The Truest of Words

by Georgina Guthrie

  I sucked on his earlobe and slid open his zipper, then snuck my fingers inside his pants.

  He moaned, moving against my hand. “As our friend Romeo once said, ‘Come, death, and welcome…’”

  I’d known his departure was fast approaching, but the arrival of Matt’s final day in Toronto still took me by surprise. We spent the day together, and after dinner I returned with him to Jackman to say good-bye.

  “The apartment’s like a ghost town,” I said.

  “Kinda surreal,” Matt agreed, bending to zip up one of the cases. “It hasn’t been the same since you left. Without Jo here as well, it’s been downright spooky.”

  Matt’s face was hidden, but the sadness in his voice was unmistakable. I sat on the edge of his bed. “I heard from Jo this morning. She and Stephen arrived in Taiwan safely, but it sounds like she’s already got culture shock. She misses her stuff.”

  “Yeah, she sent me a quick message. I know how she feels. Since I shipped my things home, it’s felt creepy around here. I can’t imagine not having everything for a year.”

  He interlaced his fingers and tapped his thumbs together.

  “So, uh, what time’s your flight out?” I asked.

  “Ugly early. Seven.”

  “Yuck, that is gross.”

  “In a way I’m glad. It’s not like there’s much I can do around here…” He gestured around his empty room.

  I nodded and then took the plunge. “I still can’t believe you’re going.”

  There. I’d said it. The proverbial ball was rolling. Almost as soon as I’d spoken the words, I felt the very same ball slide down my throat where it proceeded to get stuck, creating an unpleasant achy feeling that I couldn’t dislodge.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Aubs,” Matt whispered.

  I swallowed hard, and when he grabbed my hand and squeezed it, I clamped my eyes shut. Shit, what was the point in pretending? I relaxed my throat and let the tears flow, sniffing as he pulled me into the crook of his neck and patted my back.

  “Please don’t cry,” he said.

  I tore myself away, dashing to the bathroom. “This is why I can’t do airport good-byes,” I called back over my shoulder.

  Thinking about airport good-byes made my stomach clench. In a week, I’d be jetting to England alone and spending ten days without Daniel, surrounded by relatives I barely knew. I’d had no luck convincing Daniel that it would be best to hire a car service to take me to the airport and get the good-bye over with at the condo. He’d dug in his heels, and I was sensing the futility of fighting about it.

  I blew my nose and surveyed the splotches on my face. What a mess. I returned to Matt’s room, dabbing my eyes with toilet paper.

  “I’m such a loser.” I flopped down beside him.

  “You’re not a loser, Aubrey. Good-byes are hard. I’m a little numb. It’s like we’ve had this long good-bye going on for months. This is just the last phase.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know you felt that way. That makes me feel like crap.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. It hasn’t been the same around here without you, that’s all.”

  “I’ve missed you too. I’m sick at the thought of you leaving. You know that, right?”

  He smiled. “It feels good to know you’re gonna miss me. I’m gonna miss you a hell of a lot, so I’d feel shitty if you didn’t care that I was leaving.”

  “I was about to tell you not to let the door hit your ass on the way out, but then I lost my train of thought.” I smiled at him ruefully. “I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t miss you.”

  He shrugged, examining a distant spot on the wall. “Things are different now.”

  “I hope you don’t mean I’m different.”

  “It’s not that. Your life is full. You’ve got a lot going on.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t miss my friends when they’re not around.”

  “I know.” He thought for a second. “You are different, though.”

  I drew back defensively. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It’s not a bad thing. It’s like…there used to be this little part of you that seemed sad. Even when you were putting on a brave face, that sad part of you was always under the surface.” He shook his head. “I don’t see that part anymore.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, and he held up his hand.

  “And I’m not suggesting you need a guy to make you happy. I know that’s not true. But maybe Daniel being in your life has filled a void you didn’t know was there. He’s grounded you…given you a sense of family.”

