Never Let Go

by Anne Carol

  Goosebumps appeared when I finally saw him. “Angel …” He climbed the steps two at a time to reach me, and when he did, he took me in his arms and held me close.

  “David.” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tightly.

  Just as I was enjoying his distinct scent, he drew back and gazed into my eyes. “My beautiful Beth.” I gave him a shy smile, recalling how close we’d been.

  He loosened me up by planting kisses all over my face, making me giggle.

  “Come on, let’s get inside before we get into more trouble,” he suggested.

  “Good idea.”

  We spent a lot of time together over the next several days. But since our parents were still cautious about letting us go anywhere alone, the only solitude we had was when we walked the three blocks between our houses. We took full advantage of that walk by pausing to kiss as much as possible.

  “I’ll never get enough affection from you,” he told me more than once, warming my heart every time.

  The day before we left, David came over to hang out while I organized my stuff for packing. He showed up with a bag of treasures, which I immediately tried to grab from him.

  “Not yet, hold your patience,” he said, drawing back.

  “Alright.” I grinned. “I have something for you, too.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  I took his arm and pulled him upstairs to my room, making sure to leave the door open, per my mom’s request. I walked over to the side table and picked up two wrapped packages.

  “Here.” I held them out to David. “I hope you like them.”

  He smiled at me. “I like anything that’s from you.”

  He tore open the wrapping paper to reveal a framed photo of us standing in front of the pub where we first met. We’d gone there for dinner a few times and on one occasion asked a fellow patron to take our picture.

  “This is perfect.” He ran his finger over the frame. “I love it, Beth. Thank you.”

  “I thought you’d like it. Made one for myself, too.” I pointed to the other package. “Next.”

  The other gift was a framed picture as well, this one being a candid shot of the moment I kissed David after he played guitar for his friends’ band. Jenny snapped the picture, unbeknownst to me at the time. Her timing had been perfect—the image showed our lips meeting with my arms around his neck.

  “Bloody hell, how did you get this?” David stared, transfixed, at the photograph.

  “Jenny took the picture. Which is perfect because that’s when I knew I was in love with you.”

  “Yeah? I knew it the day I carried you home from the record shop.”

  My jaw dropped. “No way.”

  “Honestly. Do you not recall how my heart was pounding?”

  I laughed. “I thought that was mine.”

  “I think it was both of ours.” He put the gifts down and patted his lap. “Come here, sweet girl.”

  I sat on his lap and put my arms around his shoulders.

  “Are you alright with what we did the other day?” he asked, catching me off guard.

  “Of course, why do you ask?” I said quietly, turning rosy.

  “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t over do it.” He held me close and whispered, “I want to respect you.”

  “And you did. You held back when it was necessary, and then we shared a moment I’ll never forget.”

  “I want to give you every part of myself, Beth, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You understand?”

  “Yes, and I love that about you.”

  He held me close for several moments, until he started to shift. “Alright, it’s my turn.”

  I slid off his lap and curiously watched him go to his bag.

  The first item he took out was his very faded and worn denim jacket, one I’d often end up wearing when we were out and I was, as usual, ill prepared for the weather.

  “Your jacket?” I said with an air of surprise. “I can’t take that.”

  “I have others. You will take it,” he urged, draping it over my arm. “Just think of it as a loan. Hopefully we’ll be sharing everything someday.”

  I hugged the jacket to my body. “Thanks, I don’t know if I’ll ever wash it. I want your scent with me for as long as possible.”

  “Me, too.” When he said that, I noticed a sadness in his eyes which broke my heart.

  Realizing I had nothing personal to give him, I scrambled to think of something. I put the jacket down, reached over, and grabbed my childhood teddy bear off the pillow. Pausing, I kissed the faded brown bear and handed it to David.

  “What’s this?” He held up the bear. “Not a gift from your ex-boyfriend?” he asked.

  “No!” I playfully punched his shoulder. “My grandma gave it to me when I was six.”

  “Ah, the grandmother who married an Englishman?”

  “Yes, Grandma Claire.”

  “I like her. Does she know about me yet?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll tell her when we get back. I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  He swept me into an embrace, still clutching my bear. “I think you already know, crazy girl.”

  I giggled. “I sleep with that bear every night, but I’ll let you keep it for now.”

  “I won’t question why you’re still sleeping with a teddy bear at your age, but I’ll take good care of it,” he said, still holding me. “Next year, I’ll be your personal teddy bear.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Next he got out two record albums: one by The Sex Pistols and the other by Joy Division, two of David’s favorite bands.

  Holding up the albums, I said, “Is this your way of getting me to appreciate your music?”

  He smirked. “Of course. Music is my life, and you’d better get used to my music.”

  “Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes. “I should’ve gotten you a disco album.”

  “Heavens, no.”

  “Why not? I love music, too. Just a different kind.”

  “That’s not music, Beth,” he said dryly.

  “Oh geez. So difficult …” I waved my hand at him.

