Christian, and how about a week after the party where he’d bared his soul, I’d brought up university.
It wasn’t exactly a secret that I’d been accepted to New York Film Academy, but knowing what Christian wanted to do next year and what dreams besides me he wanted to follow, wasn’t so well known.
This is where it gets confusing.
He didn’t have an answer. Four years to really think about it and he had nothing apart from knowing he wanted me to be a part of it.
There was no clear direction and it was enough to make me want to probe more, maybe even hound him incessantly until he came up with something, but his words about what he thought really mattered that night, well, they’d stopped me cold.
“I’ve never really given a whole lot of thought to where I wanted to be in the future before I moved here. Music, English, hell, even something in Science, since I know I’m good at it. They were all on the table, but none of it mattered. Honestly, it still doesn’t, because without you, the future, while still existing, just wouldn’t mean as much. It would all just be words on a resume. Wherever you are and wherever our life takes us, that’s where I’m gonna end up. That’s where I’ll be.”
Call it me inheriting my mom’s worst trait in wanting the future planned out, at least the immediate one, but that answer, while sweet and liquefying me in all of the right places just wasn’t good enough.
It’s still not.
Brought back to the present by the clearing of a throat and starting to turn at the same moment the person steps into the mirror’s edge, I see who it is and everything I’d just been thinking about crashes to the surface, forcing me to deal with it.
My mom.
“I still can’t believe this is happening.” She admits, continuing to move until I can feel her directly behind me, her face peeking out over my shoulder and the trace of a soft, yet proud smile on her face.
“Way to have faith in me, Mom.” I attempt to joke. One that falls flat as I can’t seem to summon up everything needed to pull it off. We’re still so far apart. The physical distance of me living away from her just as big as the emotional one rearing its ugly head now.
“I just meant,” she continues. “That I hoped you would stay little forever.”
That’s a sentiment we both share, though mine is more based around what’s happened this year and less about what growing up really means.
“It is pretty crazy seeing my reflection and knowing that it’s me and not some other girl this is happening to. It’s kind of surreal.”
“Janice called last night and told me your good news.”
My good news.
With the way the last few weeks have been, that could be one of a few different things. Getting into the school of my choice, being chosen for a super selective program when I’m sure there had been thousands of applicants from all over the world. Getting back together with Christian and how every day since just seems to be better than the ones that came before it. Freely expressing things that for months I’d deluded myself into believing were wrong when history had proven otherwise, and then bonding with Nicholas. The two of us having these twice a week coffee dates where we got to know each other without the stress of my mom and Christian looming, learning we had a lot more in common than I originally thought.
All of these great things happening and all it had taken to get there was for me to admit what I’ve always known inside. What Nick said he knew a week after the bomb dropped.
That I needed to embrace the things that made me happy.
“What news would that be?”
“New York Film School. Emery,” she sighs. “Your dream came true.”
Oh, Mom. You have no idea.
“Did she tell you anything else?”
“Other than your excitement for today and that you were happy, no, but she’s been telling me that for weeks now.”
One of the rules of me staying with Janice had been that she keep my mom up to date on how I was doing. My happiness, or lack of it, and other random things she felt my mom had the right to know. I’d been okay with it, I mean, I didn’t want to completely shut her out, but I am shocked that Janice kept what’s going on with Christian to herself.
“I am happy, Mom. Really happy.”
“Does that happiness have something to do with the boy on the other side of the room that can’t seem to take his eyes off you?”
Turning from the mirror and looking across the room, I see Jonah attempting to make the long blue gown we’re all forced to wear sit properly across his shoulders, while Christian stand to his left, fiddling with his tie, but his gaze on me just like she said. Raising a hand once he realizes he’s been caught, I smile and blow him a kiss before turning back and giving her what she’s after.
“I know you don’t approve…”
“The way you feel about Christian really has nothing to do with me.”
Even after Christian explained how the confrontation with my mom had gone down and what she’d agreed to by the time it was done, I still didn’t expect her to stand here and say this.
“Do you really mean that? Or are you just saying it to keep the peace today?”
“With as important as today is, I would love to keep things peaceful, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. I looked at Christian and saw you father, which was my first mistake. Grasping so tightly onto that and wanting to protect you from a life like mine, I used the way people might view the two of together and forced you apart. I was wrong, Emery. What you and Christian share, while it’s still going to take some getting used to, really is none of my business.”
Studying her as she speaks, looking for any sign that she’s lying or trying to say what she thinks I want to hear most, I can’t find anything. For the first time in months, what she’s standing here and trying to make me believe, is the truth.
My mom is staying true to what she told Christian weeks ago.
She’s trying.
