Making Her Wait

by Brianna Cash

“Genny, you have to let Uncle Walk say sorry. And you have to forgive him. You have to!”

  She drops to her knees, wrapping him up like she’s wanted to the entire time she’s known I was here in this house. “I can’t, Zeke. I’m not a strong enough person for that. I gotta go, kiddo. I love you.”

  Zeke pushes her away, just enough so he can see her face. It’s streaked with tears, breaking my own heart as well as Zeke’s. He runs his fingers across her cheek, something she’s done to me many times. Something I desperately miss. Something she apparently taught Zeke to do to her.

  This time when she gets up to leave, he doesn’t stop her. Instead he glares at me, upset that I hurt his friend, upset that I made her leave, upset that I ended his precious time with her.

  He glares up at me. “You made Genny cry.”

  “I did, Bud. I didn’t want to, but I did.”

  Zeke’s eyes turn soft, and he watches me curiously before letting out a very big sigh for his very small body. “Are you sad, Uncle Walk?”

  “I am.” Sitting on his bed, I rub the back of my head, wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to talk to her again. “I really miss Genny.”

  He crawls into my lap, doing his best to comfort me. “I love Genny,” he whispers, patting my back as his mother often does to him and his younger brother.

  “I do, too Zeke. I love Genny, too.”

  Genny

  The backdoor slams, letting me know Callie’s home from looking at another apartment. Rushing into the kitchen, she hugs me from behind, letting out an excited squeal in my ear. I plaster a smile on my face as I spin around to face her, dreading the news I’m about to hear.

  “I found an apartment! It’s amazing! The rooms are big, the kitchen is updated, there’s actual counter space in the bathroom! It’s perfect!”

  “That’s awesome Callie. I told you it would happen sooner or later.”

  “It also has two bedrooms, so you can accept that offer on the house and move in with me until you find your own place.”

  I turn back around with a sigh, knowing that isn’t the reason I’m dragging my feet on selling the house.

  “You know you’re just going to be depressed living here by yourself, Gen. It’s not healthy for you to stay here alone. I know you.”

  “I know, Callie. You’re right, I just… It’s hard to say goodbye.”

  “Because you never did before. You didn’t get to say goodbye to Mom and Dad. You didn’t get to say goodbye to college because you never went back. You never got to say goodbye to anyone or anything that was important to you.”

  Thinking back through my life, I try to find something that will prove her wrong. I’ve said goodbye many times. In my head. Maybe I never got to say it in person, but I eventually come to terms with things in my own time. “Paul! I said goodbye to Paul.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she insists gently. “You walked out when he gave you his ultimatum and then texted him to never contact you again. You’ve never said goodbye. Maybe if you say goodbye to Walker, moving out of this house won’t be so hard for you.”

  “You, Myra, Michelle… Why does everyone think I need to talk to Walker?” Throwing my frustrated hands in the air, I stomp my way out of the kitchen and into the living room where I stand in front of the couch, willing my tears to stay in my eyes and not fall. “It’s not going to help! It’s just going to make things worse. Why can’t anyone understand that?”

  “Why can’t you try it?”

  “Because it hurts so fucking much to even think about him! Seeing him last weekend just about broke me, Callie. I can’t do it again. I can’t.”

  My sister takes my hands and pulls me to sit on the couch with her. “That just tells me you need to. Yell at him, scream at him, curse the day he was born, but do it to his face. Let him know how much he hurt you. Listen to what he has to say. Then scream at him again. I’m not saying it won’t hurt, but I’ll be here for you when it’s over. I’ll order your favorite pizza, buy you a carton of your favorite ice cream, and sit with you all night, listening to you tell me how unfair life is. You deserve a full-blown pity party and I’ll gladly be the host... At least think about it, ok?”

  “I’ll think about it. And I’ll ask Kane to convince you pansy girls to stop bugging me about talking to Walker. I’ll bet he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. Guys know it’s better to stuff your feelings rather than talk about them.”

  “Really? Walker never talked about his feelings?”