  “Wow,” I said with false admiration. “Have you considered writing screenplays or something? ’Cause that was really good.”

  “Don’t be a smartass. You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “It’s not easy to accept that you needed someone, which is why you’re making jokes.”

  “Have you and Daniel been comparing notes?”

  “No need to,” he said. “You’re an open book. You just like to think you’re inscrutable.”

  I laughed, trying to curtail the cynical tone that threatened to creep into my voice.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being unguarded. It’s not a character flaw, Aubrey. Daniel’s good for you. You guys have something special,” he said, his eyes losing focus for a few seconds. When he turned back to me, he had that look on his face, the one that said we really need to wrap this up.

  “I should go and let you sleep,” I said.

  “I don’t mean to chase you out, but I should crash or I’ll be useless in the morning.”

  “No, I get it.”

  He followed me into the hall, stopping as I paused in my bedroom doorway to survey the barren space.

  “You know what this reminds me of?” Matt asked as we made our way to the living room. “That last episode of Friends.”

  “Oh, don’t. Every time I watch that episode I bawl my eyes out.”

  He laughed and hugged me. I could have told myself I was crying for Monica, Chandler, and the rest of the gang, and the pile of keys they’d left on the counter in that final episode of Friends, but that wasn’t true. I was crying because my best friend was leaving and I was going to miss him and his wonderful hugs in the worst way.

  By the time I was back at the condo, I had my feelings in check. I’d barely turned my key in the lock before Daniel was there, arms open, ready to comfort me.

  “How was your day?”

  “It was fine.” I dropped my purse on the bench and kicked off my shoes.

  “You’ve had some tears,” he said.

  “A few. I’m okay now.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t have to be stoic. I understand.”

  “I’m fine, honestly. Tell me about your day.”

  “I’ve been keeping myself busy,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to the bedroom. He pointed to his bookshelves. He’d moved some of his own things to fit my paperbacks on a couple of the shelves. I crossed the room and surveyed the rows of books.

  “Wow, how difficult was it to throw these up here in no particular order?” I asked, turning to smirk at him.

  “Aha, you may think they’re arbitrarily organized, but a great deal of thought went into that arrangement. I’ve had the whole day to myself, don’t forget.”

  I examined the two books he’d just pointed to. “Alexander Pope and Margaret Atwood?”

  “Two sharp-tongued social commentators. I think Pope would find Atwood delightful company.”

  “Hmm. I’ll give you that one on creative grounds. What about Jeanette Winterson and Sarah Waters? Both British, female novelists?”

  He shook his head. “Both lesbians.” I laughed, and he linked his hands around my waist. “I wanted to cheer you up. Mission accomplished?”

  I led him to the bed. “Mission almost accomplished.”

  “Don’t you mean missionary almost accomplished?” he whispered, settling between my legs
with a sly smile.

  Chapter 25

  Tempered Ink

  Never durst poet touch a pen to write

  Until his ink were temper’d with Love’s sighs…

  (Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act IV, Scene iii)

  AS DANIEL AND I waited for our turn to check my luggage, he put his arm around me, holding me close while I wondered for the millionth time how we were going to manage ten full days apart without losing our minds.

  “Remember, don’t worry about data costs on your phone,” Daniel said. “I need to know I can reach you when I land next week. Your aunt and uncle have wireless, right?”

  “I’ll email you every night. I promise.”

  He turned to kiss me, and we became those annoying people in the check-in line who are so self-absorbed that the line moves twenty feet before they realize they’re the reason for the throat clearing around them. I finally had to push Daniel away, mumbling apologies to the people behind us. Daniel snickered, dragging my suitcase around a bend in the meandering line which was moving a little too quickly for my liking. The sooner we got to the front counter, the sooner I’d be heading for the departure lounge. Alone.

  This will be fun, I told myself. The time apart will be good for us.

