You would run for a million years
But if you told me that you love me
I would cry one million tears.
Now do you think of me
When you’re working?
When you’re working,
Think of me
And do you think of me
When you’re walking
When you’re walking
Walk with me
And do you wonder
Where I’m going?
Where are you?
Just where are you?
And I’ll tell you
I won’t wait long
So I sit here
And I dream
Now if I told you that I want you
You would run away from here
But if you told me that you want me
I’d be here to let you in
And if I told you that I love you
You would run for a million years
But if you told me that you love me
I would cry one million tears.
Oh I would cry
Oh I would cry
One
Million
Tears.
“Wow.” Chris, was the first to speak. I was floored, but I had always been floored when Will turned his voice into something magical.
“It’s not a fantastic song, but being here, this time of year maybe, a wedding…my wedding, I don’t know, just a few words I put together a few nights ago while sitting on the beach reflecting on life.” Will looked at Chris the whole time he spoke, leaving me to wonder if those words and his reflection were about his new bride. Or me. I couldn’t even believe I would even think he could write a song just a few nights ago about me. Of course the song was about his new love, his new bride, Rebecca.
Will put his guitar on a stand and flipped on a portable stereo sitting on the Tiki bar. I couldn’t get my head out of the clouds. The song Will had just played for us ran through my mind over and over. His voice, those memories, the mention of our beach. A wave of emotion washed over me. If I let them take over, I knew I’d be the one crying one million tears. I took Chris’ hand and squeezed it. He needed to be my rock, and I needed him to step up and sweep away the raw emotion filling my mind and heart. But he didn’t. He squeezed my hand back, then leaned forward on his elbows and spoke to Will instead of truly knowing my needs for him.
“How long have you been playing, and do you play in a band or out in bars or something?” Chris asked Will.
“Oh, I’ve been playing since I was about 13 years old or so. When my Mom died, I was sent to live with my grandparents. My grandmother was sick and my grandfather was caring for her. He played and had lots of guitars lying around. I tried to teach myself, but he stepped in, played old gospel tunes, and taught them to me. When my grandmother died, he moved into this house. It was their summer house. He asked me to move with him, but I stayed with friends and other family in Richmond until I graduated high school. It was real selfish of me. I couldn’t see myself in this Podunk town with nothing to do. But now I wish I had come earlier. My senior year in high school I played with a few guys, including my best friend, and got better and better. Then I came here to live with my grandfather and played for him a lot.”
“You didn’t come here to live with him!” I said it so quickly, I wasn’t even sure it was me who had spoken.
“Well, I came to help him over the summer and decided to stay. It was just so beautiful. The sights, the sounds, everything was so beautiful.” He said the last few words slowly, and I picked up on the meaning of all of them. I knew he’d stayed in Deltaville so long ago because the two of us were inseparable. He had found me beautiful.
“Right,” Chris said, finally showing me some affection by placing his hand on my knee as he sat back. “Do you play out in bars today? Do you play around here?”
“Not these days. I spent a few years playing. I spent a few years working at the sailing school during the day and the yacht club bar at night, but I don’t know. I guess I haven’t played there in a few years now.” Will looked sad suddenly. I knew how much music meant to him, but I also knew he’d never really tried to make a full career out of it. He loved doing it but never wanted to commit to anything. Until Rebecca anyway. He sure did commit to Rebecca.
“Are you all hungry? We have some cold shrimp, cocktail sauce, and I bet I could round up some other goodies. We tried to stock up here knowing we wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.” Rebecca didn’t sound at all cheerful about spending her honeymoon in their house. But I guess if they are stocked up on food and the Tiki bar is well stocked, a newlywed couple doesn’t need to steer too far from the bedroom anyway.
“We’re good, Rebecca. Thank you. I think I’m about done with shrimp and crabs. I’ve had enough crab cakes and fried shrimp or steamed shrimp on this trip to last me a lifetime.” I said, smiling at Rebecca. I was sick of seafood. Living in Colorado all those years had turned my tastes away from seafood. “Chris loves salmon, but I don’t even cook seafood these days. I only get it when I’m here in Virginia.”
