Perfect

by Dani Wyatt

  “Shut up. It’s not like that.” But it is, and I can’t stop thinking about him. The way he tasted of peppermint and lust. I haven’t not thought about him and that kiss a day since it happened. It’s scored into my memory.

  “Your eyes say otherwise. I can see the little hearts spinning around and around. You look like that skunk in Looney Tunes crushing on the French cat.” I give her a flat stare. “Oh, sorry, I keep forgetting you have no Looney Tunes experience. Such a shame. Well, if you did, you’d agree with me. You have stars in your eyes.”

  “Katie, stop!” I laugh, as if it doesn’t matter to me. “He’s just being friendly. And I don’t even know him. You can’t have feelings for someone you don’t even know.”

  She looks at me like I have two heads.

  “Did you forget you told me about your little journal you’ve been keeping since the day you met him? Or I should say the letters. I may not have any experience with this myself, but I’m firmly rooted in my belief that there is such a thing as ‘love at first sight,’ and from the cherries on your cheeks and the glowing sparkle in your eyes, you, my friend, have caught that bug bad. And from that email? I’m betting he’s been infected as well.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you read it. And I started it the day I left, not just because I met him. I had to have some outlet for everything,” I snip. “And I shouldn’t have told you about the journal either.”

  I snap the cover closed on the laptop. Suddenly I feel very protective of his email. That’s so strange to feel a bit jealous about Katie reading his words. There must be something wrong with me. This whole move and craziness has me overloaded with new feelings. I’m sure I’m just acclimating to the new normal for me. My emotions are bound to settle down eventually.

  “Dodgy are ye?” She squints one eye. “Ye be best friends, and ye tell ur best friend all ur craziness. Like writin’ down letters to som’un ye wish ye could send em to, aye?”

  “Oh my God, are you still doing that pirate thing?” My words come out snarkier than I intended, and I stiffen my back at ‘taking the Lord’s name in vain,’, as my father would have said. Katie is already having an influence on me. “Thanks for the tea. The scones smell delicious.” I soften and Katie’s eyes do as well.

  I reach over and surround the warm porcelain cup of tea with my hands, bringing it to my lips with a soft blow over the hot water.

  “Listen, I know you were cooped up in this house for a very long time, so you wouldn’t know this. But trust me, Griff Stanford is a dreamboat. He may have been five grades ahead of me, but even I knew who he was. The entire football team used to come into Highland House after their games. Griff was always a gentleman. Always. Most of the rest of the team acted like animals, smacking the waitresses on the butt and generally being disrespectful. But he was always quiet and treated the staff with respect.” She looks down at her watch. “Oh shit, I need to go. I’m on shift in twenty. I’ll see you there around six, right?”

  “Yes. I’m on dinner.” I don’t mean to sound disinterested, but I’m still distracted by the urge to reopen the laptop and read that email another dozen times.

  Katie flutters about in the kitchen, then sets a timer down on the table in front of me. She knows I will forget to take the scones out in time without it. Then she’s out the back screen door and I’m all alone.

  I sigh, set down the cup of tea after another long sip, and open the laptop back up. I want to write back before I lose my nerve.

  Griffin,

  Wow, I’m so surprised to hear back from you so quickly. Or hear back from you at all really.

  You asked me some questions and I’ll do my best to answer all of them.

  First, I guess, I’ll deal with the email question and the question about my father. You see, my father has an unusual perspective on the world. Although I grew up outside of Ann Arbor, if he had his way I would have been raised in the woods with no other human contact except other likeminded members of what would surely be called a cult. But, my mom insisted we live in the house outside of town. He really does love her. She was the only one who was ever able to persuade him on anything. But there was give and take, and he still never allowed me any electronics at all. No TV even. So computers and email were an absolute no. He thought that technology and progress were the devil’s work. Didn’t believe in being connected in that way. Thought it was all a big government conspiracy LOL (my friend Katie has taught me that—now I know it means “laughing out loud”). Seems the government found him anyway, but that’s a story for another day.

