To See You Again

by gard, marian

"That's not a ‘no', Collin."

  "Look, it didn't end well between us, and it fucked me up for a long time because we were so close, and I don't get close to people." I run my fingers through my hair and look away from her, staring off into the kitchen.

  "Are we close?"

  "Yes," I say, sounding more exasperated than I intended.

  "Then why didn't I know about this? Or her? Why have you kept it from me?" Tears start running down her cheeks again.

  "It wasn't about keeping it from you, Leighton. I just never saw a point in talking about it. It was over and done with and I really wanted to forget about it," I reply, as calmly as I can. Leighton examines my face carefully and looks completely unconvinced.

  "I want to know you!" she cries.

  "You do, Leighton." I try to pull her toward me, but she resists, pushing me away.

  "That's the thing, Collin. Our pasts are part of us, especially the painful stuff. The tough things you went through made you the man you are today, and all of that shapes your future too, our future. If you aren't telling me about these big parts of your past, then that's the same as lying to me!" she yells.

  "That's a bit dramatic, Leighton. Don't you think?"

  She slams her water glass down on the table and stands, turning to face me. "No, Collin. Keeping a poster size photo of the girl you love in your basement for ten years, and then hiding her identity from your girlfriend—now that's dramatic!"

  Chapter 21

  Rachel

  "That's because you know I'll beat you." Beckett's brother Brandon tips his head back slightly, flopping his shaggy, dark hair aside. It returns in the exact same spot on his forehead, slightly covering his left eye.

  "Whatever, dude. You're not going to suck me in again," Beck replies, refusing to make eye contact. I glance over at his mother, enjoying her bemused expression.

  "It's good to know you two have grown up," she quips, giving me a wink.

  "Just make sure you ask your mother if you can be excused from the table before you two race each other to the basement," I tease. No one here needs a crystal ball to know that's exactly what's coming next. Brandon and Beck meet each other's eyes at the same moment and burst away from the dinner table in a flurry. Just as Beck pulls away from his chair, he bangs his long leg on the edge of the table, causing all the silverware to rattle and his water glass to topple over. I catch it just in time and he winks at me.

  "Thanks, Baby. Sorry, Ma!" he calls out as he and Brandon shove each other en route to the basement door. I turn and smile at Beck's mom Lydia. It's a rare night at their house. Usually, there are at least seven of us, but Beck's dad is out of town and his other brother and his wife couldn't make it.

  "I guess some things never change," Lydia says as she and I collect the dishes and head to the kitchen. "They've always been so competitive. At least it's just the two of them fighting tonight." I nod, thinking of how the three of them seem to bring their collective age down at least ten years whenever they're together. "I secretly sort of love it," she whispers as she fills the sink with hot, soapy water. "It's a good reminder that they're still my babies." She turns and smiles warmly at me. Beck's mom should be eligible for the sainthood, for what she's put up with while attempting to run this house full of testosterone. She wears her gray hair in a youthful ponytail nearly all the time, and I've often thought how much that reflects who she is—this wonderful combination of wisdom and an energetic spirit. I hand her a plate, and after placing it aside with the other dishes, she gives me a tight squeeze. "You don't seem like yourself, Rachel. Are you OK?"

  I inexplicably blush. "Oh yeah, I'm fine."

  She smirks, not buying my BS in the slightest.

  "Beck has told me things at work have been a little stressful for you lately." She smiles again.

  I shrug. "Yes, that's true. I have some big things going on now. It's complicated." To say the least.

  "Don't put up with assholes for too long, Rachel. That's what I always say. If you're not careful, they'll make you into one, too." I grin and nod, enjoying her advice, which is, as always, delivered in her frank, and occasionally crass, style.

  "I can handle the assholes, I think. There's just a lot riding on this thing I have coming up, and I need to do everything right. If it goes well, I could finally get some of the advancement I've been hoping for." Yelling erupts from the basement and we both giggle. "What is it with boys and video games?"