We exchanged a little small talk for another twenty minutes, but I never felt a reason for Will’s almost frantic voice on the phone when he called and asked to see us before we left. A quiet lull in a short conversation about fishing gave Chris an opportunity I’d been thinking about myself. Chris spoke so loudly I almost jumped. “We probably should be heading back though, Nikki. We have an early flight tomorrow and I guess a long drive to the airport, huh?” Chris stood up in effort to get me moving.
“Yeah, I guess we should.” I yawned. “I’m looking forward to getting home, but not so much to the trip there. I hope the girls make it easy for us.”
Will got up quickly and moved toward me. “I’m so happy you all could come out here for the wedding. All of you.” He looked at Chris and took both of my hands into his. “Nikki, we go way back, and you being here really means the world to me. I will always need you, Nikki. Always. I will always need you in my life. You are still, after all these years, the best friend I could ever ask for.” As he said this, he squeezed my hands tighter into his. Will looked as if he could cry. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to ask why, if he needed me so much, he let me go so long ago. And the other part of me wanted to tell him I needed him too. I wanted to ask Chris if he was okay with our dependence on one another. The friendship we were able to forge after our hearts were broken was worth the broken hearts and the tears. After all the years passed, Will was still in my life, and he was making it clear in front of my husband and in front of his new wife that I mattered to him – still after all the time gone by.
I hugged him. “Will. You mean a lot to me too. We’ve been through a lot together and we’ve always been there for each other. I’m so happy for you. You have found something – someone – I wasn’t sure you’d ever find.” I smiled at Rebecca. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, still, even if in a different way, after all these years, I still loved him so much. But I just held the hug a bit longer instead.
Rebecca smiled at us both as we embraced. Will found my neck and lightly kissed me. I heard him whisper, “I love you, Nikki. I will always love you. I will always need you.” Then he pulled away and kissed me on both cheeks, shook Chris’ hand, and backed away from us both. Rebecca took her turn hugging us both and led the way to the front door. I imagined she was eager to be rid of guests, old friends or new, so she could spend time with her new husband.
“I’ll call you when we get to Colorado, Will. Take care, my friend.” I said as we were getting in the car.
Chris waved and pulled the car door shut. “That was nice,” he said. I couldn’t read his tone.
“Yeah, I guess it was. It was weird in some ways. You know, he sounded so frantic on the phone. Like he had to see us. Like he’d never see us again or something. It was weird. I was almost expecting news of some sort when we got there, but I guess they just wanted to hang out.” I paused thinking
to myself. “Or maybe he really wanted me to get to know Rebecca a bit.”
“If you ever tell me you want to move to Deltaville, please never try to sell me on this road,” Chris said taking the third of many mountain high speed bumps.
I just laughed. I didn’t think I’d ever want to live here again. Odd. For years, I saw myself on that very road, in that very house, with that man back there. Things sure did change over the years.
Chapter Seven
Leaving Virginia was hard, as it usually was. It seemed to take hours to get our things together and out the door to head back to the airport. With the rental car to return, car seats and luggage to check, and kids in tow, we tried to give ourselves extra time and left really early. Saying goodbye to Dad and Nana was very difficult and sad. I knew the next time I saw them they would be older, as would I of course, but with children to keep me young, or on my toes at least. But we gave lots of hugs, promises for long talks over the phone and visits to come more than once a year, and drove away with me in tears and the girls wondering why Mommy was crying. Once we got to the airport and managed our way through security without soft blankie and Goon Goon in our daughters’ hands, we learned our first flight was delayed. One thing Chris was really good at was fixing problems. He left us at Applebee’s while he went to rebook our tickets going through Dulles instead of Chicago. As a mother, I knew my girls would be disappointed to miss all the lights the tunnels in O’Hare had to offer, but I also knew a short trip to Dulles might possibly mean a long nap on the plane to Denver. Or four hours of whining, other passengers looking at us like we are either the worst parents in the world because our children spoke, or like we are the purple people eaters just waiting for a moment to devour them and their suits and laptops the second they turn away from us.
