Until the Stars Fall From the Sky

by Mary Crawford

  I look at the clock in total disbelief. I can’t believe how fast the time has flown. Usually at these events, I feel as if time is standing still and I check the clock every few minutes until I’ve been there long enough to make my polite excuses. This is the first time that I’ve ever enjoyed myself enough to stay for the entire event. Jeff’s words make this the perfect fairytale date. Total acceptance--it is what I wished for in my fantasy man. Is it possible that I’ve actually found it?

  I take Jeff’s hand in mine and interlace our fingers; I kiss the back of his hand and look into his soulful dark brown eyes, ”Jeff, you have made this date more perfect than I could’ve imagined, but it isn’t really the trappings of our date that made it so perfect. It is your company. This is all amazing, but I think that if I’m with you, Netflix and microwave popcorn are going to rock my world just as much. It’s okay for you to just be ‘Every day Jeff’ because I like him too.”

  Chapter 13: Jeff

  I cringe as Kiera’s corsage smashes up against the window of the truck as she sleepily adjusts her position to get more comfortable. She dozed off a few miles ago, mid-conversation. It has been a long night, and I figure she must be exhausted. In the back of my mind, I can’t help but question whether she’s had a flare-up of her autonomic dysreflexia even though I can’t see any indication of symptoms.

  Calm down Whitaker; you are not on duty. I decide to let my mind wander to more date appropriate topics; like how absolutely perfectly Kiera had adapted to my professional environment, charming everyone that met her. How surreal is it that she is close personal friends with Justice Gardner? I shake my head in disbelief as I recall the conversation, because apparently I’m expected to be included in that relationship too. Does she not understand that social situations like that usually require the consumption of half a bottle of Tums?

  I’m not like her. I have to strategize about every potential outcome for weeks in advance before I casually “bump” into someone. I would love to have her friendly, outgoing personality and natural ease with people. As a child, I developed a coping mechanism for my paralyzing shyness. I used to think of my life as a series of short plays. I would play a game with myself. For the next two hours, Jeff Whitaker is playing the role of the outgoing, popular junior high school athlete. Next, Mister Whitaker will be playing the role of dutiful stepson. Followed by his role as the super studly lifeguard. By removing the ‘real’ Jeff Whitaker from the equation, I have been able to fool almost everyone.

  Everyone, that is, except Kiera.

  In less than a month, Kiera has discovered things about me that people that have known me my entire life haven’t cared enough to notice. It is both fascinating and scary as hell. What if she sees beyond the roles that I’ve been playing and doesn’t really like the actor? Tonight she told me that she likes the “every day” Jeff. I know that this sounds bizarre because we just finished our first real date, but I think that she might be “it” for me. It would shred my soul if Kiera found the real me under all the roles that I play and finds me lacking.

  Kiera wakes up as I pull onto her street. I tilt my head and shift in my seat to pop my neck and rub my hand down my face. I gulp down the rest of the bitter coffee that I picked up at a fast food joint on the way home. “Oh Geez, you must be exhausted!” Kiera exclaims. “You still have another 20 minutes to go until you get to Salem. Why don’t you stay at my house tonight?”

  My eyes widen in surprise as I process what she just said. “What?” I reply in a shocked whisper.

  “No! I don’t mean it like that!” Kiera says with an exasperated laugh. “I just meant that I have a hideaway couch in the front room and you’re welcome to stay if you’d like to. No pressure though.” Suddenly, Kiera looks uncertain as she gnaws on her bottom lip.

  I wrack my brain trying to come up with the appropriate logical response to her invitation. Finally, I decide that there isn’t one. I choose to follow my gut — and a few other body parts. “If you’re sure it’s not a problem, I’d love to stay because I’m really wiped out,” I answer tentatively, hoping I’ve chosen correctly.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I see her radiant smile under the streetlight. It appears that I’ve passed the test.