“He makes me happy, Mom.” I admit and as I do, I feel the weight of the last few months begin to lift.
I have no doubt that it’s going to take some time for things to get back to where they were when we were both blissfully unaware we were dating a father and son, but if she’s willing to try, so am I. I miss her too much not to.
“And in a few minutes, you’re both going to take a walk that will make his father and me happier than we’ve ever been. I say that’s a win for all involved.”
“Well, it won’t be happening at all,” I laugh pointing to where the clock is showing the time. “If you don’t get out of here and let us finish getting ready.”
Leaning in, gripping my head and pressing her lips to my hair, I breathe in her scent as she squeezes me one final time before taking a step back and motioning to the door.
“I’ll see you soon, graduate.”
Christian
For the first time in a long time, everything seems to be moving in the right direction.
I’ve got the most amazing girl in the world by my side for one of the biggest moments of my life, she’s letting her mom back in again, and I finally got the letter it feels like I’ve been waiting all year for.
The answer to where I’m going to be this fall.
A letter that not only means I’ll be able to go to school and study my craft while still living my dream, but also one that’s another sign for me and Emery.
New York University.
NYU music program here I come.
Canadian boy from a small ass town moves to the big city in need of a change, does good and moves on to bigger and better things with his girl by his side.
A happy ending if there ever was one.
At least that’s what my Pop’s would say if he were standing here now.
“Heading to New York Film Academy in the fall…Emery Carmichael.”
Watching as she stands and giving her a thumbs up when her eyes find mine as she slips into the aisle, earning me
the smile and laugh I’m after, I follow her as she makes quick work of the stairs and practically runs across the stage until she’s holding the piece of paper in her hand, a grin on her face as the flash of camera’s all over the auditorium go off around me.
Finding me in the crowd, her eyes even from this distance softening, she smiles before blowing me a kiss, her obvious happiness with the way we spent most of the spring, really is like my dad says.
A sight for sore eyes.
Having her be as happy right now as I’ve been since the night of the party is a beautiful thing.
I was wrong the night we made love for the first time. We’re not the perfect song.
She is, and once this ceremony is over and we’re alone again, I fully intend on showing her.
Well, after I tell her about school.
Watching as the next two people in our row are called and waiting eagerly for my name to be called, I follow Emery as she makes her way down the steps and around the auditorium, watching as she leans over the row where our parents are seated and whispers something in my dad’s ear, a smile lighting his face as her arms come around him, the embrace lasting only a few brief seconds before she skips her way back over to me.
Sliding herself across the vacant chairs between us, she slips her hand into mine and squeezes three times, letting me know she loves me, before kissing me.
“Okay, I’m done.” She whispers as she pulls away. “Let’s blow this boring ass party.”
“Future NYU Graduate, Christian Cayne.” The voice of our principal interrupts, dropping my news before I’ve gotten the chance to take her up on her idea of sneaking away in order to tell her.
Pressing my lips to her softly, silencing whatever questions she might have, I let my hand slip from hers as I stand and slide my way out the same way she did, my eyes never once deviating from the two men standing at the podium as I take the long walk to the stage.
With my diploma safe and secure in my hand, I turn, and looking out over the sea of people around me, my gaze fixes on the only one there that matters, giving her something that after four years without it, she’d given me back.
My smile.
This moment might be mine, but if I hadn’t met her when I first moved here, I can’t say it would be one I’d be experiencing in the way I’m getting to now.
I’ve had enough things happen over the last few months that have been just for me.
This one is hers.
The same way that she’s mine.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Christian
“Are you going to tell me what the big rush is to get home, or keep trying to pretend you don’t have a fire lit under your ass?”
There she is. My ball busting firecracker. I wondered how long it would take before she made an appearance.
She’s not entirely wrong, though. For the past two weeks I’ve been on her incessantly about making sure everything for our return to Toronto was set in stone. I even went behind her back a couple of times and called our parents to make sure everything was perfect on their end.
I wouldn’t tell her why it mattered so much, which could have ended with me spending the nights leading up to our departure sleeping on the sofa apart from her, but it was a risk I had to take to make sure it everything went according to plan.
A plan I would like to say was six months in the making, considering it was a letter I received in the mail back then that lit the proverbial fire under my ass, but the truth is, I’ve been wanting to do this for a lot longer than that.
Such is the power of being in love with an Emery.
But wait. I’m getting ahead of myself.
I need to explain the letter.
After the wedding, with the support of his new wife, my dad started going through the boxes he’d locked away in storage when we moved. He ended up coming across some things that belonged to my mom, and knowing how close we were, thought I might want. A lot of the stuff was pretty basic, some puzzles, books and assorted games we used to play before and after she got sick, but he also found a box of letters she wrote. Most of them were addressed to him, but the few that weren’t, after he worked up the courage to do it, he eventually sent to me.