  “Shut up.” The desperate plea comes out of my mouth as a harsh demand.

  “That’s what I thought. But go ahead and talk to Kane anyway. I’ll bet he agrees with us pansy girls. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to relationships.”

  Dammit, she’s right. Casey, the girl he’s seeing now is always telling me about the sweet ways he shows her he cares. He’s big on talking about his feelings. He just does it in obnoxious, overly exaggerated ways.

  Callie sees me start to cave and gives me a smile.

  “I’ll think about it,” I mumble miserably. “But if I decide to do it, you’d better be on call. If you skip out on me, I’ll kill you before dying of a broken heart. Then Calvin will have to deal with this house. At least my funeral will be easy. Him, Kane, Myra and Michelle. Yours will be a pain in the ass to deal with. Maybe he can combine them so mine doesn’t look quite so pathetic.”

  “You’re so morbid lately.” She rolls her eyes at my rare drama queen moment. “I get the keys to my new place in ten days, so I’m gonna kill you slowly and start bringing all my boxes from my bedroom downstairs. I’m expecting you to be my roommate, so let me know when I can give you the spare key without an argument.”

  She leaves me sitting on the couch in front of an empty TV screen. She leaves me sitting in the middle of a half-assed pity party that I’ve been living in for months. She leaves me thinking about Walker, which is the last thing I should be thinking about.

  But the most important thing is, she’s leaving me.

  Everyone is moving on except me.

  Maybe I should try to get some closure from Walker. If for no other reason than to be able to say that I did everything I could to move on.

  Walker

  Genny: Maybe we should talk.

  The last thing I expected on my phone tonight was a text from Genny. I don’t know how to respond. I want to talk to her more than anything, but I’m afraid whatever I say will piss her off and change her mind. Finally, I type out the simplest message I’ve probably ever sent her.

  Walker: Ok.

  Genny: It should be somewhere I can yell, and it won’t offend anyone except you.

  Smiling, I realize how much I’ve missed the way she doesn’t shy away from whatever she’s feeling. At least not with me. She owns it, whether it’s justified or not. Whether it’s rational or not.

  If we meet to talk, everything she might say will be justified. I don’t know about the rational part…

  Walker: Ok.

  Genny: I’m probably not going to be very nice to you.

  Walker: I deserve whatever you have to say, G.

  Calling her G is taking a chance. It might piss her off, it might make her cry, it might make her miss me. It might make her feel a lot of different things that make her want to shut me out again. But, God, I miss her. I don’t care if she yells at me and calls me every bad thing she can come up with, she’ll still be communicating with me again.

  Part of me knows this might be it. The end. The thing she needs to move on and forget me.

  But part of me is still flooded with hope that maybe, just maybe, she’ll hear my apology and accept it. Maybe she’ll realize she still loves me, and she’ll give me a chance to prove that I love her just as much. That I was a fool for not trusting her. That if she gives me another chance, I won’t question her ever again, because she’s an even better person than I gave her credit for.

  Which is kinda scary, considering how amazing I thought she was before she magically got
Chad to sign those papers.

  It takes her a long time to reply, and I start to question if I already fucked up again. I debate on typing out an apology for using her nickname, letting it go, or begging her to please meet and talk to me.

  In the end, I let it go, having a feeling the more I say, the less chance I have of this ever happening.

  Letting out a heavy sigh, I put the phone on the table beside me and go back to watching the first college football game of the season. I’m seeing it, but not paying attention. Instead, I’m trying to figure out how to say the things I want to say to Genny. How to make her understand how sorry I am, how horrible I feel for not trusting her. How guilty and ashamed I am of the things I said to her.

  The game is over and I’m climbing in bed when another text comes though.

  Genny: You know the trail that goes to Widow’s Peak?

  The entrance to the trail is just a few miles past Genny’s house. It’s a popular running trail. A lot of people walk their dogs along the trail. Some people bike it. I wonder if that’s where Kane and Genny were when I saw them on their bikes.

