by Jolene Perry
We sit on the couch, close but not so close we’d accidentally touch—but not on opposite sides either, so we might be getting something back. He’s been my friend for too long for me to give up on us completely.
“Do you need to talk? About being lucky or your dad or …”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not right now. I can piece that together later. What … what do you want to know? I’m guessing you have questions for me.” And how many times will I hate myself for asking?
“I need to know what happened. With you. Me. Why we split for real. What happened when we were apart.” Elias leans back and turns his head toward me, almost resigned. “This is horrible, horrible timing. So we can do this later. I thought I could come and be here with you just to make sure you weren’t alone, but … I don’t think I can without answers.”
What I’m about to do to him claws at me, and my chest aches because I know everything I tell him about Rhodes will make him feel as horrible as I do—or worse.
Elias’s sad features deepen when I don’t say anything so I just start. I tell him about how Rhodes came for dinner before that first day of him substituting in school and how he stood too close and made me confused, and Elias’s brows rise in surprise that it all started so soon, which makes me feel worse, which makes me talk faster.
I tell him about Rhodes and my writing and college and how I got so mixed up in what I thought I wanted. And how part of me was sad Elias wouldn’t break the rules for me. How it was so amazing when Rhodes did and wanted to, until it actually happened. I don’t give Elias specifics, but I do tell him we went too far but didn’t have sex, and that’s when I knew I’d done everything wrong and backward and horribly. Then Dad had his stroke and I needed to reevaluate everything I’d been thinking because I was doing it all wrong, and when I was with Elias, I was doing it all right because I was in the right place.
I’m not only crying, but I’m crying so hard I’m snotty and probably gross, and Elias does the most perfect, most amazing thing.
He raises his arm for me to snuggle in, and I practically leap across the couch to nestle my head on his chest.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Elias. I didn’t. I wasn’t ready to wear your ring, that’s all. I’m not ready for forever. Columbia is … I want it so bad I dream about it at night, and trying to split my head and heart between what I need for myself and you … It wasn’t fair to you or me. I’m sorry I broke things off in such an awful way. I could have said this in the beginning. I just didn’t know how. Or I was afraid, or …”
He rubs his hand up and down my arm a few times as I get my breathing under control.
All I want to do is tell him I’m sorry over and over and over and over, but I pull away a little. “I can’t take back what I did with Rhodes and how I handled things with you, and I hate that I can’t.”
He blinks a few times and a tear falls down his cheek.
I did this.
I wipe it away, and we sit in silence long enough that I’m not crying anymore and long enough that I sort of know Elias and I have broken down the awful barrier of not talking to each other, and maybe more than that.
He nods and then pats his chest again so I go back to resting my head on him.
I don’t know what we are now, but it doesn’t matter. I take my first long breath in two days.
38
“You gonna get that?” A voice jolts me from sleep.
“Huh?” I blink a few times when I realize I’m still on the couch.
“Your phone.” Elias grins as he hands it to me. “It’s been dinging every five to ten minutes for over an hour.”
“Oh.” I sit up and a blanket falls off my shoulder and onto my lap. “What time is it? Did you stay? How long was I out?”
“Shhh.” Elias chuckles. “You crashed last night. I stayed. I slept on the love seat. Suki called to say your dad is doing fantastic and will be coming home within the next few days, and Lachelle’s name keeps coming up on your phone’s screen. I’d love to stay, but I gotta get to work.”
“Lachelle?” I wake up my phone.
Elias gives my shoulder a squeeze before walking around the sofa and toward the front door. “Suki will be back to bring you to your dad shortly. Okay?”
“Yeah.” I’m staring at the text on my phone, but the words aren’t making sense. When I hear the front door open, I realize Elias is leaving. “Thank you!”
“Yep,” he answers before the door closes behind him.
Summer writing workshop got two last-minute dropouts. I called you the second I found out. I know you missed enrollment for fall, but so many people go straight from the workshop into classes. Maybe you could take back your deferment letter if you were here to talk to them in person? I have room in my place. Remember how close to campus I am? Please come. Please.
My fingers start to shake so badly that I can barely hold my phone. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. I’m not … attached, I don’t think, but there’s no way I could leave Dad or …
“Clara?” Suki calls as the front door pushes open. “You here?”
“Yeah …” I squeak before clearing my throat. “Yeah. Here.”
“Would you like to go see your dad? He’ll probably be home tomorrow or the next day. We’ll have a nurse here, but he’ll be glad to be out. Wheelchair for a while until the swelling goes down, but nothing we can’t handle, right?”
The words print across my brain but don’t stick.
“Your neighbors are taking care of the horses, so we don’t have to go deal with them.” Another pause. “You coming?”
I push off the blanket and stumble toward the front door. I’ll worry about hair and breakfast later. I’m too … What do I even tell Lachelle? What do I want?
I could just go for the summer. That would be fine. I mean, doable maybe if it weren’t for Dad. I can’t leave him right now. Not like this.
“You got a lot of waking up to do,” Suki teases as I step through the door, still staring at Lachelle’s text.
“Hmm.”