Handwritten words from the mom that even as we’re driving along, I can feel as easily as if she were another passenger in the car with us, instead of watching over me from the sky.
Five year old words that were the kick in the pants I needed to do what’s about to come next. Where I do something guaranteed to make her proud.
“There’s no big secret here, Ems. We’ve just got the break from school and a week off from work and I’m excited to head home to see our folks. No need to sound the alarm.”
Sounds stupid even to me, so when she rolls her eyes and slaps me on the arm, I’m right there with her, but until I’ve made sure everything is in place the way it needs to be, I’ve gotta keep saying stupid crap like this.
I can’t give her what she’s after.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you know me too well?”
With another light tap to my shoulder, she smiles, and just like every other time it’s happened since we got back together, I treasure it, savoring the warmth that it brings.
“Good answer, Cayne, but this isn’t over. I will make you tell me the real reason this trip is so important.”
Focusing back on the road despite how hard it is taking my eyes off her, I smile as I watch the world—cars on the road and trees lining the side of the highway—continue to move around us.
Not long now, Emery. In a few hours you won’t need to hound me for the truth because it’s going to be staring you right in the face. And I can’t wait to see the look on her face when it does.
Looks like the honesty pact loophole I found is about to win again.
Emery
Over the last year, I’ve been taking time to reflect on my life.
Sometimes in class where I can express that reflection in visual form, others when there’s a lull at the campus coffee shop where I work, but most of all, when it’s just me and Christian in our tiny apartment.
Starting with the day I think life for me really began.
The first day of freshman year.
Reflect back on where I started as a gangly and awkward fourteen year old with glasses, stepping up to the doors of Greenville High and almost passing out from the fear I had that everything would change and I’d never be the same again. The way it felt meeting my best friend and how that relationship has somehow managed to become one of the most important in my life. The rise, fall and second coming in the relationship with my mom, and the man I’d gotten lucky enough to have in my life when she met and married him a year ago.
Within a week of getting to Greenville, I’d found my niche taking pictures and playing my acoustic, the fear fading completely and when I did reflect back on that first day, finally believing that the change I feared was coming, never would.
I didn’t have to fear the change because it didn’t exist.
Until a boy with disheveled brown hair and piercing blue eyes stepped out of the Crown Vic and proved me wrong.
The comfortable sameness of my days, flipped like a light switch, until almost a year later, nothing about my life and the way I had been living it at the time was the same again.
It was better.
I was better.
After spending the first month of our new start in New York attempting to juggle classes with time together and failing, both of us sick of the way it felt spending our nights apart, we decided to try living together. A few weeks later, we found a one bedroom situated between both our schools and ignoring the warnings from our parents, we dived in head first.
We were obviously blinded by love.
You know how people say that you never really know the way someone really is until you live with them? Well, I always thought it was crap. Turns out, I was just being naïve because the Christian I kn
ew before, the one that I couldn’t bear to leave every night when I had to head back to my dorm, was the rose colored glasses version of the monster I agreed to live with.
For the first few months, all we did was bicker, and it wasn’t even about anything great. I always thought if we were gonna fit, it would be about something pretty epic, but no. We were arguing about toothbrushes, the toilet seat and the way he can’t seem to stop leaving his clothes all over the place.
It got so crazy that even Johnny and Jonah gave up on us. I think my best friend might have made it a total of thirty minutes during that adjustment period before he’d given us the grade nine flavored ‘fuck you’ and left to go back home.
Thankfully, the way it was in the beginning didn’t last long.
As easily as I can sit and reflect back on what brought us to where we are now—heading home to Toronto to spend a few days of spring break with our parents and friends—it’s thinking about how we got to this exact point over the last year that I like doing the best and it’s pretty easy to see why.
It’s because the way we are now, in love, happy, with only the stress of real world stuff like jobs and school having the ability to bring us down, is the way I think we’re always going to be.
This is the snapshot of our future and despite how crazy it can get sometimes, living together and building toward a life the way we are, it’s the future I want.
It’s not just me that’s better, it’s not even us as a unit. It’s everything.
Or it would be if he would tell me why he’s in such a damn rush to get to Toronto.
I’ve tried everything to get him to tell me what’s really going on, and nada. Teasing him with fun in the backseat the next time he pulls over—even if it is total bullshit—smiling at him in the way I know works because it’s gotten me things in the past, and then the pout. I’ve tried it all and the bastard just smiles and turns his attention back to the road.
The Space In Between Page 35