by Penny Ward
James winces and Caleb sniggers at me.
Aware of the huge grin now swallowing up my face and a fine sweat across my forehead, while all my friends tell me again to go for it.
When even strangers in the restaurant and the waiters join in, I begin to think I'm being stubborn if I don't at least try.
"Well, okay," I peer at Caleb. "Seems you won everyone's support, so I'll come on this date. I’ll take a chance, Caleb. But be warned, I won't go anywhere you would normally go. No gala balls or glamorous girls, alright?"
"I absolutely would not normally, nor have I ever been to where we're going," his wicked grin entices me, "I promise."
"No stopping off at Gucci shop on the way?”
“Nope.”
“No champagne in the back of a limo?”
“No.”
“Demi won't be there?"
"No, no, oh come on," he laughs.
Damn, he looks good.
He's smiling fully now, looks relaxed even.
And he's saying all the right things.
Please let this be the right move for both of us.
I look at his hand, place my palm against his, imagining two hearts joining, and gulp, "Well, looks like you're getting another chance."
I step around the table and he scoops me up into his arms, several feet off the floor to the sound of applause.
He leans in to kiss me, but I stop him and say, "Don't blow it this time, I mean it."
"Not a chance."
He kisses me right there in front of around thirty clicking smart phones flashing from every corner of the room.
After the blessed kiss, he offers me the biggest smile.
I don't remember ever seeing him wear such a beaming expression, and it's all for me.
Chapter 20
When he carries me outside the restaurant, with the sound of my friends clapping and jeering at our backs, he puts me down on my shuddering legs.
Placing one sweaty hand in his, I look around for his driver, or his car.
I never expected to find what I did.
He clicks the button on his key fob and the small, pale blue car in front of us, beep-beeps.
Caleb grins at me, wearing a proud look when I glimpse up at him, "So, what do you think?"
"That's yours? This? Where's your limo? Your Porsche? Your Aston Martin?"
"Thought you'd prefer something a little more… low key, so I got this inconspicuous run-around."
"It's a Fiat, Caleb. It might be inconspicuous if we lived in France or Italy, but here, not so much."
He mopes like a child who didn't get anything from the tooth fairy. "Oh, you don't like it?"
"I love it, are you crazy?" It would be my dream car. It's cute, classy, small, and economical to run. "But it's not you. I don't want you to become a watered-down version of yourself to please me."
"I'm far too arrogant to be a watered-down version of anything." He takes my face between his hands and stares deep into my eyes, "You are very much me, even if you had to leave for me to realize how much."
The blood rushes to my cheeks, leaving me giddy, "I am? You did?"
Betty taps the restaurant window from the inside and as we turn instinctively to see what caused the noise, we see face upon face of grinning observers and well-wishers.
"Yes and yes." He nods to our audience, "Should we make a run for it before they spill out on to the street and start cheering?"
"Sounds like a plan." I say, almost hypnotized by the magic of it all, and his full pout and shiny white, toothy smile. I so badly want to feel his tongue against mine.
He leans down and I think he's going to kiss me.
On my tiptoes, holding my breath, I wait for his kiss.
Instead, he says, "Go climb in." The key fob is pushed into my hand before he steps around the car. "You're driving."
A little disappointed but mostly confused, I ask, "Me?"
He drives fast sports cars or is driven by a professional in deluxe limousines.
I don't think he's even seen me drive since I got my license two years ago.
"Problem?" Caleb asks, opening the door for me from the inside and popping his head out.
"Um, no. Guess not." Key fob in hand, I climb in and start her up.
The radio comes on a little loud so I turn it down.
The station plays ‘I'm Not in Love' by 10cc and makes me smile.
The scent of new leather and plastic screams new car, though I'd never sat behind the wheel of one before.
It's compact but beautiful.
Caleb's legs are so long they're cramped, and he's had to push the seats back as far as they will go to fit in.
I readjust the driver's seat for my comfort and say, "Oh look, you should have bought yourself something a little bigger. When will you ever use this again? Now that you've made your point that you can do average, that is."
"Ah, don't be mad." He bites his lip and my body tenses. "I thought you could drive this one if I'm honest. I know you hate the limo and my sports cars are too flashy, and you don't have your own car yet, so…"
"Caleb, no." I'm not a whore for hire or one of his gold-diggers. "Don't try to buy me. I thought you knew me better than that?"
"Buy you? You think I'm buying you?" He appears genuinely upset, and I regret my insinuation immediately. "This was a freebie I got last week during a business deal. Make you feel better?"
"Well I…"
"This means nothing more to them than a small bonus, and nothing at all to me. In fact, I usually donate these bonuses to a charity or something, but I knew it would be perfect for you."
Oh, I never knew about bonuses and donations.
"I want you to be able to come and go from my place as you please, and without having to rely on my car, or me. Am I so awful now? Don't I know you?"
His stare is intense, his gait open and aimed at me, as difficult as it is for him to maneuver himself.
The love of my life is offering himself to me.
I kind of growl, "If we weren't parked up outside a restaurant on a busy street, I'd find some way to christen this car right now."
