by Rachel Rust
“I came to see how you’re doing—please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, I’m just surprised. How did you even know where to find me?”
From my back pocket, I produced the letter he had written to his mom. “I still have this. Don’t worry, I didn’t open it or read it.” I held it out. “I wanted you to have it back.”
His eyes stayed on mine as he stepped forward to take the letter. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”
No.
The simple answer wouldn’t exit my lips. My mind churned with chaotic explanations and I struggled to find a sensible message. Instead, I blurted out, “I missed you.”
My eyes went wide as the words hit the air. Shit. Too soon! I watched his face for signs of a freak out.
He smiled, wiping his grease-stained hands on an equally grease-stained rag.
“I didn’t know you could fix cars,” I said in a quick attempt to change the subject before I embarrassed myself even more.
He glanced back at the white Jeep. “It was my dad’s. It’s a total piece of shit, but I keep working on it. One day it’ll run again.”
“What about that one?” I asked, pointing to the new, black Jeep.
“That one’s mine.”
“It’s nice.”
The lighthearted, conversational air between us skidded into the ground and things went silent. Wind rattled one of the garage’s back windows. Victor panted at Eddie’s side.
In that instant, staring at his black Jeep and watching him pet his yellow dog, I realized how little I knew about the real Eddie. He could fix cars. He owned a Jeep. He hadn’t even told me that he had a dog. I was now surrounded by Eddie in every direction. His life, his property—the real him. The Eddie I had gotten to know throughout the Sergei fiasco was just a glimpse into the real guy. He had been so guarded, allowing me only the occasional peek into his life.
But now I was in the middle of it—whether he wanted me to be there or not.
“How’d you get here?” he asked.
“I borrowed a friend’s car.”
“From New York? Must be one hell of a friend.”
“Her name’s Claire,” I said. “She’s super nice and needed money for a trip to Seattle, so we made a deal. And I took your advice to do the whole college thing. I’ve been keeping myself busy, and have met a lot of people and made a lot of good friends.”
He studied my face, as though watching for signs that any of these awesome new friends were of the male variety. “That’s good to hear,” he said quietly as he scratched at Victor’s head. When he looked back up at me, he remained silent, urging me to do the talking. It was me after all who had gone all this way to talk, right?
My fingers twisted together. “Krissy told me you’re waiting on reinstatement at work.”
“I’m not waiting anymore, I’m being reinstated,” he said. “I’ll be back at work in New York next week.”
“Oh, my God, that’s great!” I resisted the urge to run up and hug him. He deserved a hug—I just didn’t know if he wanted one. Finally, his life was back on track. The pieces were back together. “I’m really glad things worked out. I would have just called to check in with you, but I needed to see you myself. I had to know that you’re okay.”
“I’m all right.” He studied the dirty rag in his hands. “How have you been handling things? I wanted to call so many times, but figured you might hate me, so I never did. I did talk to your father a few weeks ago, though. Said I was checking in for the FBI. He said you were back in counseling. That’s good.”
“You talked to my dad?” I asked, trying to keep my freaked-out eyes from bugging out of my head. “He never told me that.”
Eddie’s lip curled. “I might not have given him my real name. I don’t think he’s a big fan of mine.”
“He likes you fine,” I said, unsure of my own words. “He’s just not overly thrilled with the fact that every time I’m around you, I almost lose my life.”
Eddie’s face fell. “I’m not thrilled about that either.”
“Well, that’s over now,” I said. “No more running and hiding.”
He nodded.
I glanced back at the tan house. “Does your mom know the truth about your dad?”
Eddie shook his head. “Maybe one day I’ll tell her, but I’m still processing it myself.”
“Have you talked to anyone about it?” I asked. “A counselor? Doesn’t the FBI provide that kind of thing?”
“They do, and I’ve gone a couple of times.” He shrugged. “It’s not so bad I guess, getting stuff off my chest.”
I smiled in surprise. “I think it’s good you’re talking with someone. It’s helped me a lot. In fact, I’ve even decided to major in psychology. Figured with my own experiences, I can help other people someday.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows. “That’s really awesome. I can see you being a great therapist.”
“Thanks,” I said.
So far so good, but I knew the difficult words were yet to come. I hadn’t driven all the way to Ohio to talk about my major. I needed to be brave and lay it all out for him. If he liked what I had to say, then he liked it. If he told me to get back in my car and drive away, well, then at least I tried. “Here’s the thing, Eddie. I know you and I have very different lives, but—”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
My head snapped up. “You have?”
He smiled broadly. “Is that a surprise?”
“No. Maybe … I’m not sure.”
