Until Tomorrow

by Abbie Williams

  Al dug keys from his desk drawer and led us across the street to the diner, not yet open for the day. Becky, baby Tommy and I followed Al up an outdoor flight of wooden steps to a tiny landing on the back of the second-story building, just above the diner. The locked door faced a small parking lot; the little town of Jalesville, even smaller than Landon, stretched beyond that. In the distance, the foothill country shone under the bright sun, in hues of brown from milk chocolate to honey. A shiver shot up my spine, unpleasantly cold and sudden, like an arrow fired upwards from near my hips. The chill of it took me by surprise; I blinked at the far horizon, which seemed to shimmer.

  “As you can see, it’s small,” Al said, guiding us inside, and I followed, grateful for the distraction. There was a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom with a shower stall and a bedroom in which I could probably touch all four walls at once. He added, “But it’s a good price and it will be all yours.”

  “I don’t care that it’s tiny. It’s perfect,” I said. I addressed adorable baby Tommy, Marshall’s nephew, who peered at me from over Becky’s shoulder, as I asked, “What do you think, little guy?”

  Becky bounced her son and responded, “He thinks you’ll love getting to decorate your very own space without having to compromise with anyone else’s suggestions.” She giggled at her words and then said, “C’mon, I hear Trudy’s car. We’ll go ask her for some cleaning supplies and scrub that counter, what do you say?”

  Al made sure that the electricity was on, gave me two keys to the front door, and then went back across the street to the law office while Becky and I worked together cleaning my new apartment, chatting comfortably. I told her, “I’m dying to see Marshall. He doesn’t even know that I’m staying yet.”

  “I don’t have my phone or we could call him,” Becky said. “Crap, and I don’t even know his number by heart. Stupid cell phones – you don’t have to memorize anyone’s number anymore. I could call Garth on your phone…”

  “Maybe we can just go there next,” I suggested, and now that I’d mentioned it, I was aching to get there.

  But first there was something else I had to do – and that something involved Liam Gallagher.

  “Sure thing, Ruthie,” Becky said. “I’m going to run downstairs to Trudy’s and grab a muffin before we go. I’m starved. You want anything?”

  “I’m fine,” I told her. My stomach was twisted and tight at the thought of having to talk to Liam, but I could not be such a coward.

  Left alone in my new place, still floating on a half-disbelieving cloud that I had a place to call such, I walked slowly to the window over the sink and braced my hips against the counter.

  You’re doing the right thing, I reminded myself, and though I knew this was true, my heart shrank at the thought of hurting Liam.

  It would be far worse to stay in a relationship that isn’t right.

  I know.

  The problem was, Liam didn’t know.

  I scrolled to his name and pushed the icon to call him, my chest hot with nerves. He would probably be at work…I was afraid he wouldn’t answer and I would not under any circumstances leave a message to tell him what was happening…

  “Ruthie, where are you?” he demanded upon answering after the very first ring, and then I realized I had Clint to thank for this question; my cousin had certainly already called Liam. Damn him.

  “Hi,” I said, and had to clear my throat. Without giving in to the urge to hedge, I explained quietly, “Liam, I’m staying in Montana. I decided to stay here and help Tish and –”

  “Without calling me first? Had you already decided this when I talked to you this morning?” Liam sounded livid, at least as livid as he was capable. What upset me more was the deep note of pain in his voice. He asked, “When were you planning to tell me about this?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly, cupping my forehead with my free hand. I said, “I decided that I need a break. I’m so sorry, Li. I need a change. From Landon, from –”

  “From me, just say it,” he said, and I could hear the way his voice grated in his throat. “You need a break from me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, unable to deny his words, though I was so sorry to hurt him that my throat felt raw. “I can’t be your girlfriend anymore. Please understand…”

  “Understand what, exactly? Out of nowhere you decide this? Clint said that you just up and decided to stay there, with no warning. Your mom is devastated.”

  “She’s not devastated,” I disagreed. “Clint is exaggerating.”