  Walker: Yes.

  Genny: We can meet there. When works for you?

  Walker: Anytime. Whatever works for you.

  It takes her ten minutes to answer me. She’s probably not sure if she’s doing the right thing. I vow to myself that when she leaves after meeting with me, she’ll know it was.

  Genny: Tomorrow? 1pm?

  Walker: I’ll be there.

  Walker

  I’m twenty minutes early. Possibly a little excessive, but I need to make sure I don’t fuck this up, and if I’m late, I’ll be fucking it up from the start.

  My morning was spent at Reese’s, explaining why I wouldn’t be there for lunch and asking what she thinks I should say. She doesn’t know Genny well, but the things she ticked off her fingers were similar to the list I’ve already got in my mind.

  She told me to let Genny talk first and to not interrupt her no matter what she says or how much it might hurt me. And to not touch her. That’s all gonna be tough to do, because there’s so much I want to tell Genny. I think me apologizing should be the first thing said, but Reese shook her head and made me promise to follow her instructions.

  After promising I would let Genny talk first and not interrupt, Reese told me that may be the most important promise I’ve made so far in my life.

  I don’t know if that’s true, but I’ll treat it like it is. Reese is a strong, independent, stubborn girl. Genny is a strong, independent, stubborn girl. They’re a lot alike and entirely different all at the same time. I’ll treat anything Reese says about my upcoming talk with Genny like treasured gold. Without Reese’s manipulative interference in my love life, I never would’ve been able to see Genny in the first place. Or tell her I knew exactly how much of an ass I had been and that I wanted to apologize to her. Even though those few heart-wrenching minutes filled me with hopeless despair, I know for a fact without that surprise meeting, I would not be standing here waiting for my girl.

  Waiting for Genny, I correct myself. In my heart, she’ll always be my girl. But I probably shouldn’t call her that right now. At least not when anyone can hear me.

  Remembering all the rules I need to follow for this meeting is going to be hard.

  Genny’s car pulls in ten minutes after I get here. I watch her from where I’m standing, giving her some space and letting her come to me. It’s not what I want to do. It’s what I think I should do.

  I’m not used to having to think so much about every move I make with her.

  Maybe that’s what got me in this position in the first place. Maybe if I’d thought about it, I would have realized that Genny never would have fucked Chad right under my nose, let alone at all. After everything she learned about him, she was just as disgusted with him as I was.

  Her hands slide nervously on her favorite pair of daisy dukes, the ones she says shows off her legs to the best advantage. She wanted some extra confidence, I guess. If she knew how stunningly gorgeous I think she is, she would know she doesn’t need it.

  Her hair is pulled out of her face, up in a long ponytail, probably to keep her neck cool in this blistering late August heat. She’s wearing a simple V-neck shirt and hiking shoes, carrying a water bottle in her hand. I wasn’t sure if we were walking the trail or just meeting here so she could yell not very nice things at me. It looks like we’re taking the trail. I’m glad. It means her yelling at me is going to take more than two minutes.

  She can yell at me for the rest of my life if it keeps her talking to me.

  “Hi,” she says, stopping just out of my reach. Her eyes look past me, and I resist the urge to step closer and tilt her chin, to force her eyes to meet mine. “I thought we could walk so I don’t have to look at you.”

  Very good thing I resisted that urge.

  I try to not let her words hurt me. She’s just being honest. I’m sure there’s a lot worse to come.

  “Ok.”

  Starting down the trail, we walk side by side. The silence is deafening. The waiting, torturous. But I’m with her, so I tell myself to calm the fuck down. To let it happen however she wants it to happen.

  A few minutes later, she starts talking. I recognize the random string of sentences that sound a lot like the rambled reasonings she gave for her emotional breakdown that last day we were together. The words and sentences are different, but what she’s doing is the same. She’s trying to figure out what she’s feeling, what she wants, so she can try to explain it to me. I do my best to hear it all, knowing I’ll be analyzing every single word later.