He stepped forward. “Look, Nat, I meant it when I said we both needed time to ourselves to figure things out and work on coping with everything that’s happened. But it was wrong of me to ditch you the way I did. Maybe the shock of the night or the overwhelming stress of everything made me snap. I don’t know where my head was that night, or for numerous nights after that.” He ran a dirty hand through his hair. “I was in a bad place for a while, dealing with my dad and all the bullshit red tape of getting back to work. I really did need some time to deal, and it sounds like you did, too.”
“I did,” I said with a nod. “Everything we’ve been through is pretty insane. And I know you think it’s best for me not to be with you, because of your job, or because I should be on a college campus having some brochure-perfect college experience. But that’s crap and you know it. Yes, we were forced together, and yes, we went through some serious shit. I’m trying very hard to dull down the shock from those experiences, but in between the traumatic moments are moments I don’t ever want to forget. Hanging out with you, seeing you smile, hearing you laugh … you kissing me, and waking up next to you.” I paused with a chuckle. “It’s weird because the most horrific experiences of my life are entangled with the most amazing moments of my life. Will it take a while to sort that all out? Yes. But it’s a hell of a lot harder to manage the bad stuff if I’m being rejected by the good stuff.”
His lip curled up. “I’m the good stuff?”
“Shut up,” I said, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “You know what I mean. I’m spilling my heart out to you, so the least you could do is not make fun of me.”
He flung the dirty rag over his shoulder.
“This would be a good time for you to say something,” I said, then added, “something mature.”
“You wanna go get something to eat?”
Confusion flashed through me at first, not understanding why he was thinking of food at a time like this. But then it sank in … he was asking me out.
“You mean like a real date?” I asked.
He grinned. “Better late than never. Our relationship’s been pretty fucked up from the beginning, you have to admit it. We’ve never even had a real first date—and fast food at Dinosaur Park does not count.”
“We could start over,” I said. “Like, ‘Hi, I’m Natalie, I think we had government class together.’ And then you tell me I’m insanely beautiful and ask me out.”
He laughed, stepping forward until he
was right in front of me. His hand twitched like he wanted to touch me, but then he looked at it, perhaps rethinking the greasy notion.
“You are insanely beautiful,” he said. “And I am totally in love with you.”
A woozy smile spread across my face at the sound of the L word.
“What did you say?” I asked with bat of my eyes. “I didn’t quite hear you. Better say it again.”
He smiled widely, his eyes full of charm. “I love you, Nata—”
I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me. His lips hit mine, hungry and passionate, as his once-timid hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight up against him. Time stood still as I melted into him, and him to me.
When we pulled apart, he whispered, “I think I ruined your shirt.”
“I don’t give a damn.” I pressed my lips to his again. Greasy clothes could be replaced. He couldn’t.
A paw scratched at our legs.
“Dammit, Victor,” Eddie mumbled.
I stepped back from him, laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your dog’s name is Victor. You named yourself after your dog? Who do you think you are, Indiana Jones?”
Eddie laughed. “Victor Greer was a name The Bureau picked, swear to God. I did not name myself after my dog.”
“Sure, I’ll believe that.” I glanced at his shirt and dirty hands. “Do you need to go change or something before we go eat?”
“Nah,” he said, walking to a big sink near the corner of the garage. He covered his hands in dish soap and scrubbed them under the faucet. “Trust me, where I’m taking you tonight, a greasy shirt is the norm.”
My eyes narrowed. “Where are you taking me?”
“Bub’s Patio,” he said with a wink, drying his hands. “Best burgers and barbeque in the state—or at least that’s what they claim.”
“Bub’s? Is that the place with the neon pig sign?”
He laughed. “That’s the one. Someday I’ll take you to a place with cloth napkins and a fancy-sounding name, but when you’re in Burgton, you gotta eat at Bub’s.”
I threw my hands up in surrender. “All right, I believe you. You’re the local.”
He disappeared behind his black Jeep, and reappeared pushing two wheels.
“What’s that?” I asked, taking a step back.
He smiled down at the motorcycle. “Our transportation. What were you expecting? A carriage ride, Cinderella?”
I pointed to the black Jeep. “How about we take that instead?”
He ignored my suggestion and sat down on the bike. “Hop on.”
“It’s kind of cold for a bike ride.”
He patted the seat behind him.
I approached slowly, ignoring the amusement on his face. With my hands on his shoulders, I hoisted myself up and onto the back of the motorcycle. It was equal parts wrong and exciting. But as he started the throaty engine and I wrapped my arms tight around him, it was everything I wanted in that exact moment—Eddie and freedom.
“You know how to drive one of these things, right?” I asked.