  I left Kiera alone to whatever mysterious routine it is that girls do to undo their beautifying rituals. I just know that it seemed like my sister lived in the bathroom. So, I set out to make myself useful. I find the sheets and blankets and make up the hide-a-bed. I pinch my finger in the hinges, so I search around for some Band-Aids. I find them in the kitchen next to the hot chocolate and tea. Given her weakness for chocolate, I decide to hedge my bets and start boiling a pot of water and hunt down some marshmallows.

  Her kitchen feels strange to use because everything has been lowered to accommodate her wheelchair. I’ve never been quite so conscious of my height before. As Kiera returns to the living room, I am examining her movie collection. Although she has an eclectic collection — including several starring Tom Hanks, Blair Underwood and Denzel Washington — it is clear she has a thing for chick-flicks.

  Kiera looks at my clothes with an expression of confusion and disappointment, “Where did your suit go?” she inquires.

  Realizing that she’s never seen me in sweats before, I rush to explain. “Ty keeps an extra set of clothes in his truck because he’s a reserve officer. I figured he wouldn’t mind.”

  “Oh, you look just fine — in fact more than fine. I just didn’t expect you to look like a jock tonight,” Kiera explains haltingly.

  “It’s okay, I didn’t want you to think I planned this in advance,” I explain. I grin at her and wink mischievously. “Pip, I was an All-Star hurdler in high school, is that going to be a deal-breaker? Because technically, I am a jock.”

  “Well, you have so many other great qualities; I guess I’m willing to overlook that one. After all, how many jocks can braid hair better than a professional hairdresser?” she teases.

  “Very true,” I concede, “this jock is also willing to watch a chick flick. Do you have a favorite?”

  “I have several favorites. Still, I think my absolute favorite is An American President, with Annette Benning and Michael Douglas.” After she says that, Kiera hops up on the hide-a-bed with much less difficulty than I had expected. She pats the bed next to her.

  “Give me a second to put in the movie and take care of some personal business and I’ll be right back.” Thank goodness I had my shaving kit in the truck in case I needed some last minute grooming. Therefore, I have access to my toothbrush and a razor. I clean up in record time and stop by the kitchen to finish the hot chocolate. I pop in the DVD and climb into the makeshift bed with Kiera.

  Kiera lets out a squeal of delight, “Look at you! You made me hot chocolate with marshmallows. You really are a master seducer.” Kiera takes a sip of her hot chocolate and groans in satisfaction, “Oh My Gosh, this is perfect! The marshmallows are all melty and everything,” she says in a husky voice.

  Oh shit! Yes, my brain went there. The moment Kiera said the word seduction every usable oxygen molecule in my body went to my groin area, and I find myself in the awkward position of sitting in bed next to a woman that I really like with the hard on that could chisel cement while I’m thinking about words like seduction and melty — not to mention the moans, groans and whimpers Kiera makes without even knowing it. I desperately try to remember the roster of athletes on our high school track team and our numbers at the state championship. Since I started running track 15 years ago, it’s a challenge, but it’s still not enough to distract my attention from Kiera. I realize that Kiera is talking to me. I will my body to behave itself and pay attention to what she is saying.

  ”… Posse makes fun of me for watching it so many times, but it’s one of my favorite movies. It’s hard for me to decide which I like better — An American President or While You Were Sleeping.”

  I shrug noncommittally, “I like them both.” I turn and look at Kiera as I study her fac
e carefully. “Pip, we joked about this earlier, but I need to know your expectations for tonight — am I still being a gentleman?”

  Kiera blushes and lowers her eyes. “Umm, it is so much easier for me to flirt in theory than in real life. The consequences of this decision are huge for me — so much more than a normal person. I find myself in the inexplicable position of having to discuss life and death issues with someone I am casually dating. For most people, sex isn’t usually considered a life threatening activity. This is so much more awkward to explain than I even imagined.” Kiera’s voice grows more strident with each statement as she made dramatic gestures with her hands.