  "Who knows?" she laughs. I hand her another dish, which she dunks in the water. She gazes out her kitchen window just over the sink and asks me in an uncharacteristically serious voice, "Are you sure that's all, Rachel? You seem off tonight." I shrug. "I know I'm not your mother and I don't intend to replace her, but I see you as a daughter and if I can ever help you, I'd like to."

  My throat clenches. I want to tell her how much I see her that way too, but it feels like such a betrayal to my own mother to say it out loud. It always has. I know my mom loves me, but she's had a tough time being there for me in the way I've often needed. Lydia ushered me into her home and their life as though I'd always belonged. I've never really communicated just how much it has meant to me. I feel like I need Lydia now more than ever. Nothing in my life feels like it's in its place or makes sense, but the trouble is a big part of it is her son. I know I love Beck, but I'm not sure if I love him enough, and all of that makes me feel like I don't deserve her, or any of this…this beautiful family life that she's offered to me so unconditionally. I feel like an imposter.

  "Thanks, Lydia." I place my head on her shoulder and she hugs me again, wetting my sleeve with her soapy hands. Beck bursts upstairs.

  "Almost ready to go, Rach?" he asks in an overly casual tone. He's scratching his head as though he just woke from a nap. It's a lame cover for his disappointment of losing in whatever juvenile virtual death match he just had with his brother.

  "Got beat that bad, huh?" I retort.

  "Yeah he did!" Brandon appears in the kitchen with a smug grin plastered on his face. He and Beck could be twins if it weren't for Brandon's graying hair and slight potbelly.

  "Ah, whatever. He plays twice as much as I do," Beck mumbles. I refuse to comfort him over lost video games. I've tried to watch him play, but I haven't a clue what's going on and I definitely don't care.

  "Let me help your mom finish cleaning, then we can head out," I say.

  Lydia takes the towel from me. "Oh, nonsense. You two have work early. Brandon, c'mon in here and help me with the last of this." She gestures to the remains of the dinnerware and Brandon nods and heads over to me.

  Taking the towel from my hands he says, "You better drive Beck home, Rach, I'm not sure if he's safe to drive with all those tears of loss in his eyes." He points at his own eyes and rolls his lower lip down in an exaggerated frown.

  I look behind me for Beck's reaction, but he's already in the front hall getting our coats and is safely out of earshot. I give Lydia and Brandon hugs goodbye and head out with a significantly grumpier Beckett.

  *** *** ***

  A short while later, in my bedroom, Beck places his arms around my bare midriff and starts a trail of feather-light kisses along my neck. I pull away from him and slip my pajama shirt over my head.

  "Hmm…" he frowns. "So, I'm locked out?"

  I scrunch up my face in confusion. "Locked out?"

  He gazes at me from top to bottom. "Well, that over-sized t-shirt doesn't exactly say, yes, I want to sleep with you too, tonight."

  He's right.

  "I didn't say that," I defend.

  "You didn't have to. That shirt says it all," he says, sounding defeated.

  I reach up and cup his face with my palm. He regards me quietly; a trace of rejection just below the surface can be seen in his eyes. This isn't the first time I've seen that look, or been responsible for putting it there. Before we started dating, I was aware that Beck was interested, mostly because Vanessa, who introduced us, insisted emphatically that he was. We did the group thing wi
th Vanessa and Ryan a number of times before he started calling me. Then we hung out alone a bit, but I purposely kept things light and casual.

  Then, after a couple of months, I showed up to work one day and there was a tremendous bouquet of flowers in the center of my desk. It was seriously the largest arrangement I'd ever seen outside of some charity ball or wedding. Inside was a card from Beck making his intentions crystal. The ladies in my office went crazy and I had to ask myself why I wasn't just going for it? He's smart, funny, handsome and very clearly, likes me. What was my problem? So, that same night we had our first true date and we've been together ever since. I used to feel like I had the upper hand in a way, because I'd held off so long in accepting his advances, but he's more than made up for that by now. In just about every way he rules our relationship, and Vanessa's right—I've let him do it.

  But when it's just the two of us, alone in the dark, the scales seem to temporarily tip back in my favor. We both know it. There's still some piece of him that worries I'll reject those flowers. It scares us both. I inch up on my toes and bring my lips to his. I feel both relief and passion course through him as he grips me tighter and kisses me back.

