by Jewel E. Ann
As she sat, I kneeled by the box and opened it.
“I told you I played sports. And I loved construction. But my real talent came in the form of spelling bees.” I pulled out a stack of plaques, certificates, and trophies.
She eyed them.
“I took first place at a national competition. I liked words. Dissecting them. Studying their origin. A full year of Latin. My mom used to say I’d never find a woman who really appreciated my word-loving soul. And she was so disappointed in me when I let my love of words die, when I found my new favorite words like…” I grinned “…well, most of them were and still are four-letter words. Sometimes simplicity is best. So gone were the days of winklepicker shoes and ulotrichous women. I gravitated toward fuck, fucker, and fucking. It helped me fit in.”
I could still see my mom rolling her eyes and frowning at my new language. “Who would have ever imagined that a girl … a young woman ten years younger than me would breeze into my life. Beautiful? Yes. Quirky? Absolutely. Innocent? Painfully so. But also a cruciverbalist.” My head inched side to side as I reached for the notebooks and tablets in the box that I hadn’t touched in years. Tossing them on the floor with my awards, I lifted my gaze to hers, but all she did was stare at the pile of notebooks.
Bending down slowly, she retrieved one and opened it to the pages of hand drawn crossword puzzles. “Cruciverbalist …” she whispered.
Where had she been my whole life? And why did she have to come to me in the most forbidden form? My brain didn’t understand and neither did my heart. It was so fucking unfair. I cleared my throat. “An eighteen-year-old cruciverbalist. Really, what were the chances?”
It wasn’t that we shared a unique hobby. It was the mentality of loving words, of studying them, of dreaming of them. Something so rare that finding someone who loved them as much as I did felt like finding the one person who could see my soul. And I couldn’t have her. Not really. Not in the way two people were meant to fall in love.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She glanced up at me.
Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. “I don’t know. I think I was in shock. And maybe a little awe was involved. A suffocating dose of confusion. A little anger at the timing, at your age. At the fact that you’re Rory’s daughter.”
Reese flipped through more pages of the notebook. It felt intimate, her seeing—touching—something that I hid from the rest of the world.
Without looking at me, she said five words I never wanted her to say … to ask. “Do you love me, Fisher?”
“Reese, it doesn’t matter.”
She slowly shook her head. “You mean it doesn’t change anything. And maybe you’re right. But …” She lifted her gaze to mine. “It matters.”
Lumbering to my feet, I took a few steps to stare out the window, sliding my hands in my pockets. “I think I loved you before I met you. But we don’t always get what we want. I let go of my crossword puzzles and word obsession because it didn’t fit into my life any longer. The thing is … I don’t know where you fit into my life. And I know, I know you don’t like your age to matter, but it does. I won’t be the reason you don’t take chances in life. Don’t make marriage and sex your life’s goals. If Rory found out, she’d want to know why. Why I would get involved with an eighteen-year-old girl? And I don’t think cruciverbalist would work. Maybe if our ten-year-age gap was more like twenty-five and thirty-five, I could make a case for word geeks and kismet.”
I turned to face her, to show her how much sincerity my words held. “Loving you is my favorite thing to do. It’s automatic and effortless. And you’re right, that matters. But …”
“It changes nothing,” she whispered, setting the notebook on the sofa before glancing up at the ceiling. “Naked fisherman, you are incorrigible. Moody. Bold. Unpredictable. Brash … and a million other things that are bad for me. Yet it felt like you were the first person in my life who just … fit. The version of myself I dreaded … the version I blamed on your bad behavior, I came to love it. It started to feel like my true skin. It felt good to smile without something in my brain telling me I should smile. You gave my days this vibrant color, and I don’t know what I will see when you’re not…” she pulled in a shaky breath, and it strangled that thing beating in my chest “…when you’re not mine.”
I slid my arms around her waist as she shook with sobs. Her not being mine seemed like a cruel fate. Turning her in my arms, I pressed her cheek to my chest, hoping my heart could whisper the emotions I was too weak to say.
I love you.
I love you now.
I’ll love you when you’re not mine.
I’ll love you forever.
Fisher
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I knew she was leaving for Texas. I needed her to leave. My head needed the space to think again.
“Fisher, can you give Reese a hand with her suitcase?” Rory called upstairs as I drank a tall glass of water after my workout in the garage.
I was hoping to avoid an official goodbye. No such luck.
“I said I can do it. She’s coddling me again,” Reese protested after I jogged down the stairs.
“Well, I’m here now. I’ll carry it.” I took the suitcase and headed up front and loaded it into the back of her Forester.
“Sorry. Really, I had it.”
I shrugged before closing the hatch back. “It’s no big deal.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Enjoy your trip.”
She remained silent, her gaze avoiding mine.
“Reese?”
She paused opening the door.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have known better. It was selfish of me.”