Like magic, his grin springs back in place, and my heart fills with a rapture I can't begin to explain.
It reminded me of a bird I saw once.
It broke away from his flock, which flapped their wings frantically as one. My bird flew off in the opposite direction, climbing higher and higher, fearless like a daredevil, and I admired him for going off alone.
But when he stopped flapping his wings and began to fall, I panicked for him, until he spread his wings and began to glide through clouds across the sky. It was as if the blue and white expanse somehow captured him with invisible strings and, full of envy, I longed to know how my bird felt up there, surrounded by peace, embraced by gravity.
When I look into Caleb's eyes, I think I understand exactly.
He is my peace, my gravity. "Okay." I swallow a deluge of emotion, "So, where are we going in my new car?"
"The fairground."
“The fairground? Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you even know where that is?”
“Nope, but I’ve had my personal assistant send me the directions.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s what you enjoy.”
“You actually listened to me?”
He nods, “More than you would ever believe.”
Chapter 21
Caleb rubs his hands together, the glow of an excited child on his face. "I'll direct you where to go. I have the directions here."
“I though you hated these places?"
“Someone wise once told me that you can’t judge a place if you’ve never been. I should have listened to that person’s advice a long time ago.”
I smile – he did actually listen to me. I wasn’t just his evening entertainment.
"No way, you actually want to do this, don't you?
"Oh yeah." Taking my hand in his, h
e says, "You make even the most tedious social gathering spectacular. Don't you get it yet?"
My jaw drops into a gape, "What's gotten into you? You want five star luxury, not muddy shoes and screaming kids on rollercoasters."
"You are such a stubborn woman," he sniggers. "All the luxury and wealth in the world can't compare to what we have. This fool never realized he had the most precious commodity on earth until she walked out his door."
Is he talking about me?
Is he saying…?
He kisses my forehead so softly it feels like the flap of a butterfly wing against my brow. "If you give me another chance, if you let me back in, I won't lose you again, Em."
"I…" is the only word to leave this stubborn woman's mouth.
The severity of what's happening between us sinks in slowly, and I tremble under its weight.
"Come here," he tells me, pushing my hair behind my ear and pulling my face close to his. "Now tell me, will you let me in?"
This whole experience and the vivid memory of us making love overwhelm me. My top lip wobbles with the strain of trying not to cry. I grab his hand and hold it next to my cheek and the tears flow, "I never completely let you go, though I tried my damnedest."
He wipes tears from my cheek with his thumb, and exhales, "Is it me who's trembling or you?"
"Both?"
He raises his free shuddering hand, "You're my one weakness, my Achilles heel. A lot of extremely wealthy men and women would love to bottle whatever it is you do to me. You know I'm yours, right?"
I hold his trembling hand in mine and grin, gliding like the bird—at least in my heart. "Who knew you were so romantic?"
"I never was before. Now I can't help myself." His voice crackles, "Maybe I'm getting sick or something?" Softly laughing, he gazes at me through red-rimmed eyes. "Time to stop crying, Em. It's time for fun at the fairground."
Sniffing, I lean my head into his palm and laugh along with him. "You turned me into a cry-baby, sorry. It's just, in all my dreams of us, I never dared to dream this…"
"Of course, you always knew, didn't you?" he asks.
"What?" I sit up in my seat, eager to hear what I knew.
"That I would eventually grow up and see what was staring me in the face all along."
"I didn't know anything." How could I? "I did hope you would one day see me as a woman, not just Little Em. That you'd see we fit perfectly, in spite of the very different lives we live."
He reaches across and pecks my damp cheek. "You will always be my Little Em, woman and girl. You're right, only recently did I allow myself to really look at you. It always seemed inappropriate while you lived here with your parents. You were so much younger than me. When they moved out and you took charge, then I thought… hello." He smirks, blushing, "I couldn't stop thinking about you naked, and of all the things I'd like to do to you."
Oh, the hours I spent touching myself to fantasies of him.
"We got that in common."
Taking sharp sniffs against my tears, spurred on by this more invigorating conversation, I prepare to focus and drive.
He shakes his head, "Man, the time I wasted. I've always been so juvenile. Comes from my upbringing I guess. Consequences were few and I never had to struggle or work too hard for anything." He peers outside the car into the street at an elderly woman pushing her life in a cart. "You, on the other hand…" He smiles back at me. "Thanks for waiting," he says seriously. "For giving me another chance. I won't let you down again."
I wipe stray tears from my cheeks, wishing I had a hanky. "I know you won't."
Thank heavens for waterproof mascara and men who can admit their weaknesses.
I start the car as he sits back and relaxes. "Buckle up. Time for our first date to begin if you think we got all the mushy stuff out of the way?"
"Nothing wrong with the mushy stuff," he buckles up.
I pretend to yawn, thinking how much I'd like to hear what he'd like to do to me naked. "Although, I feel an early night coming on."
In around half an hour we reach the fairground.
The drive is fabulous in my new Fiat.
Once there, we both have the time of our lives doing normal things like eating too much candy and riding the rollercoaster.