  I guess that leads to your next question, what happened that night. Sigh, well, let’s just say his worst nightmare came true. When he picked me up and saw the writing on my shirt, the way it was torn, and the words and the fact I smelled like a brewery... well, he sort of flipped his lid. You see, to my father, the absolute worst dishonor a girl can do is to be, shall we say, promiscuous. Or even to make herself seem as though she is seeking any sort of male attention. He’s already lost one daughter to ‘sin’ as he calls it, and he wasn’t going to lose me as well. So, anyway, that night he told us we had an hour to pack anything we wanted to bring. He threw it all in the back of the pickup and took us to where most of his family live, in an extremely rural area near Gaylord where they’re able to cut themselves off from the world.

  It’s been a crazy few months, to say the least. Besides the month I spent at the high school, my entire life has been sequestered, besides supervised visits to town. The last three months after he took us away were the worst. But here’s the thing, everything has changed and I’m back in town at our family’s house. Turns out it is my mom’s house. Her father gave it to her when they married as sort of a bribe to keep them in town. Everything is in her name. My father didn’t want the government to have any trace of him, so anything and everything was in my mom’s name. They weren’t even legally married which was a total shock and twisted irony. They had a ceremony and everything, but my father refused to believe it took the government to legitimize his marriage. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you all this. I don’t want you to think I’m being disrespectful to him. I love my father. He’s not an evil man. He’s just got some very strange ideas about this world. I know that deep in his heart, everything he does is what he thinks will protect us.

  This is all way more than you need to know, I’m sure, but now you know it. I expect you’re not very interested, but believe me, this is the short version of the answer to your question.

  It was very nice of you to come and check up on me the next day. I also think your job sounds very interesting. Even a little sexy. I love numbers. I think of them a lot like I do music, random notes that when put together in the right order, make something beautiful. Or at the very least, make something that make sense. Sort of like what you do, I think.

  Okay, I’ve gone on long enough. I hope I’ve answered your questions and not made you think I’m a complete lunatic for sharing so much. But you did ask, after all! That’ll teach you. :-)

  I’m sorry it’s lonely there. I earned a PhD in lonely growing up, so I understand.

  If you’d like to write back again that would be nice. I’d love to hear more about you. My friend Katie says you used to play football. She actually said you were some high school big shot. It must be exciting living in Germany. I’ve only been here in Ann Arbor or Gaylord. I was born in this house, actually. So everything about traveling interests me. I like to imagine living abroad, keeping this house as my home base, but just going where the wind takes me. That’s not realistic, I know, there are bills to pay and adult things to do, but I still dare to dream.

  I’m also thinking of getting a dog. I’m not sure why I thought I needed to tell you that, but oh well. I guess growing up it was the one thing I used to dream about having. Being so alone all the time, I wished every Christmas and birthday for a dog. Begged for one. I’ve never been one to want a lot of stuff. So, I think Katie and I are going to go down to the shelter this week and
pick out a puppy. I’ll send you a picture if you’d like.

  Okay, wow, this is a long email. :-) Seems I just sort of don’t know when to stop. All those years of keeping everything to myself are over. The dam has broken and you are apparently on the receiving end of my ‘word vomit’—that’s something Katie taught me too, LOL. She also taught me LOL and :-).

  Bye bye. Hope to hear back from you soon.

  Talia

  After reading through the mess I’ve written about ten times, I decide to delete it all and start over. I must be traveling into another dimension if I think he would want to know all that about me and my family and everything. It’s just too much, and I don’t want to scare him away.

  It also makes me think of my sister. I don’t remember her; I was a year old when it all happened. Seems I was a surprise baby. My mom wasn’t supposed to be able to have more children, but here I am. Her name was Ruby and she fell in love with a boy in her sophomore year. Yes, she was in school and she is the reason I was not.

