sarah was being noncommittal about picking up her belongings. I was tempted to tell Aubrey I’d jam Sarah’s crap into the back of my car and deliver it to her personally, but I didn’t articulate this selfish offer. I gave Aubrey the space she needed to be a compassionate friend. I didn’t insist on dropping by to see her, I didn’t beg her to join me for lunch or to sneak away to spend the night. I was the epitome of the supportive boyfriend.
In the meantime, I caught up with my family. I swung by to see my parents on Monday night, and I played the dutiful grandson on Tuesday, taking Patty out for dinner. I saw her safely home afterward, declining her offer of a cup of tea, claiming I needed to get back to the condo to work on my paper. Not one to mince words, Patty plugged in the kettle and asked me pointedly if that meant I needed to get back to sulking.
“I’m not sulking, Patty.” I settled into a kitchen chair, watching her drop a spoonful of sugar into her teacup.
“Yes, you are. Your grandfather used to get that same woebegone look when I’d leave to play bridge. ‘Don’t you worry about me, Henny,’ he’d say. ‘I’ll manage just fine here…alone.’ Made me feel horrid for leaving him, but I knew as soon as I was gone, he’d be into the scotch and watching Jeopardy, quite happy not to have me prattling in his ear.”
I laughed. “I admit it’s nice to have some time alone occasionally, but there’s a difference between popping out for a few hours and being gone for days at a time—”
“You know perfectly well she’d rather be with you. She’s doing a kindness for a friend. Don’t sully that with jealousy.”
“I know.” I rubbed my eyes in frustration. “I don’t begrudge her the time with Matt and Joanna. I just wish—”
“You wish what? That you didn’t have to share her? Or that she’d run to you every five minutes to reassure you of her feelings?”
“You make me sound like a petulant child.”
Patty sat across from me and clasped my hand. “That’s not my intention.”
I looked at her skeptically, and she narrowed her eyes. Now I was in for it.
“You know how fond your grandfather was of kite analogies, Daniel.”
“I know the quotation you had engraved on his bench was a favorite,” I said.
“I’m thinking more about what he used to say about kite flying and relationships. ‘A kite is beautiful and pretty to hold,’ he’d say. ‘But a kite is meant to fly. It’s most lovely when it’s up in the sky. When everyone stops to watch, you’ll feel proud knowing it’s your kite they’re admiring. But while everyone’s eyes are cast skyward in admiration, that string is wrapped securely around your fingers, regardless of how high the kite soars. When the wind dies, you’ll draw the string in, and then you’ll be the sole witness to its beauty.’”
I squeezed her fingers. “Thanks, Patty.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank your grandfather,” she said.
I nodded and smiled, glancing at the ceiling.
“What are you looking up there for?” Patty asked, frowning playfully. “He’s not sitting on the roof.” She placed her hand over my heart. “He’s right there, silly boy.”
I stared at my laptop screen later that night, thinking about Patty’s words. The kite flying analogy was right, but she’d misunderstood. I wasn’t questioning Aubrey’s feelings for me, and I wasn’t angry with her for spending time with her friends. I wasn’t even worried that she was allowing Matt to monopolize her time. I knew she loved me, and I trusted her unequivocally. I was frustrated. It was as simple as that.
With Aubrey’s graduation behind us, we were free to be together, but instead of moving forward, we were still apart. We’d shared a couple of kisses in the Vic quad the morning after her convocation, and then everything had come to a grinding standstill.
It was like being in a bad dream where you feel like you’re running but never actually going anywhere. I was tired of spinning my wheels. Now with my anxiety rearing its ugly head again and recurring dreams disturbing my sleep, a blanket of unease had settled around my shoulders.
I logged onto Facebook, catching up with a few friends overseas but stopping myself from checking Nicola’s profile. I’d foolishly found myself returning to her page several times over the past couple of weeks, and the things I’d learned from perusing her wall had left me feeling wretched. If only her privacy controls had been higher, I never would have discovered the abysmal state of her life. I certainly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to visit her page now. There was no point in torturing myself.
Instead, I clicked on Aubrey’s profile to find she’d added a new album dedicated to her convocation day. Her mom had taken numerous pictures of Aubrey posing with her diploma and several group pictures of her with Matt and Jo and her other friends from Vic.
Then, in the mix, there was a candid photo of the two of us at the reception in the Hart House quad. I remembered the moment. I’d been telling her how proud I was. She was smiling, her chin turned up in that half-shy, half-confident way she had.
While the casual observer wouldn’t notice anything overtly romantic about the picture, to me, it spoke volumes. After all, we’d shared these types of intimate moments for endless weeks, always surrounded by crowds of people. I stared at the photo for a long time, and then with a couple of clicks, I tagged us both, bringing the picture onto my own profile in the process.
I waited for a sensation of impending doom to wash over me, my hand on the mouse as I waffled over whether to remove the tags, but instead of panicking about my decision or feeling anxious about the potential repercussions, I felt completely at ease. When my phone rang beside me, I smiled as I answered.