  I gather her hands in my own and hold them to my chest. “Pip, take a breath, please. Remember, I’m a lifeguard. I deal with matters of life and death every day. I have more training than most because before my life got in the way, I was Pre-Med. Believe me, I understand the ramifications for you. Now, my life has changed direction, and I’m committed to putting bas — butterflies — that hurt women and children away. I am familiar with the high cost of poor decision-making and I would never put you in that position.” I stop to wipe away the tears that have gathered on her eyelashes.

  “Kiera, I need you to hear all that I’m saying right now, okay? I’m 30 years old and just now getting on my career path. When my sister was younger, she made some terrible choices, and I was the only one in a position to help her. However, helping her changed the trajectory of my life. Until I met you, there was always a piece of me that resented being knocked off of my path in life. I understand now that if I had not taken a detour in my life, our paths likely would’ve never crossed. My life is different than I expected it to be, but not worse. You are probably going to think that I’m certifiably insane, but when I think about us, I don’t think about next week or next year. I think about how we're going to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. I’m in this for the long haul. Yes, we need to have the difficult conversations about life and death, children and a thousand other things. My point is, we have a lifetime for that. When I asked you if you wanted me to be a gentleman, I was merely asking for permission to move to second base and perhaps work our way toward third.”

  Kiera draws her hands back and uses them to hide her face, “Oh soufflé! I’ve done it again haven’t I? Not only did I have an astonishing case of diarrhea of the mouth but I jumped to all sorts of freakishly wrong conclusions.”

  I’m genuinely stumped. Wrong conclusions? Does she not know that all she has to do is breathe and I need to take a cold shower? I try to put into words the level of attraction that I don’t even quite understand myself. “Pip, baby, you didn’t come to a single wrong conclusion. I want you so much that I taste your kisses in my dreams. There’s rarely a minute that goes by where I’m not consciously or subconsciously thinking about something you said or did. I constantly imagine what it would be like to touch you or be touched by you. Trust me, if either one of us were casual sex kind of people, I would be doing a whole lot more than imagining with you.”

  Kiera launches herself into my arms and drops kisses along my jawline. “Oh My Gosh! You’re like a walking, talking Hallmark card. That was beautiful. More importantly, I’m glad I’m not the only one. I’ve had this sort of obsession with you since we met. I’ve been trying to figure out this weird connection that we had even before we spoke. It was as if our souls were talking. Even though we’ve known each other for less than a month, you know things about me that I’ve never told anyone else; I feel like I’ve known you forever. I don’t even know how to explain it. I feel this weird power surge when we touch, yet your energy seems to calm me. I haven’t even told my friends half of what goes on between the two of us and they already think I’ve gone off the deep end. I’m trained in this kind of stuff; you would think that I would have a better understanding of what’s happening to me,” Kiera trails off and shrugs helplessly. She buries her head in her hands.

  “Pip, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I feel the same way. I feel like the earth has tilted slightly off its axis for me. Everyone else is acting exactly the same, but since I met you, I’m viewing things very differently. My grandpa warned me that it would happen this way. He told me when I met the right one –‘my somebody’s everything’ — that I would just ‘know’. I know it’s ridiculously early in our relationship, but I feel like you’re my everything. I know I’m taking a huge risk by putting this all out there. I feel like I need to be honest with you because you have shared so much with me. I need you to know this is a two-way street. If I’ve shot myself in the foot, then I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Kiera is silent for what seems like an eternity. I notice that she is playing with a section of her hair, rhythmically braiding, unbraiding, and re-braiding the ends. She doesn’t even seem to be aware of her actions. I take a closer look at the slogan on her faded T-shirt and smirk. It says, “My Dad is a Trucker and He Knows Every Back Road inAmerica to Dispose of Your Body.” Kiera is so beautiful; I bet her dad has probably been tempted to use every one of those back-roads.

  Kiera catches me looking at her chest and raises an eyebrow. “See something you like, PC?” she asks with a smirk.

  “Well duh!” I answer smugly, “let me know when you get to the tough questions. Actually, this time I was reading your T-shirt.”