  She ended up pregnant, and my father demanded they get married, only the boy and his family were not on board. My sister ended up running away after a few months of being locked in the house; he didn’t want anyone to know the shame she’d brought on our family. In her fifth month she disappeared. The sheriff showed up knocking on our door one morning a few weeks later, Ruby’d gone to someone and tried to end her pregnancy. It worked, only it ended her life as well.

  I don’t remember her, nor any of the events, just the short version my mother reluctantly recounted over the years, but Ruby’s memory followed me everywhere, every day of my life. I look up at my email on the screen, the tingle between my legs reminding me of all the shame my father taught me to feel. Maybe I am foolish, believing something real could be happening here with Griffin, stupid would be a better word.

  But, just as I’m about to hit the delete button, I’m startled half out of my skin by the timer for the oven. The scones are done.

  “Fine.” I take it as a sign, say a little prayer and hit send. What’s the worst that could happen? I may never hear from him again, that’s what.

  And that thought has my heart clutching in my chest.

  C H A P T E R N I N E

  GRIFFIN

  “Holy shit.” Rodrick has his hands on either side of his eyes, leaning forward over the computer screen like a miser over his money. “This was worth coming in on a Saturday.” It’s as though he’s putting blinders on so he can fully concentrate on what I’m showing him.

  The cubicle is a little small for one person to work in, but for the last ten hours we’ve both been stuffed in here while we tried to figure it all out.

  “Yep. Holy shit is right.” When I got to the office this morning we started digging around in this one pile of numbers that my gut just told me didn’t make sense. On paper everything looked perfect.

  Too perfect.

  And a few hours later, the puzzle pieces started to form in my head. Now, we’ve found what could be a disaster for the foreign agency the Department of Defense has had us investigating for the last few months. Rodrick and I have kept our ideas quiet. After all, the more senior analysts would have surely pulled the data from us when they got wind of the high profile potential of what we were digging into.

  But now, the two new guys, still wet behind the ears have just cracked open Pandora’s Box and even though the information will stay classified, this is a game changer.

  Even with my laser focus on the work, I can’t keep my mind from drifting to Talia and her email. After ten hours and the adrenaline rush from our discovery, I push back from my desk and crack my neck. We are not allowed access to any personal communications while we are in the building, but I can barely stop myself from running outside.

  I want to check and see if she’s emailed me back yet. I always bring my laptop to work with me; sometimes I sit in the coffee shop across the street and write to her when we work late. Inside the building, we only use the D. O. D.’s secure desktops.

  “I’ll get started on the report.” Rodrick digs his heels into the carpet and jets his desk chair back three feet to his own cubicle. “You want to call the boss, or shall I?”

  “No, neither.” He raises his eyebrows, but we’ve got to be careful here. What we’ve found could make our careers. It could also get us in a lot of shit. “Let’s get it all organized. Write up the report, make sure our names are all over this.”

  “You’re right. We don’t want the ground pulled from under us. You know what this means?”

  “Yep.” I nod, reaching to my back pocket to pull out my phone. If I turn it on I’ll be fired, but they can’t do anything to me just for looking at the blank screen. “I’ll get the coffee.”

  “What?” He’s laughing, looking at me like my brain has gone to mush. Then he nods. “Okay, yes on the coffee, I’ll agree on that. But I was talking more about the bonus.” He smiles and rubs his hands over his hair, swinging his knees as a wide grin punctuates his face.

  “Oh, yeah. Yep, I know, that bonus is going to change everything.” My chest tightens. The kind of financial incentives for this kind of discovery aren’t publicized, but unofficially everyone knows what kind of a difference they make. It will certainly pay off the rest of my mom’s medical bills and the balance on the house. My hope is the good will it earns me will also increase my chances of earning an approval on my transfer request.