  “That reminds me, I have one more gift for you at my house. I’ll give it to you later.”

  Trying to read his secretive expression, I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay.”

  Though he was acting nonchalant, I had a feeling this other gift was kind of a big deal.

  I ended up having dinner at the Somers’ that evening so they could see me one last time. Mrs. Somers let me help prepare the bangers and mash, another favorite English meal consisting of English sausages and mashed potatoes. I got teary-eyed when she called me a “sweet lass” and told me how much she’d miss me. She also shared that David was on edge about me leaving, and to not be surprised if I was flooded with letters from him.

  “That goes both ways, Mrs. Somers. I imagine I’ll write nearly every day.” She smiled at that. I didn’t want her to worry about her son. David was my best friend, and even when I was gone, I planned to communicate with him as often as possible.

  Later on after dinner, Mr. Somers insisted I have my own shot glass of whiskey, claiming I needed it for all the traveling coming up. Of course, even with a full dinner, the alcohol loosened me up. Consequently, I indulged David’s father in one last dance, to a Ray Charles song, while David sat on the couch impatiently tapping his foot.

  At long last, I was released to David’s custody, and we headed upstairs to his room.

  “Bloody hell, I thought I’d never get you to myself,” he muttered as we walked inside. He left the door open (rules), but that didn’t keep him from attacking me as soon as we were alone. He cornered me against a wall and kissed me deeply, lacing his fingers through my hair. I felt his arousal on my leg and instinctively let out a soft moan.

  “You like that?” he whispered.

  “Yes. But your parents—” He distracted me by slipping his tongue in my mouth, making me lose touch with reality.

  �
�My parents won’t bother us,” he breathed in between kisses. “I want this one more time, don’t you?”

  “If we can get away with it.”

  He smiled down at me and quietly shut the door almost all the way. Then he put my arms around his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his hips. Holding me up, he rocked against me, kissing my neck until we both felt our release. He gently set me down as he breathed heavily into my hair, coming down from his high. I fell against him, completely sated.

  “Was that my other gift?” I said, kissing his throat and feeling even closer to him.

  He laughed, “No, actually, although it was rather nice.”

  “Extremely nice.”

  He let me out of his embrace and gave me an impish grin. “I’ll be back straightaway.”

  “Sure.” I giggled, completely understanding when he grabbed new boxers and jeans.

  When he returned, I made my own escape into the bathroom, and while there, I snooped in the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of aftershave. Not able to resist, I twisted the cap off and took a sniff. Ah. It smelled like him.

  I brought the bottle with me as I wandered back into his room. I was just about to ask him if I could take it home with me, when I looked up and saw him standing there, holding his acoustic guitar.

  “What’s this?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  “I finished your song, angel.”

  “My song?” I asked. “Are you talking about the sheet of lyrics I found the first time I was here?”

  “Yes. I called it ‘Angel’ after you, of course.”

  He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then started strumming the first notes. As he went into the first verse, I sat still and listened to every word he sang. Overwhelmed by his expression of love for me, I had to brush a few tears away.

  He stopped mid-verse. “Please don’t cry. You make me want to stop and hold you.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ll try to keep it together.”

  He started over, but it took a few more tries before I was able to sit through the entire song without getting emotional. It was beyond my expectations; to say it moved me was an understatement. The words were beautiful and the sound reminded me of the tune “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles, the first song he played for me on his guitar. The connection didn’t pass unnoticed, and I was both honored by his gift to me and impressed by his talent for songwriting.

  When he finished, I clapped with enthusiasm as he set his guitar down. As soon as his hands were free, I rushed over to him and gave him a giant hug and kiss.

  “That was perfect!”

  “Thank you. I’ve been working hard on it the last four days.”

  “Well, it paid off,” I said, tousling his hair. “You really are gifted, you know that? You’re going to make it, I just know it.”

  “Ah, Beth, you give me such confidence. I’ll miss your encouraging words.”

  “I’ll never stop encouraging you, David. Don’t ever forget that I’m your biggest fan.”

  His smile could’ve lit up Times Square. “You are that. I hope that never changes.”

  “It won’t. I promise.”

  Soon it was time for me to say goodbye to the Somers’ because I needed to get to bed by a decent time. My parents and I had an early flight the next morning, and even though I knew I wouldn’t sleep well, I had to try for at least a few hours of rest.

  It was hard leaving David’s house that evening—the Somers’ had become like family to me—but even more so, I dreaded the moment that I’d have to tell David goodbye.

  “Promise you’ll be strong for me,” David pleaded. We were sitting at the top of the steps back at Uncle Ned’s house with my head resting against his shoulder.

  “I’ll try,” I said, feeling a heaviness in my chest. “You, too.”

  “I’d feel better if I knew Rick wasn’t going to hassle you.”

  The anguish in his voice disturbed me, and the way he clung to me told me how nervous he was about my situation at home.

  “He will, but eventually he’ll get the point that there’s no chance for us. And I imagine he’ll get bored and move on to someone who’ll give him what he wants.”