  She looks down at herself as if she’s forgotten what she is wearing. “My dad got me this when I went away to college. He thought it might scare away unworthy suitors. I guess it did a pretty good job. I’ve never had anybody seriously pursue me.” Kiera answers me, clearly choosing her words with precision, “I think we both agree that there’s something powerful going on between us and I would like to continue to see you so that we figure it all out. You need to know up front that life with me is not always going to be pretty. There are a lot of ugly things about having a disability. I can’t give you a road map of where this is going to go between us. It’s simply not the way that I live my life. However, I will give you some basic directions. I like the idea of a more casual Jeff who is not afraid to break the formal rules of dating. I think I would prefer that you not be a gentleman up to the point where full on sex is involved. I’m sorry, but the stakes involved in that decision are just too high for me to decide right now. If you can respect those boundaries, we click on so many levels that it makes my head spin. I can’t wait to be your girlfriend.”

  The breath that I didn’t realize I was holding came rushing out of my lungs, and I sag a little against the pillows as a sense of relief overtakes me. “I guess it’s time to change our Facebook status,” I suggest, “because, we are now officially ‘in a relationship’. I definitely wasn’t looking for you in my life, yet I’m so glad that I found you.”

  “Hold your horses PC!” Kiera cautions, “before you go announcing it to the world, let me tell the Girlfriend Posse first. They would personally come and hunt us down if they read it on Facebook first.”

  I reposition Kiera so that she’s partially on my lap and kiss her deeply. When we finally need to come up for air, I say, “That makes perfect sense, just update when you’re ready, and I’ll follow your lead.”

  I find her remote and start the movie; though neither of us is paying any attention to the television. Without makeup, her freckles are more prominent. I am sure, like every other girl I’ve ever met, she probably hates them. I, of course, think they’re sexy. I set out to memorize the location of each and every one by documenting their location with a kiss.

  Initially, Pip dissolves into uncontrollable laughter after each round of kissing. As I kiss the three freckles behind her ear, I notice that her breathing becomes shallow and erratic. I move on to the column of her neck. The neck of her T-shirt is old and distorted, and I’m able to pull it over to the side as I place a kiss on a prominent freckle on her left collarbone, her hips lift off of the bed as if I’m some sort of magical puppeteer. Kiera gasps and whimpers. Her startled expression telling me that this is not a common occurre
nce. I can see under her worn T-shirt that her nipples are tight.

  Despite my promise to drop the role of gentleman, I can’t bring myself to give into my baser instincts and rip her shirt off to gain access to her lovely breasts. My mouth is watering at the thought of licking and sucking her nipples. I’d be willing to bet that they are even softer than her lips. I wonder if they are rose-colored like her lips or more peach like her scent.

  I place my hands on her shoulder blades in an effort to avoid temptation and feel her hair fall across my hands and arms. Our kissing is so intensely intimate and passionate, the top of my head is about to blow off and even Ty’s sweatpants are feeling a little tight in the crotch area. Despite my instincts, I’m trying to be very respectful and remember that this is our first date, and I can’t very well ravish the woman on her sofa.

  “Am I doing something wrong?” Kiera asks with a puzzled expression on her face.

  “No, Pip, if you do anything better, I will explode all over this hide-a-bed. Why?” I reply, curious about where she got the impression that anything is wrong.

  “This is embarrassing...but... I’m wondering if maybe you find me repulsive or something because all you’ve done is kiss me. It’s like you’re a flippin’ Boy Scout. I’m just a little frustrated; that’s all... I can barely keep my hands off of you and you don’t seem to feel the same way,” Kiera flushes to a bright shade of pink and bites her bottom lip.

  That about does it. I have to get off the bed and move around, or I’m going to go crazy. I start to pace back and forth in front of the television. I turn towards her and explain in exasperation, “God, Kiera! If you only knew the thoughts in my head, you would never think I was a Boy Scout again. I want you so much I can hardly see straight. The thought of your hands on me doesn’t make it any easier. I’m probably going to run out of cold water tomorrow just thinking about tonight. But, this is our first official date, and I’m trying to be a good guy. Good guys do not maul their dates, no matter how strong the temptation.”