Caleb wins me a giant cuddly toy of my choice by shooting several rows of plastic ducks, laughing triumphantly throughout. I choose a cuddly owl because it is beyond cute and reminds me of him, with its big blue eyes.
He admits he can see the attraction to fairgrounds now.
While we laugh on my favorite the Big Wheel, I see him brake away from the flock of flapping birds and join me, gliding through the clouds.
Epilogue
Twelve months later . . .
"Hey Betty, can you help me with the burgers?" I call her away from our pals on my way to the bathroom.
I've been back and forth all day, though I've tried to hide it as best I can.
I hate people making a fuss when I'm unwell – and I don’t feel that bad, just ill in the stomach.
"They'll be charcoal if they stay on the barbeque much longer and… oh crap," I cover my mouth, "I'm sick as a dog."
After running up to me wearing a pout, she whispers, "That's the third time this week you've been sick—that you've told me about—and you've been running to the toilet all day. You need to see a doctor, Em."
"No," I snap, making my way to the toilet with Betty hot on my heels.
When I go to close the door on her, she stops me and adds in a stern voice, "No arguments, you need a doctor."
"A doctor?" asks Caleb, appearing from nowhere, carrying a tray of empty glasses to refill for our guests.
He's taken to social gatherings of the less luxurious kind over the past twelve months.
Gone are the days of Gala Balls, thank heavens.
"You need a doctor, Em?" He winces, "You are pale come to think of it." Placing the back of his hands against my forehead for a temperature, he adds, "Too much sun? Do you need to lie down?"
"All I need is to…" I turn, run for the toilet.
After I wipe my mouth on tissue paper and turn to them both, hovering in the doorway. "Sorry, but please stop fussing. I'm sure it's just—"
Caleb raises his hand interrupting me, "I don't care what you're sure it is. I'm calling my doctor." Grabbing his cell from his back pocket, he punches in the numbers before holding it to his ear, "He'll come straight out if he ever answers."
"You got a doctor on-call?" Betty says to Caleb, clearly impressed. "Different worlds."
When I turn to see their eyes scrutinizing me, I try to appear composed and to enjoy the dissipation of nausea, hoping that's the last time I'll vomit tonight.
"No, please don't ruin this barbeque, Caleb. Everyone's enjoying themselves out there, and so were we until this. I promise to go to the doctors on Monday."
"No, what if it's bad?" He ignores my request and waits for his doctor to pick up, pacing.
I notice he's rested the tray of empty glasses on the table behind him and I wonder if it's leaning to the left, or whether that's me, feeling spaced. "What if it can't wait till Monday?"
Taking a deep cleansing breath, I turn and flush the toilet, when something dawns on me.
When was my last period? It must be…I must be.
I whisper, blood rushing to my head, "Oh. My. Gosh."
"Hey, what's up?" Caleb asks, fear in his eyes. "Damn it, pick up, won't you?" He hangs up the phone and kneels in front of me.
"I'll go get some water," Betty tells us, her top lip drawn back, against the acidity of my vomit, I imagine. "Don't let her move from there in case she gets dizzy and falls over."
"Okay, I know. I'm not entirely useless." He holds the hair away from my sweaty face. "Seems I'm destined to spend my life surrounded by bossy women."
Trying to smile past his concern, I feel awful for what I'm about to tell him.
"Sorry…" my voice is breaking up. The truth is so huge and arrives with an alar
ming fear. What will he want me to do about this if it's true? "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Caleb."
He looks at me, eye to eye, "What is it? You're scaring me."
"I didn't plan this, I swear. I only just realized what's going on with me." I take his hand in mine, "Caleb, I think I'm being sick because I might be pregnant."
He is silent for a minute, while I watch how the news alters his facial features as it travels from his ears, spins around his mind, and finally blurts out from his mouth, "What, Em? Pregnant?"
He slumps to his butt, as though weighed down by the sheer magnitude of the news.
All I can do is nod and hold back tears, tears of exactly which type of emotion isn't clear—joy, anxiety, terror?
All of the above?
I mean, I'm twenty-two, finally studying to be a teacher at college and in love with the love of my life.
Am I too young, too busy for this?
Is Caleb ready for this?
Will a baby change us for the better or shatter the perfect relationship we've built?
"Yes, pregnant."
He wipes my tears away while his fall to the floor at my feet.
As the fear of losing him, of this ruining everything we have grabs my throat, his legendary grin swallows up his face and settles my anxieties, "Do you enjoy making me tremble? Look at my hands."
He holds one hand out to show me, and we watch it shudder for a moment before he kneels up and pulls me into his arms.
Softly he kisses my neck and works his way over my face, whispering, "I love you, I love you."
Deep gaze to deep gaze, we hold our breath for a silent time of thought before he asks, "Can't believe I'm saying this, but can we keep him? I mean, do you want to keep him?"
The expression on his face screams, 'I love you and the baby you're carrying.' If I weren't already sitting, this kind of expression would knock me off my feet.
I'll never forget it.
Propelled by an avalanche of emotion, the words shoot from my mouth in a sob, "You mean it?"
Resting one hand on my tummy, his eyes widen, "Of course I do. Let's do this, Em. We can do this."