  “What about me?” Liam whispered. “I’m devastated. I don’t understand this one goddamn bit, Ruthie. At all.”

  My heart shriveled up to hear him restraining tears. He never cried, never cursed. He repeated, “At all.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said again. I was at a loss.

  “I’m sorry, too,” Liam said, and he was choked up. “I love you. Just tell me when you’re coming home.”

  “I don’t plan to anytime soon,” I said quietly, not wanting to lie.

  “But I love you,” he pressed.

  “I have to go,” I whispered.

  “This is bullshit,” he said heatedly.

  “I’m so sorry to hurt you,” I said again, and then hung up.

  I released a tense, painful breath, clenching my forehead. Outside I heard Becky climbing the steps and coming back inside. She called, “You ready? I got us each a blueberry muffin, they’re amazing. You’ll have to watch out – Trudy’s food is delicious and also super fattening.”

  “I’m coming,” I told her, my voice hoarse.

  You did the right thing, I reassured myself. You did something that you should have done a long time ago now.

  It was shitty to spring it on him like that.

  But would it be better to let him think differently?

  No. Truth is better every time.

  And the truth is Marshall. It’s always been Marshall.

  You just had to realize it.

  The intensity of my need to see him swelled even more strongly, even as the goody-two-shoes part of my mind kicked in with, You need to get back on birth control before anything else.

  No touching until then.

  But…

  None, Ruthann.

  I thought, I want Marshall to court me. I want that so much.

  I locked up my new place and Becky drove us through town, out over the gravel roads to Case and Tish’s place, where the crew was working in the deep golden gilt of the summer afternoon sun. I saw Marshall instantly, up on a ladder; he was wearing his hat and his faded jeans, his pale t-shirt much darker now, with sweat. He looked over his shoulder and seemed in that moment held suspended against the deepening blue sweep of the big sky behind him, perfectly silhouetted and still, watching as I flew from Becky’s car and across the road.

  This picture of him would remain forever etched in my mind, of Marshall waiting for me to come to him. Later in my life, when missing him threatened to wrench apart my soul yet again, when I was ready to die with longing for him, I would find myself thinking first of this exact image of him, stark against the cloudless blue Montana sky on the day I told him I was staying.

  Marshall flew into motion at the sight of me, down the ladder and across the yard, and I ran to jump into his embrace; he swept me into his arms halfway between the barn and the gravel road. My arms went around his neck and he picked me right up; I could feel the tremor that passed through him. We were both breathing hard. His hat had fallen to the ground. Against my neck he whispered, “You stayed.”

  I laughed a little, tears gathering. He heard me sniffle and drew instantly back to see my eyes; his expression was of terror and he whispered, “Tell me you’re staying.”

  “Come here,” I said, half-laughing, half-choked up. I smoothed my fingers over the hair falling along the sides of his forehead and then gripped his ears, for emphasis. I said, “I am. I am staying here. Don’t make me flick you.”

  “I’m shakin
g,” he said, and he was. He added, “That’s not very manly of me, but I don’t give a shit. I’ve been so scared all day I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t eat. I’m weak with hunger. But I’m so goddamn happy right now, I can’t even explain in words.”

  “Me too,” I said, and hugged him back to me, kissing his jaw, his ear, the side of his forehead, all with exuberant joy. Marshall set me gently back to the ground and kissed my lips, softly, and then tipped his forehead to mine. The sunlight struck our faces, glinting into our eyes, which were already dazzled by each other; the rays danced over the gorgeous colors in Marshall’s irises.

  “I had a plan all set, if you decided to go back to Minnesota,” he said softly. “I was planning to pack up my truck and come after you. Steal you away.”

  “You were?” I whispered, overcome with emotion, with the sight of his eyes and the scent of him, the feel of his arms around me. This was why I had stayed here. This man.

  “Of course I was,” he said, his eyes caressing mine, telling me more than any words, as did his arms, his every touch.

  “I couldn’t have left, not after last night,” I said quietly, stroking my thumbs over the angles of his cheekbones. “Not after this morning.”

