Ripple: A Novel

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Ripple: A Novel Page 12

by Cedergreen, L. D.


  “I love you, Adam. Please be safe.”

  “I love you too. Good-bye, Kendi.” He pulled out of my arms and turned to go, the airline assistant patiently waiting by the gate for his approach.

  “Bye, Adam,” I whispered as he walked away from me. The second he was out of sight, I collapsed into the nearest chair and sobbed into my hands, unable to keep up my composure any longer. When I was able to, I stood and walked to the window and watched until his plane was pulling away from the gate. I spread my palm against the warm glass, imagining him doing the same from his small window on the airplane. I felt an arm around my shoulders, and glanced to my side to find Josh there. I leaned my head against him, welcoming his comfort. I watched until Adam’s plane ascended into the sky, whispering good-bye, suddenly aware that the only part of him that I had to hold on to were the promises that we had made to each other.

  Stay

  The sun had begun to cast a bright stream of light into my mother’s kitchen as I absentmindedly traced my finger over the letters of my grandfather’s initials that were skillfully etched into the dark wood of the kitchen table. My grandfather had built the table with his own hands—a sentimental reminder of his love for woodworking in which he had mastered over the years. I replayed the funeral in my mind on a continuous loop, unable to shake the overwhelming nostalgia that had consumed me from the moment that I had seen Adam in the church.

  I stirred cream and sugar into my steaming cup of coffee, hoping that a good dose of caffeine would lift the heavy fog that my mind had seemed to be lost in. I hadn’t slept well, too many memories weighing down on my heart. Adam had stirred something in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time, and I was trying to sort through the jumble of feelings that surrounded me. The day before had proved to be an emotional day, mourning the loss of my grandfather and seeing Adam after all those years.

  I had spent the evening with my entire family, drinking and laughing as we reminisced about growing up with Gramps. My uncle had even brought out my grandfather’s old slides, and we had watched our lives pass by on the big white screen set up in the family room. Images from my childhood had flashed by: so many precious memories of my father that I had forgotten, as well as all the treasured moments that I had shared with Gramps.

  I had clutched my chest, fighting against the familiar ache, when images of Adam and me illuminated the screen. Pictures from my junior year prom when my grandfather had loaned us his LeMans-blue ’69 Corvette convertible for the night. I had smiled at the look on Adam’s face in the photo of my gramps handing him the keys; the picture had captured more than just memories. The pictures from my high school graduation had revealed just how inseparable Adam and I had been; his body was within inches of mine in nearly every photograph. I had stared at the girl that I had been, unable to ignore the look of youth and innocence, the naïveté that I had lost so shortly after. The trip down memory lane had been bittersweet.

  I heard the shuffle of my mother’s slippers on the hardwood floor, pulling me from my quiet thoughts as she walked into the kitchen.

  “You’re up early.” She yawned as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Are you okay? You were so quiet yesterday.”

  “Mom, why didn’t you tell me that Adam was going to be officiating Grandpa’s funeral?”

  “Honestly, Kendall, I didn’t think that it was a big deal.” She sat down next to me at the table, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. “You’ve barely mentioned him since high school. Every time that I tried to ask you about him after he left, you shut me down. I thought that he was just a blip from your past...until I saw your reaction to him yesterday.”

  She waited for me to explain, but I wasn’t ready to talk to her about how I felt about Adam, not until I sorted it out for myself. Instead I wanted to know more about him. “Why was he there yesterday? He said that he ‘fills in for Pastor Phillips.’ What does that mean?”

  “Well, Adam was the pastor at his church for a few years, but he unexpectedly resigned. Since then he’s been focusing on the family business. I heard he even purchased some of his own land recently. He’s still technically a minister, so he helps out with weddings and funerals at a few of the churches in town. Aunt Margaret actually requested him for your grandfather’s funeral, knowing that he would put a personal touch on the service, which he did so beautifully.”

  “So he came back here when he returned from Africa?” I asked as we both took a sip of coffee.

  “Yeah, pretty much. He never went back to school, although I heard that he’s been taking online courses from WSU to finish his business degree.”

  “Huh.” I paused, my mind processing this new information. I had never asked about him before. I had tried to push him completely out of my mind and my heart, scolding myself in moments of weakness when I allowed myself to wonder about him. “So why did he resign?”

  “I’m not sure. There was a lot of talk around town, but I never believe anything I hear.”

  “Talk about what?”

  “That he was involved with someone, you know...physically, which went against his beliefs, because he wasn’t married,” she said, waving off the information as if it was useless gossip.

  “Oh, who was he involved with?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

  “I don’t know, Kendall, probably no one. It was just talk.”

  I could tell that my sudden inquiry was grating on her nerves. “Sorry, I was just curious. I guess seeing him yesterday brought up a lot of memories.”

  “That’s understandable. You two were so close once upon a time. I was surprised that you didn’t stay in touch, but I know how hard it is when you’re young.”

  “I moved on, Mom,” I said flatly, feeling defensive for reasons unknown to my mother.