“Your dad and I have a few things we want to run by you, and we’ve got a drive ahead of us, so scoot in and let’s get moving.”
My legs are heavy and feel weird as I make my way to her car. I type Lachelle a text once I’m buckled.
Not sure what to think yet.
She replies immediately. No thought necessary. Come.
What she doesn’t realize is that it’s never this easy. I push my hair back and lean my head on the headrest.
“What are you intent on over there?” Suki chuckles as she pulls out of the driveway.
“Columbia. It’s sort of been a thing of mine.” I drop the phone in my lap and close my eyes.
“A thing?”
“Salinger, Welty … I mean the list of writers who went there is …”
“Impressive,” she finishes. “And you had a good time when you went.”
“Amazing.” There’s no other way to describe it. “I never told Dad, but it’s the school, you know? Mom went there, then she got me started on a few authors who went there, and if someone were to ask which school I’d take above all others—”
“That’s what you’d say.”
I open my eyes and stare at the trees. “That’s what I’d say.” Except I didn’t want to go until my scars were fixed, and now I can’t be fixed in the way I thought, but maybe … I’m not on a cliff. I’m on a tightrope. Believing that I could ever be okay with how I look is like starting across that rope, a precarious balance, but … what if I could make it out the other side? What if I could do the small fixes—bleach, maybe some shots or grafts or … whatever is suggested, and then be okay with what’s left? Part of me doesn’t want to want that because I want to feel pretty again, and part of me is desperate for it.
She frowns. “I don’t think your father knows Columbia is such a big deal for you. I got the impression he sent you just to show you how big the world is and because Rhodes has a friend there.”
I
bite my thumbnail. “I’d be surprised if he knows how huge it is for me.” I’ve been afraid to speak the words for too long.
“Hmmm.”
“They have two openings in the summer workshop program, and I could probably snag one of them.”
“And from there, you could probably start classes in the fall.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I asked to defer. I didn’t give them my deposit …” I pull in the deepest breath I can like it’ll somehow make me feel less … stressed. But the maybe could be a yes because even though I told myself I wasn’t going, I told them I’m coming next fall. Maybe I knew all along.
“Everything else aside, is that what you want?”
What I want. Tears spring to my eyes immediately. “I don’t know anything. Every time I make a choice, it’s the wrong one. I don’t trust myself anymore.”
Suki gives my knee a squeeze. “That feeling won’t last forever. And you know what your dad would say.”
“He’d tell me to spend more time on my knees praying.” The problem is that there’s a whole practical side, and I’m not sure how to reconcile that yet. “It’s so expensive, and I’d be so far …”
She chuckles. “I can see that smile trying to break through already.”
I press my fingers all around my eyes trying to get rid of any hint of tears. “Please don’t say anything to anyone, okay?”
“Summer program has to start soon.”
So soon. Too soon. “Three days. I need to tell them tomorrow.”
“Well.” Suki smiles widely again. “That means you got twenty-four whole hours to let this sit in your brain, but while it sits, can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t you dare stay here because of your dad. He’ll be okay. Don’t stay here because of Elias, whatever’s going on between you two. And don’t go because Rhodes obviously wants you to. This is the time in your life when you’re putting together your life. It’s way too early to wrap yourself around what anyone else wants for you. Your decisions right now aren’t forever ones unless you get knocked up.” She winks.
I shake my head. “It’s not that easy. Everything I decide could have lasting consequences I haven’t even thought of yet.”
“It is that easy.” Suki’s voice is stern. “It would break your dad’s heart if he thought you gave up on something you wanted because of him. And any boy who loves you? It should break his heart too.”
“Well, I don’t have any boy.” Three days … three days … three days … Can I pick up and leave in three days?
Dear Heavenly Father,
I know my bargains haven’t gone so well, but if you’d leave a note in my room or give me some lightning or some kind of answer, I promise I’ll find a way to pay you back.
Thank you,
Clara
I stand, stunned, in Dad’s hospital room. “I’m sorry, what?”
Dad chuckles. “Married. You know. Wedding bells, white dresses, big cake, only …”
“Without all of those things,” Suki says. “And at the courthouse.”
“And we’re doing it tomorrow,” Dad adds.
“Dad.” I widen my eyes. “I just … It’s just …”
He reaches out and grasps my hand. “Life can be short. I love her in a way I didn’t think I’d love another woman. I’ve been afraid to move forward for a thousand different reasons, none of which felt important when I sat here in the hospital realizing what I might miss out on.”
I want to harass him more, but it’s not crazy. He and Suki together make complete and total perfect sense. Like two love poems—totally different in rhythm and style, but both ending in happily-ever-afters.
“Tell me where to be and what to wear, and …” I shrug but the smile is starting to take over.
I throw my arms around Suki who lets out a small “oh” and hugs me back.
“My girls.” Dad grins. “I’m one lucky man.”
I glance back and forth between him and Suki a few times. She’s already so much a part of our family that everything feels … right. Now I need to find that same feeling about whatever I decide to do. The problem is that every time I close my eyes or let a decision creep in, I hear the same word whispered somewhere so deep inside that I don’t know if it’s just something in me that wants it, or if it really is what I should do, but it says the same thing every time.