  When our turn came, the woman behind the ticketing desk stamped my passport and tagged my suitcase. She handed me my boarding pass, smiling brightly.

  “Have a nice trip.”

  I nodded dumbly while Daniel gathered my things, steering me toward a wall near the security gate. I leaned into him, resting my hands on his chest.

  “This sucks.” I sighed.

  “I wanted to see you here safely. You can’t begrudge me that.”

  “I hate saying good-bye publicly, that’s all. I’ll be fine once I’m through the gates.” I gestured to his shoulder. “I’m gonna need my knapsack.”

  He set the bag on the ground between us and cupped my face, kissing me softly.

  I blinked up at him. “I’m going to miss you, sunshine.”

  “I’m going to miss you. Horribly.”

  Daniel’s eyes flickered over my shoulder. I had to go. I jiggled my leg, squeezing his fingers, reluctant to break away. He stuck his hand into his pocket, and with an expression that defied my protests, he pressed a wad of folded bills into my palm.

  “Put this in your wallet.”

  “Daniel, I have spending money.”

  “Humor me? If you won’t buy yourself something, get me something. Or get yourself something you know I’ll like. Please?”

  Defeated, I jammed the money into my pocket.

  “I’ll keep it for an emergency.” I smiled reluctantly. “Like if I run out of undies or something.”

  “I love you, Aubrey.” He hugged me tightly. “I put a letter in the side pocket of your backpack. Read it later, okay?”

  I nodded but couldn’t speak—I didn’t dare. I squeezed him hard, my cheek pressed against the warmth of his neck.

  “Daniel?” I finally managed to say. “I’m going to get in line. Don’t stand and wait, okay?”

  “Okay, poppet.”

  He kissed me, his tongue warm and sweet against mine. I kept my eyes shut, trying to stop my lips from quivering.

  Whatever you do, don’t make a scene.

  I managed to tear myself away and grab my bag without completely falling apart, doing my best to smile convincingly before making my way to the security line. I shouldn’t have turned around, but I did. Daniel was already halfway across the terminal, hands jammed in his pockets, head down as he strode toward the exit.

  That’s when I fell apart.

  After taking the time to stow everything I’d need for an overnight flight in my seat pocket, I dragged the airplane blanket over my lap and tried to get comfortable. What I really wanted was the man beside me to quit clearing his throat and humming mindlessly.

  Shortly after takeoff, the cabin lights dimmed. Hummy McCougherson pulled his own blanket up to his chin and proceeded to snore gently into his balled-up sweatshirt.

  Thank you.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining Daniel returning to the condo alone. Regardless of how busy he kept himself during the days we were apart, he’d be alone at night, which worried me more than anything else.

  When I’d returned home late from an evening out with Julie on Saturday, I’d found him asleep, twisted up in the blankets, calling out to this person who tormented him in his dreams. Would he have a nightmare every night while I was away, waking each time to find himself alone? I shook off the horrible thought and reached for the note Daniel had slipped into my bag. His handwritten words filled a whole page.

  Sweetheart,

  This is it. I’m standing on the brink of ten days without you. As always, when I imagine us being apart, I try to think of ways to bridge the distance between us. So, what have I done this time? Well, I hope you don’t mind, but when you asked me to load those new books onto your Kindle, I added a couple of PDF files as well-both of them written by me. The first one is called The Joys of Trying to Cover Your Ass When You’re Falling in Love With a Student and Don’t Know It. The second one is titled Uncovering Your Ass and Learning to Enjoy It.

  If you’re confused, cast your mind back to early March. Remember that flash drive you accidentally opened? I told you I’d been writing about you since the beginning of the semester, and despite my better judgment, I’ve decided to share some of those thoughts with you now.

  Reading these files will give you some insight into what I was going through in February-I was a mess. The second file is less frightening, though no less revealing. Read the one with the long title first. You might want to have a stiff drink on hand, just in case.

