Beside Your Heart

by Mary Whitney

  “I guess I’m lucky.” I giggled.

  “Yes, you are!” said Rachel.

  Lisa then asked the question everybody, including me, wanted to know the answer to. “So, when he gets back in January, will you have sex with him?”

  “You know. I haven’t told y’all about how great he’s been to me…how kind he’s been about…about Lauren and my family and stuff…or how much fun we have together.”

  “Wait. Are you in love with him?” asked Lisa, her eyes wide.

  “Like I was saying,” I said. “I really like him, but I’m pretty sure I’m not in love—at least not yet. I think that’s got to be more than a couple weeks of good times.”

  “Smart girl,” said Lisa.

  “And sex?” asked Rachel.

  “I’m not having sex with him until—”

  Rachel interrupted, “Until you’re in love with him?” She was so eager for an answer she leaned in as far as she could in her chair.

  “Until I have my shit together and I’m in love with him. I mean he’s wonderful and gorgeous and so much more, and the way he makes me feel is just special, but…I’m still messed up. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to do something like that when I’m still like I am, but believe me I’ve thought about doing it with him a lot.”

  As if she was letting out a great secret, Rachel announced, “Well, I’ll tell you what I know.”

  My eyes widened. I’d forgotten that Rachel might have some information from Tom about Adam’s feelings for me. My heart skipped a beat.

  “I’ve been holding back on this even though it’s not much. Tom says he’s never seen Adam happier.” Rachel got a big smile on her face.

  My heart swelled. I may not beat Kate, but he cared for me more than Meredith. I got some satisfaction from that.

  Then Rachel hit me with the shocker. “But the bigger thing is that Tom said he heard Sylvia tease Adam about you. She said something like, ‘Just because she’s the love of your life doesn’t mean she can’t be my friend, too.’ Anyway, Tom thinks that he’s…well, that he’s in love with you but doesn’t know it yet or doesn’t want to say it yet or something like that. You know how guys are.”

  Adam in love with me? Like in love in love with me? I thought about the journal he made me and him calling me sweetheart. Even though it was such an innocent thing to say, it had felt like he’d meant more when he’d said it. My heart was bursting with happiness, but all I could say was, “Wow.”

  “Does this change how you feel?” Lisa asked.

  I was still shocked—too shocked to cogently answer that very good question. “Well, it makes me happy—like, kind of giddy, but I don’t think it automatically changes how I feel. I’ll get back to you.”

  For the rest of the night and into the morning, I stayed absolutely elated by what Rachel had told me. I’d memorized her words and parsed through them repeatedly, even when eating breakfast with Mom. Unfortunately, she took my silence as an opportunity for a big talk.

  After taking a couple sips of coffee, she cleared her throat. “Nicki, I think it’s time we had a talk.”

  “Yeah?” The tone of her voice put me on red alert, but there was no way I was looking at her.

  “It’s about Adam. I see how you are with him…how he is with you…how much time you two spend together. You do spend a lot of time together—all day at school, afternoons, weekends. It wouldn’t bother me if I hadn’t talked with his mother the other day. I didn’t know about his family leaving in June. That’s going to be very hard for both of you, but especially for you.”

  Her voice became taut. “This has been a hard time for you. I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve been through enough.”

  All ecstatic thoughts about Adam escaped me as my heart deflated into a harsh reality. “I don’t want to get hurt either.”

  “Nicki, please. Just listen to me. I speak from experience. He’s very nice, but there will be many more boys in your life. Don’t get too wrapped up in him.”

  If the last several months had taught me anything, it was that pain could be pushed aside for a minute if you made a joke. You could put yourself above it all—maybe find some power when you’re otherwise powerless. I bit my tongue, though, because the joke I wanted to make wouldn’t have sat well with my audience. I wanted to say to Mom, Glad to see you’ve decided to be my mom again.