  “Everyone keeps telling me that I need to talk to you, to get closure. What the fuck is closure, though? I looked it up. It’s feeling like an emotional experience has been resolved. How the hell can that happen after what you did to me? You’re always going to be my biggest regret. I mean, how easy was I? Not in the physical sense, although we can both agree I was easy in that aspect, too, but emotionally?”

  She scoffs at herself, rolling her eyes toward the sky.

  “You asked me to open up and let you in,” she continues, telling me part of our story that I’m already familiar with. “I thought about it for all of two minutes and said ok. No one’s ever wanted to know me the way you did. No one even realized they didn’t know me. You saw past the girl I showed the world and asked for the real me. And I was so happy to finally be seen, I wanted to give you all of me. When you asked me questions, I was scared, sure, but you made me feel safe. You made me feel like you were going to be there for me, no matter what the answers were, that you liked me for who I was. And while my baggage and my past is something that would scare a lot of people, you didn’t run. You made me feel like I was a good person after what I’d been through.”

  I did think she was a good person. I still do. And I liked everything about her. Everything except the way she handled stress.

  “I can see how you might’ve found it hard to trust me about sex. But I promised you I wouldn’t be with anyone except you. I told you when I gave up my boytoys. I was scared to give Chad up, and I realized that was because sex was my go-to. Once I cut it off with Chad, I would have nothing left, no coping mechanisms at all, and I would have to fumble my way through the stress, find new ways to handle everything... It was terrifying.”

  She takes a deep breath, letting it out so slowly before continuing.

  Still without looking at me even once.

  “After I told you about my parents, you held me while I cried, and I felt like someone finally wanted to protect me. That I wasn’t alone anymore. I knew I had to do the right thing and give you all of me. So, I texted Chad the next morning before my migraine hit and told him to lose my number... I gave it all up for you. I trusted you. I wanted you. I loved you. I didn’t know it at that point, but I did, I already loved you then.”

  She broke it off with Chad and didn’t tell me? That long ago?!

  She made good on her promise, and
I never asked because I was afraid of her answer. I assumed she didn’t follow through. I assumed she wasn’t all in with me when she was. Almost the entire time.

  “I started thinking about a future with you, Walker. About us, together, for the long term, not just the here and now. I started picturing us with a house of our own, with kids of our own, who would be close to your nephews and our siblings, and we’d be happy because we were together, and you made me happy.”

  She stops in the middle of the track, turning away from me, wiping her eyes, doubling over with emotion. “Dammit, Walker. You made me so fucking happy.”

  Genny takes a few uneven breathes, her hands on her face, covering her eyes, her back to me. It takes everything in me to not touch her, to not hold her, to not tell her she made me really fucking happy, too, and I know I fucked it up and hurt her this much. But Reese’s voice is there, in the back of my mind, reminding me to let Genny talk until she’s done. To not interrupt or ask questions. To not touch her, under any circumstances, unless it’s a crystal-clear invitation.

  It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  Eventually, Genny gets her emotions under control and stands up straight. She breathes deeply, in through her nose, exhaling out of her mouth, trying to get her head together. Then we’re walking again, making our way up the gently sloping hill through the woods to the top of Widow’s Peak.

  “I can’t say at times I didn’t doubt it,” she says, picking up her speech as if she never lost control. “I had to change the way I thought about everything for you. It’s probably a much healthier way to look at some things, especially sex, but it was new and different, and it was hard to trust it. I’m not saying I didn’t trust you. I did, without question. It was just hard to trust this new way of looking at things. Of how things worked when I looked at the big picture and not just the little piece of the world I knew. And that last day, I had a major emotional breakdown and you didn’t freak out on me. You were still there for me. I found that if I could talk about it, we could figure it out together. It might be crazy but breaking down on you made it so easy for me to see that we could make it. We could talk things out and compromise and make things work. Which made me realize that it didn’t matter when you finally had sex with me, because we had forever. Because I loved you, and you were the right guy for me, and we just had to keep the doors of communication open. If we could do that, we could get through anything.”