  Chapter 22

  Rachel

  I'm standing in front of Collin's townhome with a bag of clothing belonging to both Leighton and him in my hand. My finger hovers over the doorbell, shaking, as I resist doing anything other than holding it in the air. Then I graze the button lightly with the tip of my index finger. It's too soft of a touch to engage the bell, but the mere contact between Collin's home and me is enough to make me withdraw my hand entirely, like I'd suffered a burn in a hot oven. I exhale, thinking better of this whole excursion, and start heading down the stairs at a near run. I'll just mail this crap. It's cowardly, but oh, well. Before I hit the sidewalk, though, the door opens and a familiar sing-songy voice rings out.

  "Can I help you?"

  I whirl around and look up sheepishly to a young woman standing in the doorway. She's wearing a tank top and form-fitted sweats that undoubtedly have writing across the butt. Her hair is drawn up in a half bun on the top of her head. It's the kind of style that's supposed to look haphazard and casual, but in all likelihood, required time to perfect. She doesn't need to say another word, and I definitely don't need to look at her for a second more. I would know that voice anywhere. Reba.

  "Is that you, Raven?" Her voice is a mix of incredulity and amusement.

  "Reba?" I reply. It comes out like a question, but in my mind it's a confirmation.

  "No shit! What are you doing here? I was all, ‘Who the hell is the weirdo creeping by the front door?'—And it's Raven! This is amazing!"

  Great. That's a good one for her to tell her brother—I'm Raven, the weirdo. I study her face for a moment and then lift up the wrinkled Target bag I'm still clutching in my hand. "It's a long story, but I'm…um…returning this to his girlfriend." Reba has descended the stairs and is guiding me by my free hand into Collin's house. I follow her, lamely, like I have lost my sight and am dependent on her for guidance. I shuffle along a step behind her, unable to say any more. I guess I'm a mute now, too.

  "Oh my, gosh! Get in here!" she exclaims, as she shuts the door behind us and I stand dumbly in the foyer. I'm pretty sure it's official now. This is the definitely the twilight zone.

  "Reba, I would love to catch up, but I was on my way to work and I don't really have a lot of time so—" I tilt my head toward the door.

  She interrupts me, still grasping my hand, and now dragging me up the stairs and into Collin's kitchen. "Oh please, Raven, you've got a minute at least, I'm sure. Do you usually work on Saturdays?" That's Reba, intrusive as ever.

  "It's actually Rachel, now." I look down at my watch and huff out a not-so-subtle sigh. "I work for a few hours most Saturdays, but so does, like, half the office…it's…um, not just me." Looking back up, Reba is staring at me and smiling a ridiculously huge smile that makes her look almost muppet-like. I can't help but crack a little. Once she sees my smile, she snatches the Target bag from me in such a child-like manner that I nearly bust out laughing. Some things haven't changed, I guess.

  "What on earth did you borrow from Leighton?" She asks, dumping out the once neatly folded pile of clothes, onto Collin's kitchen island.

  "It's a long story. There was a blackout where I live and so we stayed here. She lent me some work clothes for the next day. Oh, and there's a shirt there that's Collin's, too. I had it dry cleaned," I mumble. I don't really think she's listening as she holds up the blouse Leighton lent me.

  Reba doesn't mask her surprise. "I'm shocked the little elf had anything that fit you!"

  "Um…" I am not responding to that.

  "No, no, no…I'm not saying you're big. Far from it! She's like creepy miniature. In fact, Raven, er Rachel I mean, you look amazing! You don't look like you've aged a day since I last saw you!" she exclaims.

  That's a nice sentiment, but I'm not really accustomed to taking compliments from Reba, so I don't reply beyond a brief half smile.

  "So, what did Collin say when you guys got together? That little shit hasn't even told me that he finally looked you up!" she exclaims, and I feel like my ears are ringing. God, was she always this loud? "I've only told him for like half a decade to just google you already!" She examines my worried expression and adds, "Don't worry, Collin is visiting his mom today and Leighton isn't around." She cups a hand to her mouth likes she's going to whisper, but she's still loud as hell. "We're safe for girl talk." She giggles, and I join in, nervously. "So, back to your reunion," she urges.