  Instead, I sat there as her sound parental advice brutally pummeled my heart and then logically registered in my brain. Mom had dutifully cautioned me not to fall for the guy, but not wanting to be harsh, she’d also added the proverbial there-are-other-fish-in-the-sea consolation. She probably expected to repeat it again when Adam left.

  I considered what she’d said for a moment and realized that it was most likely universally held, conventional wisdom. A picture popped in my mind of Adam with his family at their dinner table in England. The image was fuzzy at first because he’d never told me what his house looked like. Based on the few British films I’d seen, I could only envision a giant table in a palatial dining room or a rickety table in a dark, thatched cottage with rats underfoot. Nowadays, there had to be something in between, but I couldn’t think of it, so I went with the palace.

  Then the picture took shape of Adam in his fancy house, with his fancy parents telling him he shouldn’t get too caught up in that Nicki Johnson. Mrs. Kincaid liked me for some unknown reason, but in the end, she had to think I was just another girl with a crush on her perfect boy. I was even less desirable, though, being an American with an awful Texas accent.

  They would tell him that, yes, they were going back to the United States in a few weeks and he could see me again. But they would be leaving soon enough, and realistically, he would be back with Kate by the summer. They might even suggest he let me down sooner rather than later. I realized the scene was so predictable that it could have been playing out simultaneously to my own at that very moment. And it was so painful that just thinking about it made my eyes cross.

  I tried to will all thoughts about my futureless relationship with Adam back into their locked compartments in the back of my mind and pit of my stomach, but I couldn’t deny reason and reality. I was just about to throw my hands over my face to hide my welling tears when Mom declared, “But because I was once seventeen, I know you’re not going to listen to me.”

  But I actually was listening to her for once. Confused by everything, I scratched my head. “Huh?”

  Reaching into her pocket, she took out a business card and put it in front of me. “I just wanted to let you know that if you need birth control, please call my OB/GYN’s office and set up an appointment. It’s a large practice, and you don’t have to see my doctor. They have my insurance, which you’re covered on. I think it would be wise to do it over the break.”

  I peered down at the business card, which seemed to demand action from me. She wants me on the pill ASAP. I was beyond confused then. First, she’d put me through an emotional wringer by telling me to cool it with my boyfriend, and then she’d started a sex talk that amounted to passing me a business card. I wasn’t expecting it at all, but I was happy to have it end like this.

  “Oh…okay. Thanks, Mom.” It sounded curt, but what was I supposed to say—That’s really thoughtful?

  She wasn’t done yet. She pressed, “If you’re going to be sexually active, you should be on the pill. The last thing I want for you is to end up pregnant right now. You should also use condoms because of AIDS and other diseases.”

  So being in high school and pregnant was worse than AIDS. Only a mother who’d married too young could think that. Not wanting a lecture, I said, “Got it, Mom. Are we done?”

  “Sure. So will you do it?”

  Ha! So that’s what she was getting at. She must have known I’d been a virgin before I’d started seeing Adam. Now, she wanted to know if I’d already had sex with him or if I was planning on it. What was my answer to that?

  Too much silence on my part made her antsy. She as
ked again, “Will you?”

  Rachel and Lisa had asked me the same thing the night before. That conversation may have been an interrogation, but this felt like I was on the stand—like I needed to make a decision. Will I or won’t I? Yes or no? I thought of my overwhelming urges to touch Adam and to have him touch me. Then I thought of him calling me sweetheart. Jeez. Who am I kidding? It’s just a matter of time.

  “Yeah. It’s probably a good idea.” In a pathetic attempt to seem like less of a horny teenager, I said under my breath, “Just in case.”

  You couldn’t fool Mom on matters of the heart, though. She saw right through it and smirked. “‘Just in case.’” Parenthood took her over once again, though, and she ended the talk more motherly. “Good. I won’t be worrying, then.”