  “You certainly did.” She reached over and placed her hand on top of mine. “I’m so proud of everything that you’ve accomplished, Kendall, but honestly sometimes I wish that you would slow down and smell the roses.”

  “Mom, it’s nearly impossible to slow down as a resident.”

  “I know. I just miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” I replied as she stood up and kissed me on the head.

  “I’m gonna take a shower before your sister and brother wake up,” she said while making her way upstairs.

  As I finished my coffee, I decided that I needed to see Adam. My flight back to Los Angeles was the following afternoon, so I couldn’t put it off any longer. I took a hot shower, dried my long hair and carefully applied my makeup. I pulled a pair of tight dark jeans over my toned legs and chose an ivory sweater that hung low across my chest. I don’t know why I felt the need to impress him. I helped my mother prepare brunch for everyone, and we sat around the table, eating and talking like old times. I nonchalantly mentioned that I was going to visit an old friend, and Marie gave me a reassuring nod, knowing exactly who I was going to see. The afternoon had crept by slowly but I had stalled long enough.

  I didn’t need to look at his address, I knew where he lived. It was a small house on the edge of town that had been in his family for years. I drove my rental car slowly through town, listening to the snow crunching under the tires. Small fluffy snowflakes were falling against the windshield, melting away instantly, but sticking to the ground. I had forgotten how beautiful the snow could be, how peaceful it made everything feel. I parked in his driveway next to a black Chevy Tahoe and slowly made my way up the sidewalk.

  Before I could knock on the front door, a dog began to bark inside, and Adam threw open the door, startling me. A large yellow Labrador sprung out the door, jumping up and down, nearly knocking me to the ground.

  “Cooper, get down,” Adam said with an authoritative tone. The dog retreated back inside, leaving Adam and me staring at one another in an awkward silence.

  “Kendi, you’re here,” he said quietly, never breaking eye contact with me.

  “I just wanted to say good-bye. I’m
flying back to L.A. tomorrow.” I couldn’t tell him why I was really there, not yet anyway.

  “Oh. Well, come in. It’s freezing out there.” He stood back, holding the door and motioning for me to come inside. The house was warm and cozy, a fire burning dimly in the brick fireplace. I glanced around the room to see the framed pictures of his brothers with their families on the mantel, a beige couch facing the fireplace with an old dark leather chair nearby. A black vintage upright piano sat against the far wall, littered with sheet music. An eating area off the living room led into the kitchen. From where I stood, I could see dark marble countertops, distressed white cabinets and stainless steel appliances—the kitchen had definitely been renovated recently. Straight ahead was a wide hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

  “This is nice, Adam.”

  “Thanks. I’ve slowly been updating, one room at a time. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “No thanks, I’m fine.” I moved closer to the fireplace, reaching out to warm my hands in the heat radiating from the flames. I removed my coat and laid it over the back of the couch. His home felt comfortable—familiar—although I had only been in this house once that I could recall. But Adam’s warmth was etched into every detail of its interior.

  Adam was barefoot, wearing dark jeans that hung low on his hips, a wrinkled blue T-shirt clung to his chest, his hair the usual mess of dark curls that I remembered. He was still beautiful, and I had to look away before my eyes revealed the attraction that I still felt toward him.

  “You look amazing, Kendi,” he said, drinking me in from across the room.

  I could feel the blush set in across my cheeks as I quietly thanked him. He walked over and sat down on the couch near where I stood, sinking into the depth of its comfort. I sat down next to him, perched on the edge of the cushion, slightly turned toward him.

  “So yesterday was...awkward.” He smiled, melting away the tension in the room with his honesty and charm.

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to see you at my grandfather’s funeral of all places.”

  “I’ve envisioned running into you for years, and that wasn’t exactly the circumstances that I’d hoped for.”

  “What circumstances do you usually envision?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  “You know the kind where we run into each other in town, one that warrants big hugs, followed by dinner to catch up and reminisce about old times.” He laughed but I could tell that he had honestly thought about it before.

  “Do you think a reunion under any circumstance would be like that?” My tone was casual but his smile faded; his expression became serious in a matter of seconds. He reached over and pulled at a loose strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His gesture triggered so many memories that I was suddenly too aware of his close proximity. I could smell his all-too-familiar scent, feel every breath that he took. My heart rate had spiked, and I tried to focus on taking slow, even breaths.

  “No, I guess not. When something is taken from you unexpectedly, without so much as an explanation, and years pass without any kind of closure whatsoever, I guess that leads to an awkward situation under any circumstance.”

  I could sense his sad but resentful tone, and I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I stared into the fire, focusing on its warmth to avoid the sudden chill that passed between us.

  “I’m sorry, Kendi, that wasn’t fair.”

  I turned to look at him, incredulously. “Is that why you asked me to come here, Adam? So you could play the blame game? So you could get all this off your chest, this stuff that you’ve obviously been carrying around with you all these years?”

  He reached over and held my hand in his with a pleading look in his eyes. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t know why I asked you to come here. I needed to see you, alone.” He was quiet for a minute, obviously wanting to say more but not sure how to say it. “I need to know why?”