He just laughed. And then we were on our way—down the gravel road, onto the smooth highway. As the cool wind sailed through my hair, I clung tight to him, smiling like an idiot, and not wanting the ride to ever end.
Epilogue
Seven months later…
The dress hugged every inch of my body as my mom zipped it up. She fussed with my hair and then handed me my bouquet of pink and orange roses.
“You look so beautiful, Natalie,” she said.
“Thanks Mom, so do you.”
We both turned to face the mirror. She had opted for a tea-length, off-white dress. “I’m not going with pure white,” she had said while dress shopping. “Who are we trying to kid here?”
My bridesmaid’s dress was light pink. Not my favorite color, but it was also not my wedding, so I graciously went with it. The sleeveless design was perfect for the warm June evening. I had never been a bridesmaid before, and never did I imagine that my first time would be at my own parents’ wedding.
I wasn’t sure when they had decided to get remarried, because every time they talked about it, they giggled like school kids. They giggled a lot lately. Making up for lost time, I supposed.
The ceremony was held in our backyard, as they didn’t want to “make a fuss” over it and spend a lot of money. Josh and I were the only attendants, and the guests totaled forty in all. Family and a few close friends. Small and quaint. A celebration of a love that never should have been torn apart.
I didn’t cry, though I had expected to. My mom was back. In our house, filling it with laughter and memories, not to mention better decorating. My dad was finally happy and that alone filled my heart.
I stood near the back patio door as they cut their small, pink cake. Fingers slipped between mine and I gave them a squeeze. Eddie kissed the top of my head and I leaned against him.
The newlyweds fed each other cake, then danced to an old Faith Hill song. I didn’t know the name of it, but it was the same song they had danced to at their first wedding. The sun dipped low in the sky, allowing the strings of white lighting to illuminate the backyard with a soft, romantic glow.
With the next change of song, a few other people joined my parents on the dance floor, including Josh and his new girlfriend, Amelia. He had met her through his born-again Christian roommate at Central Dakota University. Within two weeks of dating, she had him attending Bible studies. Josh, who hadn’t seen the inside of a church since we were baptized as infants, was now doing devotionals every morning. I wasn’t sure if his newfound religion would turn out to be a good thing or a bad thing, but anything that got him out of bed before noon seemed okay to me.
Tomorrow was our twentieth birthday. The big two-oh. A whole new decade of life, just waiting to be explored. I was ready for the teens to be behind me. It had been more than a year since Eddie and I had been paired up for that assignment. And in that one year I had aged ten.
New York had proven a good fit. I liked the serenity of the campus, and the busyness of the city. I managed to snag a job answering phones at the student counseling center on campus during the summer, which meant I was now basically living there fulltime—year round. Which both pleased and saddened my parents.
Claire had gone back to Arkansas for the summer, but we kept in contact and had put in a request to room together in the fall.
For this summer, on paper, I was staying on campus, alone in a dorm room. In reality, I was shacking up with Eddie. His one-bedroom apartment was a shoebox, with barely a kitchen, but we managed. After months of running for our lives, arguing about who left the wet towel on the floor was a vast improvement.
The five hundred dollar ATM withdrawal had taken about five hundred apologies to my dad. Though he didn’t go entirely apeshit when he had found out about it. I gave my mom credit for that—he had been in a pretty good mood since her return. Also, he had a lot on his mind just trying to absorb the whole story about Sergei. I think it was difficult for him to be mad at me for the misuse of college funds when he was just thankful I was still alive.
I had decided to be honest about how I had spent the money. He was appreciative of the truth, but my expensive road trip to Ohio did not help break the ice between him and Eddie. Things were improving on that front, however. They talked now, and not just in the You-break-her-heart-I-break-you-and-I’m-an-orthopedic-doctor-so-I-know-all-the-good-bones kind of way. They talked about college football, and New York, and as long as my dad didn’t find out about how familiar I was with Eddie’s tiny apartment, I had a feeling things would remain okay between them.
The dance floor song switched again, to The Beatles, In My Life. My mother loved The Beatles. Paul McCartney in particular. Though tonight, her gaze never left my father’s face, just like he never left her side.
Eddie tightened his grasp on my hand and led me to the dance floor.
My eyes widened. “You can dance?”
He turned to me and laughed. “You think my only talents are cleaning guns and stealing cars?”
Our feet hit the dance floor and he pulled me close. We moved with the music—cheek-to-cheek at times, other times laughing as he twirled me around. There under the small, twinkling lights, the entire world was ours.
Each day brought with it new hope, new possibilities. The unknown of the future was the one thing we couldn’t escape, but surrounded by my family and Eddie’s arms, there was comfort in knowing I’d never have to face it alone.
The End
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