“Mommy,” started Emily. “Can I make the airpane fly?”
“Airplane, honey, and sure, I’ll show you the button to push to make the plane fly and when it’s time to push it. No, Bella, no sugar, please. No, Sweetie, please don’t open the sugar.” I said while taking three sugar packets from Bella’s little hands. She made it clear she wasn’t happy without them. As her mother, I struggled for a moment with allowing her to have the three things in her life that would bring her joy and giving into her wants simply because we were in public, and she wanted everyone around us to know just how unhappy she was without sugar packets. I went for option number three: to lecture. It’s the one thing I knew I shouldn’t do, but did anyway. And once I started with my children, I couldn’t stop. But as often as it didn’t work, it also shut them up, even if only because they couldn’t get a word in.
We sat there for about fifteen minutes discussing why Bella couldn’t eat straight from the sugar packets, and I learned all sense of logical reasoning was long gone. This was going to be a long travel day for all of us, no matter which airport held our connection. My mind crawled in circles; Will getting married, Nana aging just as much as the area, and Dad’s house covered in a thin layer of green moss and years of cigarette smoke on the walls, leaving home again and questioning the strength of Chris and me and how well we fit together those days, I knew I wouldn’t be able to enjoy even the most pleasant trip home.
Bella had two sugar packets open and she and Emily were dipping their fingers in the sugar, eating, and then painting it on the table. So much for listening to Mommy. Chris walked up just as I was about to wipe all the sugar from the table and gave me our new flight information.
“The plane leaves in forty minutes, so we’ll have time to grab a quick snack, but they’ll be boarding in about ten minutes,” Chris told me.
“I don’t need to eat, but we should skip Applebee’s and grab some fruit and plane snacks somewhere for the girls.”
We decided I would do a bathroom trip with the girls, change Bella’s diaper, and try to get Emily to understand she needed to try to go. We needed to get through those moments when we couldn’t get up and rush to the potty on the airplane. Chris grabbed snacks and drinks to get us to Dulles.
We met at the gate just as they were boarding the second zone. Chris took the stroller from me, took Emily’s hand, and jumped in front of the bunch of people. I’d always been undecided about the early boarding, which we missed, for parents. If we got on the plane early, the kids had much longer to sit still, which was next to impossible, but if we got on later, we tended to lose space for all the stuff we parents thought we just might need on an airplane, and we also had to walk down the aisle of shame. Everyone watching with looks that say, “Oh, great, kids on the plane, fan-fucking-tastic. This won’t be a fun ride, and it’s entirely your fault!” I once told a man next to me in First Class when Emily was three months old that it was three hours of his life, and he could suck it up or move to the back of the plane. I was certain he was just angry because he thought my infant didn’t deserve to ride in first class. On the flight I learned to keep her close to my breast and each time she cried, I’d nurse her to sleep. I spent those entire three hours with my boob hanging halfway out, but also with my child sleeping. At the end of the flight the man next to me gave my daughter quite the compliment, something about being such a great baby and handling the flight so well. I was sure he enjoyed the view, because he certainly got a glimpse of my boob at one point or another. Now when I was on a plane with my girls, I had to tell myself it was only three hours of my life, and there would be thousands of hours that would be tougher for me as a mother.
Chris dropped off the stroller and grabbed his carryon bag, leaving me with my backpack, the girls’ shoulder bags stuffed with their lovies, books, crayons, the iPad, and the girls and found our seats for us. We weren’t all together, but we at least had two seats together in the same row, opposite sides of the aisle. This meant two things to me; one adult per child, and one child with the iPad. The good and the bad of travel; there was always give and take with children.