  “I don’t trust that sod. Just please stay far away from him.”

  “You know I will.”

  “I’ll be glad when you return home to me, where you belong,” he said, kissing my forehead.

  Home. At the beginning of summer, I thought I couldn’t wait to get back home, home to Garden Valley, that is. Now, because of the man I’d met and fallen in love with, I also considered London my home, my future home. It was too much for my tired brain to process. My life had read like a romance novel this summer. Even with the sharp pain of Rick’s betrayal, it ended up being the greatest story of my life. And now it was time to close this chapter.

  Starting with saying goodbye to my best friend.

  “You should get some sleep, Beth. I hate goodbyes, anyway. The longer I sit here with you, the harder it’ll be to leave.”

  “I know. I’m sure my mom will be out here any second to nag me.” I glanced at the front door.

  He put his finger to my chin and urged me closer. I expected him to kiss me, but instead he let his fingers graze over my forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin, looking deep into my eyes as he touched me.

  “I want to memorize this face, and the brilliant color of your eyes.” His hands reached into my hair, fanning out my long strands. “And the silky texture of your hair.”

  I mimicked his actions as my fingers stroked his face and eventually made their way into his thick, dark hair.

  “I never want to let go of you,” I choked out. “This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

  He put his forehead to mine. “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl …”

  “I love you, David.”

  “I love you, too,” he sniffed.

  I touched his cheek, wiping a tear away. “You’re crying?”

  “Oh, Beth. This is hard for me, too.” He took a breath. “I don’t want you to leave. You belong with me. I wish somebody could tell me how it makes sense to find your perfect mate, only to be separated by thousands of miles.”

  “I know what you mean. I don’t understand it.”

  “But don’t think for one bloody moment that I regret falling in love with you.”

  “Me neither. I thank God I met you.”

  “Kiss me, angel.”

  And I did just that. I kissed him longer and harder than I ever had before, with my hands in his hair and his palms pressed firmly on my upper back, pulling me closer to him.

  I stopped when I heard the door open and somebody gasping. When I looked up, I saw my mom’s figure walking away.

  “It’s time for you to go in,” David said. “I don’t want your mother cross with me.”

  We both stood up and gazed at each other one last time before he brought me in for a tight embrace. I could’ve stayed in his arms all night, but being mindful of the time, he let go of me all too soon, giving me a one final kiss. “Love you forever.”

  “Forever.”

  We smiled at one another as he started down the steps, going backwards so he could keep his eyes trained on me. Finally, when I stepped inside the house, he waved and blew a kiss. Watching him walk away broke my heart, and a lump formed in my throat which I feared would remain until next summer.

  Thursday morning, four o’clock finally arrived after a sleepless night, and I forced myself out of bed. Seeing Jenny’s comatose figure lying across the way pulled at my already raw emotions. The two of us had become close friends over the summer, and I was going to miss her dearly. We promised to keep in touch, and she said she’d check in with David once in a while, maybe even take in some of his band’s gigs.

  “Simon likes their music anyway,” she’d said, making me green with envy.

  With the luggage now loaded in the car, the four of us blurry-eyed people piled ourselves into the small car and proceeded to head throu
gh the early morning fog as Uncle Ned drove us to the airport. When we rounded the corner, I looked back and could swear I saw a dark-haired silhouette standing in the shadows watching us.

  “You’re quiet, Beth. Too quiet.” My mom’s smooth voice broke through the clinking sound of the beverage cart traveling by.

  “I have nothing to say,” I said in a bleak tone, facing the window and watching the sunrise from thirty-five-thousand feet. I was trying my best to not cry, because I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  She touched my arm gently. “It’ll get easier, honey. Once you get busy with school and friends, the emptiness won’t seem so overwhelming.”

  “I can’t imagine it getting easier until I can see David again.”

  “You need to talk to Grandma. She went through the same thing.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  The flight attendant was now making her way toward our row.

  “What do you want, dear?” My mom asked.

  “A glass of wine will do.”

  “Beth … you know you’re not old enough,” Mom warned.

  “I know,” I sighed. “I just thought it’d help me sleep.”

  Mom turned down the beverage service and put her arm around my shoulder. “Here, just try to relax. Lean against me.”

  I hesitated a second, but then, like a little girl, rested my head against my mom’s shoulder and soon fell into a deep sleep.

  “Almost home, dear,” said Mom. I opened my eyes and peered out the car window. The houses were getting familiar, as was the scorching August heat seeping through the window.

  After the long flight and getting through customs, I was relieved to meet up with Uncle Tom, my mom’s brother, who was giving us a lift home from the airport. The adults had all been chatting, catching up on news, when I’d slumped against the door and crashed.

  Now my adrenaline was on the rise, the closer we got to our block.

  And there it was—the blue-tinted ranch-style house with white trim that I’d called home for seventeen years. I was never so happy to see that house. Especially when I saw an excited young woman waiting out front.