  Chapter 20

  IF ADAM HAD LEFT FOR TWO WEEKS at any other time of the year, I would’ve continued to bumble around my little self-centered universe, wondering what he was doing and who he was doing it with. But those darker thoughts were kept at bay because it was my first Christmas without Lauren. I was glad that we were going to my grandparents in Baton Rouge, because being at home sucked. I hadn’t felt that lonely since the summer, and the only antidote was to look through the book Adam had made for me. It made me smile every time.

  On the drive to Baton Rouge, I promised myself that I would bring up Lauren’s name a few times while I was there. Ignoring her might be my grandmother’s way of dealing with her death, but it wasn’t going to be mine. I wouldn’t say anything inappropriate, but I simply wanted the family to acknowledge her, especially at Christmas.

  I dropped her name once or twice, and no one said anything, so I decided to make a big deal of it at Christmas dinner. With the full holiday spread before us on the table, Grandpa Stuart always started off with a toast. Lauren and I had always liked it because we got a tiny bit of wine so we could join in. Even during this totally crappy year, Grandpa found things to toast—his most recent golf scores and Grandma’s lump-free gravy.

  After everyone took a drink, I piped up, “And to Lauren because we miss her.”

  There was a moment of silence before Grandpa broke it with “Hear, hear.” He smiled at me, and I looked at Grandma, who appeared sad as she looked down.

  I turned to Mom, and she declared, “Yes, to my littlest girl.” She looked at me with a small smile and tearful eyes, but I wasn’t crying. She had made me grin.

  “My littlest girl” was Mom’s nickname for Lauren. I was so proud of her. I’d never expected to ever hear her say that again.

  We flew back home the day after Christmas, and the following day I went to Dad’s. I wanted to be back in Bellaire for New Year’s Eve—not that I was going to a big bash, but I wanted to spend it with my friends instead of with Dad and Michelle. Plus, I had the OB/GYN appointment that week.

  While I was at Dad’s, he asked me to join him on an expedition to the liquor store for his New Year’s Eve champagne. Maybe he thought I was bored.

  But as he was pulling out of the driveway, he announced, “Your mom says you have a boyfriend.”

  This was bad. As far as I knew, Mom and Dad only really talked when there was something to discuss about Lauren and me. Everything was civil between them, but Mom always said, “We only talk about what’s important—you two.”

  I was trying to figure out why they might have talked recently. I desperately hoped that I could just sweep the story aside with “Yeah. He’s nice.” I changed the radio station for added effect. Then my eyes darted over to Dad, who returned the side-eye.

  “So, tell me about him,” he said.

  Dad had to have heard the anxiety in my voice as I offered information on Adam that amounted to his name, rank, and serial number. Why was Dad doing this to me?

  “Your Mom thinks you two have become pretty serious, pretty fast,” he said.

  Somehow Dad was managing to simultaneously stare at me and drive the car. I needed to make a joke. “Dad, don’t expect to be paying for a wedding for at least ten years, and at this point I wouldn’t bet any money on him being the groom, okay?”

  Dad’s eyes went back to the road. He exhaled. “Nicki, you know I don’t think something serious right now would lead to a wedding. That’s not what I’m getting at.”

  Oh God. Dad was going to have a sex talk with me. He had always left these things up to Mom. Humor hadn’t worked before, so I tried gratitude to get him to back down. “I appreciate your…um…concern, but Mom and I talked. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I know.” He side-eyed me again and then looked back at the road. “Your mom told me about the…er…doctor that you’re going to see. I wanted to talk with you about something else.”

  He smiled after he’d said it, but it didn’t work on me. I was not at ease, and he didn’t appear to be either. Dad talking to me about something like a gynecological appointment was way weird and totally embarrassing. I looked at him apprehensively. “What do you want to talk about?”

  He acknowledged my suspicion by focusing only on the road. “Listen, I’m a realist. It’s not like I think you’ll wait until you’re married. I just would like for you to have some history with someone over a considerable period of time. I don’t like it that he’s leaving in a few months.”