The flight to Dulles was pleasantly uneventful and after barely making our connection, we settled onto the larger plane where all four of us sat together in one row, Chris and I on either side of the girls, with our books, crayons, iPad, Goon-Goon, and soft blankie all in between us. We were ready for the four hours to Denver.
The first thirty minutes of the flight were filled with passing out snacks, picking up dropped crayons from the floor, teaching how to share headphones so they could listen and watch the videos they wanted to see, and keeping them happy and somewhat quiet. There was one child a few rows behind us who kept screaming, and I could tell the mother was at the end of her rope before the plane even left the ground. I was ready to toss her a few books but imagined she was just as prepared as we were, but wasn’t having the bit of luck we were having with our girls. After about forty five minutes, Emily settled down with her head on the arm rest and Goon-Goon in her hands and fell asleep. Within a few more minutes, Bella followed her sister to dreamland. Chris and I glanced at one another with unspoken accolades as if we had accomplished something Nobel Peace Prize worthy, and I watched Chris tip his head back and close his eyes. He would and could sleep anywhere without worry or the time needed for the sandman to sprinkle magic sleeping dust or sheep to count. I put my head down close to Bella’s and snuggled close to my babies. I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping on this flight, mainly because the irrational mother inside me wouldn’t allow me to drift off with my children left unwatched. I wasn’t sure what could happen to them or who could steal them with all of us thirty five thousand feet in the air and with Chris and me on both sides of them, but I was unrelenting when it came to my children. One day I would sleep, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon, I was sure.
I did manage to close my eyes and, though I was sure I wasn’t sleeping, I found myself in a dreamlike state with visions of Deltaville while growing up. The water, the beaches, and the big rocks I would climb up. From the sandy beach to the dirt surface where The Old Red Barn used to sit. When I opened my eyes and looked at my watch, twenty minutes had passed. Maybe I had been sleeping,
but I wouldn’t let it happen again. I did close my eyes again and allow myself to think of all those images my subconscious brought up. Growing up in such a small town was tough. As a kid, there wasn’t much to do, but we managed to do it all. We’d fish, drop crab pots, climb trees, dance on the beach, build bon fires, and play from sun up to sun down without our parents ever knowing where we were. When the sun went down my dad would whistle, and no matter where we were in town, we’d come running home. I felt my eyes well up with tears. Not only could I not go back to being a child, but the day was coming when I wouldn’t even be able to hear my dad’s whistle, and my own children wouldn’t know the freedom of growing up in a small town. We have a great life in Boulder, but in such a large city, even with its beautiful neighborhoods, great family life, and endless things to do, I felt so vulnerable when it came to my children. They wouldn’t grow up playing around town all day by themselves. They would grow up doing family things with Chris and me. As I sat there, I realized it was not the life my children would have that made me sad, it was the life I no longer had. I’d moved a lot, started over a lot, but would never actually go back “home” to stay, and that was proving difficult to face. I knew when I was just over twenty years old and left an area where I would never return to live, to love, and to raise a family, but I was a mother, approaching my mid-thirties, and I was starting to realize what my decision truly meant so long ago. Each time I went back, it was only going to age more, just as I would age. With time passing, I would go back to my Nana gone, another family living in her home, my sister divorced from a man I knew as my brother, and, one day, even my own father and our childhood home would be gone and not accessible in my life. Once my father was gone, and my sister had her new life, with a man I wouldn’t know, or once her children were grown and living their lives, my connection to my hometown would be gone. A tear left my eye and fell on Bella’s head. My whole life I had put various pains and heartbreaks, heartaches, questions, and problems in neat little boxes and stored them away like old China you know you’ll never need again. I felt my attic getting full. I had to learn to process some of this clutter in my head. I had to wish Will and his new bride a happy life filled with love, joy, and laughter. I had to enjoy my family while I still had them in my life. I had to figure out what wasn’t right with Chris and fix it. Right then.
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