Go.
39
The musty smell of the old courthouse pinches at my nose, and I smooth my hands over the silkiness of my dress again. Dad isn’t patient enough for a full-on Mormon temple forever-wedding, if that’s what they decide to do. He wanted to be married to Suki now.
The wooden walls and benches are worn, but so is almost everything in Knik.
Elias takes my breath away when he steps into the courtroom in a dark gray suit. It cuts perfectly over his strong shoulders and nips in at his narrow waist. His eyes meet mine and my insides pool into warmth.
“Wow.” Cecily nudges me.
“He always will be.”
“Always will be,” she agrees.
“Okay!” Dad claps his hands, his wheelchair and hospital stay only slowing him a little. He’s already twitching his feet. His road to walking will be long, but it’ll happen. And he’ll have Suki.
Her sister flew down from Nome, and both women are tsking and fussing over lapels and flowers and lipstick—both wearing the same startling shade of pink.
Elias sticks his head between me and Cecily and steps forward until he’s standing between us. He holds out his arms and we each take one. The relief that comes from talking to Elias again is something so huge that I can’t measure it—a piece of my life has settled back into place, which makes moving forward a lot easier.
The ceremony is brief and to the point and, with a bit of a naughty kiss considering their age, it’s done.
Elias gives me a quick peck on the cheek and then gives Cecily a quick peck on the cheek.
Cecily cocks a brow as she leans away with a smile.
“Didn’t want you to feel left out.” He grins.
I squeeze Elias’s arm tighter. “I’m leaving,” I say tightly.
“What do you mean?” He pulls back.
“For Columbia.” I push out a breath. “I told them this morning. The program starts in two days, so I’m gone—”
“Late tonight,” Cecily interrupts. “And I’m stuck here for the rest of the summer. But we’ll be catching up in the fall!”
“If I’m there in the fall. They sent out letters to wait-listed students, but I talked to admissions and if someone says no, I can maybe have their spot. I sort of fudged timelines around Dad being in the hospital, so Columbia allowed me to cancel my deferment. But for now, New York.” And I’m okay with only knowing what will happen over the next couple months. The rest I can decide later. “I might be home to get my lip fixed between summer and fall or maybe not until Christmas break. But I’m going.”
“Clara …” Elias’s jaw drops before he grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m shocked but happy and so, so proud of you. This is so much to take in. Your mom … You know how amazed she’d be, right?”
I nod as I tighten my arms around him.
“You’re going to be fantastic,” he says.
“’Course she is.” Dad laughs as he swats Elias’s leg playfully. “My Ivy League girl. Everyone, load up because I just got married and now I need a steak.”
I give Suki a tight hug before she pushes Dad out of the courtroom. Ivy League Girl.
It’s real. Columbia is real.
Goose bumps break out across my skin, and there’s no lightning or note or whatever I asked for in my last bargain-prayer, but my decision finally feels right. I’m going to take that feeling with me all the way to New York.
40
“I have to say I’m a little jealous of Cecily,” Elias teases as he rests his arms on Snoopy’s stall.
I breathe in the smell of the barn knowing how desperately
I’m going to miss being out here. Between Suki and Cecily and the neighbors, my horses will be taken care of, but I’ll miss my time with the wood and warmth and smells. Some of my best memories of Mom are in here, and the loss of her will follow me, but the memories will too.
“NYU is still many blocks away.”
He turns sideways and leans against the stall so he’s facing me. “Closer than here.”
“Closer than here,” I agree.
I’m not sure what Elias is getting at. I don’t know what I want. I do know that I miss him. That I miss the easy way we were together until I got crazy on both of us.
He steps closer to me and turns toward Snoopy again, letting our arms touch. I don’t think, just rest my head on his shoulder. There’s so much between us, and I’m glad there is, but I also wish there wasn’t. I’m conflicted, like I seem to be all the time.
“What are we, Elias?”
“I don’t know.”
I rest my chin on his shoulder and watch him. “Are you okay with that?”
He laughs lightly and I know he’s about to tease, which is sort of perfect. “It’s better than being dumped by you.”
I kiss his shoulder before resting my cheek against it again. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I panicked.”
“I love you.” Elias says it like he knows it. And he does. He loves me in a lot of different ways, I think.
“Yes, I know,” I say. I’m just not in a place where I can say it back. I love him as a friend and as the boy who sat next to me when Mom died, but more than that? It’s too much to think about, and I don’t know what it means to love him or to say I love him. I said it to him too many times without meaning the words in the same way he meant them. That’s not going to happen again.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m going to answer your question.”
I stand silently and slide my hand around the arm I’m leaning on.
“I don’t know what we are, but I’m also okay with that. Weird, considering that the label of us, of going steady, of being engaged felt so comforting. But now … it’s different because I know how I feel about you and that’s enough. And I couldn’t be more proud. I know someone won’t take their spot at your school, and you’ll end up staying there in the fall and wowing the crap out of them. I want that for you. So bad.”