  "Oh, um, yeah OK. Um…he didn't call actually, we were both at a charity event and ran into each other." It sounds so completely random when I say it out loud.

  "No way!" she gasps and covers her mouth dramatically. "So it was, like, fate?"

  I shrug. "I guess you could say that."

  "Wow! So was Leighton like crazy jealous of you, or what?" She leans over the island expectantly.

  "Leighton?" I feel my face go hot. How in the hell am I having this conversation with Collin's stepsister? This is beyond bizarre. "She was really sweet, actually. I guess I should clarify. My boyfriend, Beckett, was there, too—for the charity event and the black out." I instinctively begin backing away from her. Even now, as a full-fledged adult, Reba intimidates the hell out of me.

  "Boyfriend, huh? Not husband?" She raises her eyebrows and gives me a devious smile.

  Where is she going with this? "Reba, it's been really nice to see you again, but I have to go. I'm swamped at work." I do my best to sound firm as I start to head toward the door and she comes running up behind me.

  "Wait. Wait, I'm sorry. Listen, please don't go yet. I guess I'm forgetting the last time you saw me was back when I was still pretty stuck up. I'm sorry about all that. I was kind of screwed up back then. I never really meant any of it." She's holding my arm and looking at me earnestly. "You don't have to say anything. I know I was a total bitch to you. As weird as this is to say, though, I always really liked you." She cocks her head to one side and we stare at each other for a beat.

  Following our awkward silence, I bust out laughing. "Well, I have to admit, if that was the case, you had a funny way of showing it."

  She gives me a relieved smile. "Things were pretty messed up at that time and I was always defensive around Collin. He was the only person in my life that gave a shit about me, and I used to freak if I thought someone was going to take him away." A deep revelation about her teenage psyche is pretty much dead last on the things I expected this morning, but so was seeing Reba at all. Gone is the childlike look in her face. She's serious and solemn. I set my purse down, because this is clearly gonna take a while.

  "I guess I didn't realize you two were so close?" I rack my brain for alternative stories, but all I really recall are tales featuring her as the family brat, and that was definitely my experience with her.

  "Well, my stepmother didn't really like me, she just pretended to for my
dad. It's only a little better with her now…" She trails off for a moment. "And Dad, well, you met him plenty of times, so I don't really need to explain, right?" I nod my head slightly. I guess I always thought it was just Collin was Victor's main focus for torment. "My brother James was always checked out in one way or another after Mom died." She glances away for a minute and then resumes looking at me. "He lives in Wyoming now. We don't hear from him much." She shrugs in that way that people do when they want to appear indifferent, but couldn't be more opposite in reality.

  "I'm sorry," I say, having no idea how else to respond. In the past, Reba and I had very few direct conversations about anything, though we were often together when I spent time with Collin in the summer or on breaks from school. The intimacy of the topic, and her openness, have me feeling very off kilter.

  "It's OK, really. So anyway, when something was wrong, or I was upset, I always went to Collin. He's a great listener and he would look out for me. There was this one time when this guy I was dating wasn't too keen on a taking no for an answer, and I swear Collin made him piss his pants!" We both laugh—she at the memory, and me at the mental imagery. "I know I annoyed the shit out of him, but he was the one person in my life…well, after my mother died, that I could always count on to be there for me."

  "That sounds like Collin." I feel my eyes inexplicably fill with tears. Of course he would be a hero to Reba and never utter a single word about it to anyone.

  "Are you sure you can't stay just for one cup of coffee?" She raises a single finger to her face and grins at me. I'm pretty sure I would be the world's biggest bitch to say ‘no' after all the sharing time we just had…Well, she shared. I just stared in dumbfounded silence.

  "I've got some time. Coffee sounds great, Reba." She gives me a full wattage smile and I follow her to the kitchen.

  Two cups of coffee later, seated on Collin's couch, Reba is telling me about his depression. I'm both riveted and horrified to hear just how terrible things were for him.