  We’re going to have to work through the night for the next few weeks. There can be no room for error on this kind of thing. But if we don’t move fast, someone is going to catch on to where we’ve been poking around and jump into our game.

  Rodrick is from Seattle. He’s as close to a friend as I have here. Both of us were recruited right out of school and we’ve been working together since we started. He’s about my same build, a couple inches shorter than me and a bit more serious. Apparently we are a bit of a sideshow. Some of the gals in the building seem to have taken a liking to us. Too bad we’re both such number nerds we’ve barely noticed. I’ve had my share of female attention in high school and college. I don’t think much about looks, but I suppose from the reactions of females I must be on the green side of the good looking meter.

  I think that’s one of the reasons Rodrick and I have formed a bond. He and I don’t find the usual sophomoric crude discussions of the night before’s conquests from our fellow workers interesting conversation. But right now, I can’t stop fighting the urge to go to the coffee shop across the street and hook up to their Wi-Fi and check my email. Even if we’re right, this is going to take months to confirm before we can even think about handing in any sort of report. There’s going to be zero time off for either of us, and right now all I can think about is her.

  “Dude, I have to take ten.” I’m already grabbing my computer bag with my Mac and slinging it over my shoulder.

  Rodrick looks at me like I’ve just threatened his life.

  “What? Where are you going? This is massive!”

  I’m out of my chair and heading for the door before I reply. “I’ll be back. I’ve got something important to do.”

  “Important? What could be more important than—Bring me coffee!” The question in his voice isn’t lost on me, but it’s just a dim echo behind as I hit the fire exit and take the eleven flights of stairs down two at a time.

  I’m down and set up in the coffee shop in three minutes, out of breath from running the entire way. I’m logged on and rubbing my hands together, waiting for my email to come up.

  When it does, I fist pump the air with a loud ‘Whoop,’ drawing the eyes of the shop full of reserved German locals. A little embarrassed, I settle down and read.

  And read. And re-read. I take two or three passes over every paragraph of her email until I’ve nearly memorized each word. I’m trying to absorb everything she’s told me. I love that she’s told me so much. Such intimate details of her life that I never expected. I’m full of pride that she’s trusting me with this
information. I feel almost paternal, like I want to do everything in my power to help her and make her life better. But the things I want to do to her are less than paternal.

  Now I need to make this project work more than ever. So much is on the line that will make the pieces fall into place. I look at the time – I’ve been gone fifteen minutes already. But I have to send her back a message. My dick is pressing tight against the front of my worn khakis already, and I may have to grab one of the discarded newspapers to cover up my raging hard-on when I leave here otherwise I may end up in jail. I’ve never wanted a woman like this. Ever.

  The other crazy thing is these dreams I keep having. Yes, sex dreams but it’s more. It’s us. She and I, with her belly round and babies everywhere. I’ve never considered it before her, now even my subconscious is in on it.

  I get that for most people, believing that I’m still a virgin would be a stretch. There were more than a few times girls who flat out offered. Just like that.

  But I just never could take them up on it. Some of it has to do with my mom and dad. They have such an incredible marriage. And I’ve heard the story of the day my dad met my mother at least a hundred times. I want that kind of love. The kind that sucker punches you, kicks you in the balls and you still turn around with a heartfelt ‘thank you.’

  I’d never felt anything like that before the night I saw Talia.

  I’ve never even taken a woman out on a proper date to be honest. As pussy as it sounds, I’m finally understanding why I waited. Because this feeling I have right now, what she makes me feel, is what I’ve been waiting for. I only hope she feels the same, otherwise I may just die a virgin because I can’t imagine feeling this way for anyone else. Some things just have once-in-a-lifetime written all over them, and this is one of those things.

  Okay, here goes.

  Talia,

  My head is spinning. I can’t tell you how proud and grateful I am that you felt comfortable enough to share all of this with me. I’m also sad that you’ve had to go through so much. I wish I’d known you sooner. I wish I could have helped.