“There’s my beautiful girl. I was just thinking about you.”
“I know. I just received an interesting Facebook alert. Thought I’d better make sure you haven’t been drinking.”
“I’m jober as a sudge, Ossifer.”
She laughed, but I could hear the wariness in her tone.
“You think tagging it was a bad idea?” I asked.
“As long as you’re okay with it being on your profile, I’m thrilled.”
“I feel great about it. It’s a big step forward.”
“It is pretty huge.”
Frankly, the size of the step was irrelevant. As long as we were moving forward, I was happy.
In my dream, I was a spectator, surrounded by others who’d come to watch. Sadistic voyeurs, they shouted obscenities at the girl whose head had been placed sideways on the large stone. I didn’t shout. I was confused.
What did she do?
I asked the man standing beside me what the girl’s crime had been. He shrugged in answer and continued yelling at the accused who was now sobbing, her whole body shaking as she scanned the crowd.
Then her eyes found mine, and she mouthed my name. She knew me? How?
She needed to talk to me.
I tried to shove my way through the crowd, but unyielding bodies pushed back.
“Let me through,” I pleaded. “She needs to speak to me. Let me by!”
I struggled and wrestled with the barricade of people, but my passage was blocked at every turn. The executioner shouldered a large axe and flattened his boot to the side of her face as she screamed my name.
I shouted back, “I can’t get through! They won’t let me through!”
Large black birds flew at my head. I pushed and pushed, batting at the birds helplessly. My frustration turned to panic when my wrists were bound and a hood dropped over my head. I was immobilized. Blind. Was I to meet the executioner’s blade as well?
“Let me go!” I shouted into the darkness, trying to wrench myself free. “Let me go!”
“Shh, Daniel—it’s okay. It’s me. It’s Aubrey.”
Aubrey?
r /> Confused, I wrestled with the sheets, and then I felt hands taking mine, fingers prying the material from my closed fists, gentle lips at my ear.
“Calm down. You’re okay. It was just a dream.”
“Aubrey?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“But you’re not here.”
“Daniel, I’m right here.”
She took one of my hands, bringing it to rest on her warm cheek. Was this real?
“You’re here…”
“Yes, it’s me, I’m right here.”
Her lips and her soft hands moving across my body were very real. I fell against the pillow, keeping her close, not wanting to break away from her kiss, needing to stay joined to her as if she were my only connection to the world beyond my dreams.
“Thank God.” I moved with her as she rolled onto her back.
“Are you okay?” she whispered into the darkness.
“I am now.”
I dissolved into her kisses again, slipping my hand between her silky thighs. She moaned, but the tension in her body didn’t dissipate.
“Daniel, are you sure you’re all right?” she breathed.
“I need you.”
She didn’t answer, instead relaxing against the pillows as she wrapped her legs around me and angled her hips to meet mine.
We made love in the darkness, peaceful and unhurried, my left hand clutching her right hand as we moved. My fingers slipped between our bodies to caress her. She urgently responded to my touch as I increased the speed of my fingers.
At last, her mouth opened against my lips and she gasped. “Come with me,” she pleaded. Her nails dug into my shoulder blade, and she clenched and trembled beneath me. The world dissolved with my own release, and I thought I might cry with relief. Aubrey was back. I rested my head on her shoulder and expelled a long, shaky breath.
“You had a nightmare,” she said.
“It was nothing. I’m fine.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing,” she persisted.
I propped myself up on my elbow, glad she couldn’t see my face in the darkness.
“Sometimes when you’re not here, I have bad dreams,” I admitted. “It’s not a big deal. If I’d known you were coming back tonight, I would’ve stayed up and waited. I’m glad you’re here now.”
“I thought Sarah would’ve come by today. I waited up with Matt until ten, but then he crashed. I missed you so much after we talked on the phone earlier that I couldn’t stay away. I’ll head back over in the morning.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“That would be nice, thanks.”
She yawned, and I felt the rise and fall of her chest beneath me. I kissed her forehead and rolled beside her. “You sound tired.”
“I’m bagged. I’ll be right back, okay?”
She crossed the room and flicked on the bathroom light, hesitating in the doorway for a moment, worry etched in her brow. I smiled back, an attempt to convince her I was fine. She sighed as she closed the bathroom door behind her.
Was I fine?
Lying back on the pillow, I rubbed my wrists to erase the lingering effects of my dream. The face of the girl from my nightmare took shape in the darkness, her features twisted as she screamed my name.
Nicola.
No, I decided. I wasn’t.
Two nights later, I was alone again. I folded laundry, focusing my attention on the task as if finding the center fold of every T-shirt was integral to the continued existence of man. It was alarming how comforting I found these mundane chores. When my phone rang, I leapt on it, grateful for the escape from my dark thoughts.
“Hey, D-man, it’s Brad.”
“Brad, what’s going on? I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Sorry about that. I just got your messages. You know how it is. Busy, busy, same bullshit, different day.”