  I hope you enjoy your time with your family, poppet. You know I’ll miss you, but I’m so glad you’re doing this, and we’ll be together soon. Hopefully I’ll see you tonight, in my dreams.

  Lovingly yours,

  Daniel

  I grabbed my Kindle, excited to read Daniel’s words, but a little wary of what I might find in those documents. I propped the pillow beside my head and opened the file with the ridiculously long title, reading voraciously at first but then slowing and forcing myself to consider his words.

  The entries documented our first exchanges, with bracketed insertions added by Daniel later—apologetic explanations to me. I could see why he’d felt the need to editorialize what he’d originally written. His daily documentations revealed that he’d viewed me as a threat, the potential second-coming of Nicola. Paranoia underscored virtually every word he’d recorded. While I might have been insulted by those early suspicions, I wasn’t. They merely made me want to find this Nicola girl, wrap my hands around her throat, and squeeze. Really damn hard.

  At the end of the fifth page, an entry describing our night at the Hart House theater—the night I’d been ill and Daniel had been forced to take me home—the document stopped, with neither conclusion, nor further comment. I closed my eyes, going over everything he’d written. He’d been so tormented, feeling the need to account for every look, every conversation, even our most innocent exchanges, lest he have to defend his actions later. No wonder his behavior in those first couple of weeks had been so erratic and his moods so unpredictable.

  I opened the other PDF file, seeing the reason for the sudden termination of the first document. This new file—Uncovering Your Ass and Learning to Enjoy It—started on the same date that the first one had finished, but the tone was vastly different. There were no parenthetical notes apologizing to me. They weren’t necessary. In this document, Daniel was bearing his soul entirely.

  Friday February 13th

  10:15 p.m.

  I’ve been in denial, completely and utterly disregarding my interest in Aubrey Price. I was so cool, so professional and detached. Ha! How superior I’ve been, “fearing” she might be attracted to me, worried she might be harboring some sort of crush on me-Daniel Grant, the handsome, young TA.

  I can’t deny t
he truth any longer. The only thing I’ve feared is that she might not give me more than a second glance because I’ve certainly given her several glances, and they’ve virtually ALL been inappropriate…

  Here, at last was Daniel. My Daniel.

  In the aftermath of that crazy night at the theater, Daniel had been at home alone, pouring his soul out on paper. He’d been thinking of me while, back in Jackman, I’d been in bed, tearfully agonizing over what I’d thought were my unrequited feelings for him.

  Even then, despite the distance and obstacles between us, we were already connected, secretly meeting one another in the quiet safety of our thoughts.

  Daniel

  Chapter 26

  Thoughts of Love

  O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,

  Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave

  To entertain the time with thoughts of love…

  (Sonnet 39)

  WHEN I GOT HOME from the airport, I went through the motions of getting ready for bed, though I knew sleep wouldn’t come easy. Pulling the comforter back, I found the black nightie Aubrey had worn to bed the night before peeking out from under my pillow.

  Had she left it there to be cheeky, knowing her lingerie would torment me with thoughts of the previous night’s lovemaking, or was it a sweet gesture intended to console me? I buried my nose in the silky fabric, comforted by her scent.

  I imagined her sitting in a dimly lit airplane cabin. Was she reading those files, or was she curled up against the window, too tired to read? When she did look at them, what would she think? Surely she’d see past the idiocy of those first two weeks of February and understand that, after everything I’d gone through at Oxford, I simply wasn’t thinking straight. At least I hoped she would.

  God, I missed her already. It was going to be a long ten days.

  The next morning, I woke up with Aubrey’s nightie twisted around my arm. As I untangled it, I noticed I’d ripped one of the seams. A vision of Nicola’s face contorting with anguish played behind my eyes. I’d had a bad dream, but it hadn’t woken me. I slid the silky garment under my pillow. A nightie, a talisman against the ill-effects of bad dreams? Ridiculous, but hey, whatever worked.