  “I was scared though,” he whispered. “I was so scared today.”

  “I should have called you right away,” I said, kissing his chin. “I don’t have your number, for one thing. And I also wanted to get some things figured out first.”

  “Did you?” he asked softly. “Get some things figured out?”

  “I did. I have a job and an apartment, courtesy of Al. It’s a teeny, tiny place but I don’t mind. I told Tish I’ll stay at the trailer until she and Case get home. Becky is helping me to round up some furniture. Mom is going to send the rest of my clothes.” I let go of his face to put my arms back around his neck and admitted, “I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m bringing you home right this second and we’ll have supper and sit by the fire,” he said, curling both of his hands around my hair at the back of my neck, like a ponytail holder. He added, “I’m going to play songs for you all night. I’m going to sing for you, my sweet angel-woman.”

  I said, “That sounds so wonderful. But Marshall – we have to have an agreement.” I drew a fortifying breath, not sure if I could go through with this or not. But I reminded myself that I had to stick to my guns here. I added softly, “I want us to take things slow. No touching until I can get on birth control here, at the very least.”

  Because we were wrapped in each other’s arms as I spoke this, it seemed a very idle threat. Marshall tightened his arms just a fraction and grinned at me, whispering, “Starting when, exactly, with the no touching?”

  “Soon,” I said, though our lips were only inches apart.

  “I just want you here,” he said seriously, the smile falling from his mouth. He bracketed my face with both hands, so tenderly, and pressed a soft, sweet kiss flush on my lips. And then he removed his hands and stepped carefully back, one pace. He told me, “If that means I can’t touch you for now, then I promise you I won’t. I respect your wishes.”

  I was already unduly cold and empty without his arms. I told him, “But I want to see you every day. Every evening. I want…” and I implored him with my eyes, begging him to understand.

  Before I could finish, he said, reading my mind perfectly, “Me to court you.”

  That he understood this brought tears surging to my eyes. He had even used the word I had been thinking. He knew, he saw. He saw me. I said through a lump in my throat, “Yes, that’s it. That’s it exactly.”

  He dropped to one knee, gracefully, and took my hands into his, bringing my knuckles up to his lips. He kissed the back of each of my hands, his lips warm and soft, and I well knew what they were capable of upon my skin, as my rushing bloodstream clearly attested. He said softly, “Because you are a lady.”

  From the direction of the barn there arose a great deal of whooping and clapping – my gaze darted there to see everyone watching us with undivided attention. I giggled and Marshall surged to his feet and scooped me into his arms, spinning us in circles. He said into my ear, “I’ll stop touching in just a second, I promise.” To everyone observing he yelled, “C’mon guys, let’s finish up! We’re celebrating tonight!”

  Chapter Nine

  At the Rawleys’ hours later, I was bundled into a thick sweater of Marshall’s, a pair of my own jeans and fuzzy wool socks (also courtesy of Marshall), cuddled into a lawn chair. The merriment around the bonfire was infectious and riotous. It was what Clark called a ‘full house,’ all of his boys and their womenfolk crowded around (with the exception of Case and Tish, who wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, as she’d informed me earlier), either guitars or beer cans in everyone’s hands; mine were clasped on my lap. Wy, on my left, had his harmonica, staying on pitch with the little instrument as Garth and Marshall strummed tune after tune, everyone singing.

  I was radiating with happiness. I could not deny this, even as the thought of Liam’s confusion, his stun that I was not returning home to Minnesota, stung like a wound at the back of my mind. I tried to soothe this stinging, reminding myself that it was far worse to continue in a relationship that was not the right one, not for either Liam or me; the most painful part of this was the knowledge that while I felt this way, I knew Liam did not. He loved me, as he’d just reminded me this very afternoon, and had not seen this coming.

  Why does it have to be this way – why do I have to hurt someone, no matter what choice I make?

  Though even if I couldn’t fully articulate it, I understood that if I had to hurt Liam to be with Marshall, I would make that choice every time.