“I hear ya. So, what do you think? Do you want to head over to Mom and Dad’s with us tomorrow night? Maybe grab a taxi together or something?”
“Normally I’d say sure, but we have all this stuff to do before we head over. We’ll probably catch up with you there.”
“Sure, that’s cool. No worries.”
“You looking forward to the birthday bash?”
“Fuck, please tell me Mom and Dad don’t have anything crazy planned.”
“Nah, I’m just playin’. Far as I know, it’s just family.”
“Good. I don’t think I could deal with more than that right now.”
“You okay? You sound tense.”
“It’s all this shit with Aubrey and her out-of-control loyalty to Matt. It’s making me batshit crazy.”
“You don’t think he’s giving her the wheels, do you? She wouldn’t stick around if that was the case.”
I contemplated his question and shook my head resolutely. “No, if he was making moves, she’d split. If only he’d get over this girl who dumped him and let Aubrey and I get on with our lives. I have half a mind to go over there right now and talk to him myself—”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, bro.”
“I wouldn’t really do it. I’m just venting.”
“He’ll get his shit together soon and everything’ll be back to normal. Look, sorry, dude, but I’m on the fly. We’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, see you then.”
I hung up and lugged the laundry to the bedroom, Brad’s question ringing in my ears.
You don’t think he’s giving her the wheels…?
I had to believe Matt knew Aubrey was out of bounds. I also had to trust that she’d tell me if he’d crossed a line, or at least get the hell out of there so he wouldn’t interpret her good will as something more than a friend’s concern.
As I put my T-shirts away, I glanced at the bed. I didn’t relish the thought of another restless night. Might Aubrey consider coming back to the condo tonight as she had on Tuesday? I’d stayed out of her way all week. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? Abandoning the laundry, I strode back out to the kitchen and grabbed my phone. She answered on the fifth ring.
“Hi, sunshine, I was about to call you.”
“Are you all right? You sound out of breath.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sarah’s stuff is gone, sailor. I know it’s almost ten, but can you come and get me? I think I’m good to go.”
I had my shoes on and my keys in my hand before she’d even finished speaking.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
In the end, I was parked at the curb on Charles Street within fourteen minutes, racing through the front doors to press the buzzer. Aubrey’s voice echoed around the lobby.
“Is that you already?”
“Yep. Let me in?”
“I’m coming down. Be right there.”
I wandered outside and leaned against the hood of my car. When she emerged, she smiled brightly and hurried down the path, sliding her bag onto the ground and leaping into my arms.
“Hi,” she said, burrowing into my neck. “Thanks for getting here so quickly.”
I took her face in my hands and gave her a long, slow kiss, relieved to have her back. When I dropped a soft kiss on her forehead and tried to pull away, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders again, squeezing tightly. Was I mistaken, or was she crying?
“Hey, are you okay?”
She nodded against my neck and then stepped back, running her fingers under her eyes.
“I’m fine. Hormones, I guess. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve had quite a week. I would’ve come upstairs to say hi to Matt—to lend my support. We still could—” I gestured to the building.
“No, it’s okay,” she said hurriedly, trying to smile as she brushed off my offer. “Anyway, he’s not there. He went out.”
She picked up her bag and turned toward the car, purposely avoiding my gaze. I sighed as I held the door open for her, worried about her tearful outburst, but even more concerned about what was going on with Matt and why she was lying abou
t it.
As soon as we got home, Aubrey fell into bed. I was happy to turn in early too. We crawled under the sheets, both of us sighing contentedly. I smoothed her hair and pulled her back to my chest, listening to her gentle breathing as she gripped my hand and tucked it under her chin.
I hadn’t questioned her during the car ride home, but something wasn’t right. Something had happened at Jackman, and she was keeping it from me.
“Aubrey?” I whispered into the darkness.
“Mmm?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she murmured.
“Are you sure?”
She shifted onto her back, still clinging to my hand.
“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’m just really tired.”
“I don’t mean ‘why aren’t we having sex.’ You just don’t seem yourself. When you got in the car earlier, it seemed like something had happened.”
“I’m exhausted. I just need a good sleep.” She reached up, finding my lips and kissing me tenderly. “You need a good sleep too. Tomorrow’ll be a long day.”
“You’re right.” I waited for her to shift back into position, wrapping myself snugly around her.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me, too.”
I could feel her smiling against my hand which she was now holding tightly against her cheek. I squeezed her fingers in return, thinking about Patty’s advice—my grandfather’s kite metaphor. Aubrey was back in my arms, and right now, she was all mine.
I examined my reflection in the mirror. It seemed impossible that I was turning twenty-seven. In my head, I’d always be seventeen years old and eager to please my father, as if that was the only way I could achieve true happiness. The sooner I rid myself of that notion the better. Here I was, closer to thirty than twenty, and still feeling the weight of his expectations on my shoulders. As I’d done so many times over the years, I wondered why I couldn’t be like Brad—comfortable in my skin and oblivious to paternal disapproval. Life would be so much fucking easier.
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