  “Does it matter? That was years ago, Adam. Let it go.”

  “The thing is, I can’t...just let it go. I wanted to call you so many times when I got back, but I think that I was afraid of what would happen, afraid of just how much you had moved on.”

  I pulled my hand away from him. “That’s just it. I moved on, and you should too.” I started to stand up, knowing that it was time for me to go. I shouldn’t have come. I wasn’t comfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. Too many emotions were already unveiled, and I hadn’t even told him the truth about why I was here.

  He pulled me back down beside him. “I don’t want you to think that I’ve been pining for you all these years, because I haven’t. I moved on too, but, seeing you yesterday, well, it brought up so many things that have been left unsaid for far too long.” He brought his hand to my face, softly stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Don’t you think we need to say them?”

  I looked at his deep blue eyes, so intense, so full of questions, questions that I couldn’t answer. I knew that it was cowardly, but I couldn’t tell him. His hand on my face sent chills rippling through me. The silence was building, but neither of us could turn away. He leaned his face closer to mine, his thumb brushing across my lips, and I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I bolted from my seat, grabbing my coat on the way as I ran out the front door. I could hear the dog barking, the sound muted over the loud pounding of my heart in my ears. I heard the door close, shutting out the dog’s deep bark completely and then footsteps on the porch.

  I stopped and turned back at the sound of his voice, powerful in the stillness that surrounded us.

  “For the record, I never stopped loving you. Seeing you here, having you here now, I can honestly say that I still love you. I wanted a life with you, Kendi. How could you walk away from me without even saying good-bye?”

  “Adam, you don’t know me. I’m not the same person that I was back then.” I shook my head, unable to believe that he could still love me.

  “People don’t change that much, Kendi.”

  “There was too much hurt between us. I knew that I wanted more from life, and I was worried that I would never be able to trust you again.” As soon as the words left my mouth, a sob escaped me. I was the one who could not be trusted. What Adam did was hurtful. But I had done things that were unforgivable. If he only knew. The guilt washed over me and I fought back with anger. “I couldn’t stay in this town any longer. I couldn’t breathe here. I still can’t breathe here. This is not the life that I wanted,” I yelled, raising my arms, gesturing toward the wheat field behind him and the farm equipment parked on the other side of the driveway. “Besides, you left me first, remember?” I knew these words hurt him deeply, but I said them anyway. I needed him to back off. I just couldn’t think about the lie that was wedged between us. I couldn’t let him see the guilt that was haunting my soul.

  “We could have talked about it. We could have made other plans, together.”

  “No, Adam. It was always about you and what you wanted. Don’t you see? I had dreams too. I needed to move on with my life.”

  “And now, have you...moved on? I can see it in your eyes, Kendi. You feel it too, this...pull.”

  “Please, don’t do this, Adam,” I pleaded. “Just let me go.” I could not endure the pain in his eyes any longer as he just stood there looking at me from the porch. Tears made their way down his cheeks, and he hung his head in defeat. I turned to walk away. The snow was falling slowly in large soft masses, clinging to my hair and clothes. The sky was cast in darkness from the thick white blanket that hung in the air. My rental car was covered in several inches of snow already in the short time that I had been there.

  “Stay, Kendi.” His words cut through the heavy silence. I stilled. I was afraid to turn around, knowing that I would go to him. I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to take the hurt away. But I couldn’t tell him the truth, and I knew that he needed that from me. He nee
ded closure, to shut the door on our past so that he could move on. But the truth was the only thing that could set him free. And I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.

  His voice stabbed at my heart as he continued. “I need you, just for tonight. Don’t go.”

  I stood, frozen, my back to him. Every fiber of my being wanted to go to him. I longed to feel his arms around me, to breathe in his scent, to...remember. I couldn’t fight this pull any longer. I turned and ran to him, tears streaming down my face. He wrapped me into his warm arms, holding me against him tightly. He rested his chin on the top of my head as I buried my face in his chest and sobbed. No longer able to fight against it any longer, I sobbed loud, uncontrollable sobs as he held me against him. We stood like that for what seemed like hours until there were no more tears to cry.

  I was cold, numb and wet from the falling snow. Adam leaned down and pulled my feet off the ground, cradling me in his arms. He carried me inside the house and sat me on the couch, tossing my coat aside and removing my wet boots. He kneeled at my feet, placing his hands on my thighs and looked at me in silence.

  His eyes penetrated the thick wall that I had built around myself all those years ago, the wall that was supposed to protect me from what I felt in that moment. He still had the ability to see right through me, right into my soul. Waves of emotions lapped at my heart. Love, guilt, regret, heartache, complete agony—I was overwhelmed, ready to burst under his gaze. He gripped my thighs tightly, and a chill swept through my body.

  “Let me get you some dry clothes,” he whispered. He left the room, and I sat there watching the flames dance in the fireplace, thankful for the moment of solitude. Adam’s dog collapsed at my feet, nuzzling my leg with his nose. I absentmindedly ran my hand down his back, petting him into a slumber. Adam returned with clothes in hand. “Here, you can change into these. The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

 

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