  Turning to the window, I mumbled, “I don’t like it either.” I refused to go back to that well of darkness, though. I had done my best to stay out of it since Mom had dumped all over me before Christmas. I looked at him squarely and nodded. “Got it, Dad.”

  But he wouldn’t give it up. “Just do me a favor and…when you’re with him…stop before things get out of hand. Make sure he’s the right one.”

  I went back to the window, lost in the conversation. In a very low voice, I pondered to myself but still aloud, “What exactly constitutes ‘out of hand’?” I was pretty sure that whatever “out of hand” was, Adam and I were about to get there soon.

  “Nicki, what are you asking?”

  Turning to Dad, I saw he was startled. My eyes widened with some embarrassment. “Sorry, Dad. I was talking to myself. I forgot you were here.”

  He looked relieved and chuckled. “Well, I’ll still answer the question without getting into specifics. I would say ‘out of hand’ is somewhere between not wanting to stop and not being able to stop…and closer to the latter. As for what exactly is…going on at that point…I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

  I nodded. “Got it.” My mind ran through my encounters with Adam, and I quickly decided that nothing had gotten out of hand yet. But I couldn’t imagine really ever wanting to stop anything with Adam. As for him being the right one, well, as Rachel would put it, I could do much worse.

  We sat in silence for a moment.

  When we got to a red light, Dad faced me full on. “Nicki, I’m sorry if I’m sounding heavy-handed and intrusive. Since I’m not back there often, I haven’t met the guy to—”

  “To scare the living shit out of him?”

  Dad laughed hard—so hard that he didn’t seem to care that I’d cursed. “Yes. Scare the shit out of him. That’s exactly what I would do, and more.”

  Later that afternoon, I curled up on Lauren’s bed. If anything was out of place in her room, it was only because I’d left it that way the last time I’d been there. Yet it felt like so much else had changed in my life since Thanksgiving. I thought about Adam—the big change in my life in the last month. He’d made me happier, but not fully happy. He helped me, but he couldn’t fix me.

  If Lauren were alive today, I wouldn’t be talking about Adam with her that much. I’d be just as alone in my thoughts about him as I was right now. The age difference between Lauren and me usually didn’t matter, but I knew that a lot of my relationship with Adam was not age appropriate for a thirteen-year-old. I certainly wouldn’t have told her about that conversation with Dad. It’s not like I would never have talked with Lauren about that stuff, but definitely not for a couple of years.

  But now that Lauren
was dead, did she know everything anyway? Was Lauren’s soul hanging out around me? I looked up at her ice-blue ceiling and wondered exactly where she was. No divine revelation occurred, though. No angel or Saint Lauren descended from heaven. Just me, crying alone and thinking out loud again. It was the new normal that I had to get used to.

  I got home to Bellaire in the late morning on New Year’s Eve. Mom got me settled at home and then went shopping. She said something about a party she was going to that night, which seemed a little more festive than I’d expected from her, but that was a good thing.

  When I flipped through the letters and advertisements, a postcard fell to the floor. I smiled immediately because it was a detailed map of the London Underground.

  Adam sent me a postcard of a map! He’s so clever. I eagerly turned it over to see what he’d written:

  I miss you, Sweetheart.

  He hadn’t signed it, but the card was addressed to me in his distinct handwriting. I sank to the floor, smiling a huge, giggly smile.

  Chapter 21

  FROM THE MOMENT I OPENED MY EYES on Saturday morning, I was nervous. Was Adam going to call me today?

  When he did call in the late afternoon, he sounded like he was happy to talk to me but also exhausted. My heart did a little dance when he said that he still wanted to see me, despite being so tired.

  Adam opened the door to his house before I even got up the walk. We met halfway, where he grabbed me close and kissed my hair. Like his postcard, he said, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

  I got on my tiptoes to say in his ear, “I missed you, too.” I pulled away and smiled. “You didn’t have to come outside, you know.”

  “I’d rather say hello to you out here than in there under my mum’s eye.” As if to prove his point, he gave me a slow, sweet kiss.