  My eyes went again to the man upon my right, to Marshall, who was absolutely giddy with happiness, his gray eyes alighting on my face time and again, unable to keep from smiling, just as I could not stop smiling right back at him. He had remained every inch a gentleman through dinner, pulling out my chair at the table, not so much as brushing his fingertips on my hand. And yet the heat that flowed between us required no physical contact in order for me to feel the impact of its intensity.

  It would be far more cowardly to go home and refuse to acknowledge what’s between you and Marshall.

  With all my heart, I realized that I belonged here in this moment, my feet curled up on the lawn chair, Marshall’s left forearm no more than inches from my right shoulder as he held the guitar he was playing. I was angled so that I could watch him, which I did without much letup, except when Wy would nudge my arm to get my attention about something or other. Marshall had explained to his family at dinner that he and I were now courting, which was met with general enthusiasm and much teasing.

  Wy said, hardly able to sit still even at the dinner table, “Can I finally tell Ruthann how much you like her?”

  Sean teased, “Ruthie, you get sick of him, you call me.”

  “Your mother was Ruthie’s age when we got married,” Clark said, his eyes fond with remembrance, and my heart panged as though struck with a tuning fork at the expression on Marshall’s face. Clark went on, explaining to me, “I always knew I would marry Faye, from the moment I laid eyes on her.” Clark indicated Marshall and said, “I haven’t seen that particular smile on my boy’s face since he was just a tyke. He’s had his heart set on you for a long, long time now, little Ruthie, and it makes me happy as a lark to see the two of you together here at the table.”

  I thanked Clark and violated my own rule by linking my fingers through Marshall’s; he squeezed my hand tightly within his.

  Garth told his brother, “Marsh, you best count your blessings,” to which Marshall responded sincerely, “Don’t I know.”

  “I had a feeling,” Becky said. “I haven’t seen Marsh so happy since…well, since ever!”

  Much later Marshall drove me over the gravel road to Tish and Case’s place; we were accompanied not only by Mutt and Tiny, who belonged to Case, but also two of the Rawleys’ dogs, bi
g black labs with deep-voiced barks that suggested that they were more than willing to take chunks from any intruder; all four dogs were going to stay with me, at Marshall’s insistence, as he was not too fond of the idea of me sleeping in the trailer alone.

  “I’ll be just fine,” I assured him. “I’m not worried.”

  “If there’s any sort of noise from anywhere within a hundred yards of you, these guys will freak out and then you’ll call 911 and then me, in that order,” he said.

  We had reached the trailer and Marshall’s truck was idling as the dogs bounded happily around the yard. I was having a lot of trouble recalling my self-imposed no-touching rule, given that just over twenty-four hours ago we had been touching and then some, right there inside the trailer.

  “I will, I promise,” I assured him. “If I was scared I wouldn’t stay here.”

  “I’m so happy that you’re here,” he said softly. “I can’t describe to you how happy I am, because it wouldn’t come close to being descriptive enough.”

  “Marshall Rawley,” I said, just because I wanted to say his name and because it said so much. I told him, “I’m so happy, too. Because of you.”

  He took my left hand into his right and brought it to his face, laying my palm against his cheek. He was warm and his lower cheek was bristly with stubble. He closed his eyes and kissed my palm and I almost couldn’t contain a small sound, it felt so good. He lingered over my hand and I was just about to lean over and get both arms around him when he opened his eyes and kissed my knuckles before gently releasing me. I keenly sensed his desire to respect my wishes about taking things slow.

  “Will you be out here in the morning?” I asked.

  “Wild horses couldn’t stop me,” he said. Our eyes held fast, anchored to each other. He added, “And tomorrow night…wait.” He resituated himself on the seat, facing me more directly, and started over. There was not one hint of teasing in his voice, only a sweet sincerity as he asked, “Can I pick you up for dinner at six?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  He grinned and said, “Let me get these guys rounded up for you. And then I’ll go.”