After a hard swallow, she shook her head. “Well, I’m not sorry. Not for any of it. You know, it’s ironic. Adults, real adults, like to lecture young adults like me. They like to paint this picture of hopes and dreams, endless possibilities, and constantly remind us that we can do anything, be anything. But that’s a lie. Because all I wanted was to live a day at a time and figure things out one moment at a time. That’s all I wanted to do. And all I wanted to be was yours.” She shrugged, glancing up at the sky. “I don’t want your apologies or your help because they don’t get me you.”
I already was hers. I just would never ever say the words because she deserved more than the infatuation of new love.
“I’m going to fall in love,” she continued, and I listened. I let her poke tiny holes in my heart with her honesty and her innocence. “And some guy will be lucky to have me. He’ll love me for me. And he won’t care where I’ve been or where I’m going. He’ll just feel so fucking lucky to be the one who kisses me goodnight and wakes up in the morning with me in his arms. He won’t be burdened by my virginity or aggravated that I don’t wear socks with my sneakers. He will be a better man for having found me, and I will be a better woman for having found him. I know they say love is patient, but it’s not. Love is the brightest star in the sky. It doesn’t have a switch or timer. It doesn’t wear a watch or look at a calendar. It’s why we’re here. It’s the only true reason for our existence.”
In that moment, I knew she’d be okay, even if I wasn’t. I knew she’d find her way in the world. I knew she’d experience many hard lessons along her way, and I knew she’d only let them make her stronger. And I envied the man who would have that version of her, but I also felt really fucking proud of myself for not standing in her way.
“I have to go.”
I smiled. “Have a safe trip.”
I had ten years on her. Ten more years of development. Ten more years of my brain perfecting the ability to reason. So why did I feel like my heart just drove off in a Subaru Forester?
Fisher
Chapter Thirty
After a long ride on my motorcycle, I returned home to Reese in my driveway, hands balled, jaw clenched. She was supposed to be on a plane.
She yelled something as I parked in the garage and removed my helmet.
>
“What are you doing here?” I asked, returning my helmet to the cabinet.
“Did. You. KNOW?”
I hadn’t seen her so angry, and that said a lot because I had been her greatest source of anger quite a few times.
“Jesus, Reese.” I turned toward her, unzipping my jacket. “What the hell is going on?”
“Did you know that my mom is a lesbian? Gay. Homosexual. Are you understanding me now?” She shook her head and clawed at her hair.
It wasn’t the woman I knew. It was her Bible. A poisoned congregation of judgmental people telling her what was right and wrong. It didn’t anger me as much as it ripped at my heart. She was broken, and I couldn’t fix her. No one could fix her. Only time could peel away at the layers of false ideas, the years of brain washing. I wasn’t an expert on God, but I couldn’t imagine him not loving every single one of his “children.” That was how I was raised.
“Did I know your mom and Rose are together? Yes.”
“How could you?” she seethed.
Oh, Reese, what the hell did they do to you?
“How could I what?” I planted my hands on my hips, eyeing her carefully.
“Not tell me!”
“Rory’s personal life is not mine to share.”
“Rory’s personal life? Are you kidding me? She’s my mom!”
“Your point?”
“I walked in on them. In the shower. My mom and her girlfriend. The friend who just happened to be in Colorado after having been a ‘client’ of hers in Nebraska. She cheated on my dad. That’s why he divorced her.”
Reality could be a bitch. Reese needed to deal with that bitch. That was what adults did. They swallowed the fucking truth and learned to deal with it.
“Is that why you’re losing your mind? Because you think your mom cheated on your dad? Or are you upset because Rory is a ‘lesbian, homosexual, gay?’ Because I’m not sure why you’re freaking the fuck out about this.”
“You should have told me.”
“And what would you have done? How would you have reacted? Like this? I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but your dad died, and that’s terrible. Your mom went to prison … also terrible. But that’s in the past. If you want to be a grown-ass adult, then start acting like one.”
“I’m so tired of the age card.” She shoved my chest. I wanted to grab her and hug all the ugly from her. I wanted to cleanse her of the lies. The pain. The anger.
“Just because you don’t understand my feelings doesn’t make it my fault—a product of my age. Nobody likes being lied to.”
“Nobody lied.”
“Omission of the truth is deceptive … a lie.”
Her youth bled through her words. It wasn’t her fault. She had so many seeds planted in that head of hers.
“So have we been lying to Rory about us?”
“There is no us.” Her anger grew, jaw clenched.
I nodded slowly. “We might choose who we’re with, but we don’t choose who we love.”
“Are you making excuses for her?”
“What if I’m making excuses for us? Would that be okay with you? Would it be okay because we’re not gay?”
She clenched her jaw. “That’s not it.”
“You continue to tell yourself that.”
She shook her head nonstop, drowning in denial.
“Then why are you one blink away from falling apart? Because you’re ashamed of her sins?” I air quoted. “Or because you need it to be wrong? If you let it be okay, you’ll have to question everything that those people put into your head. You’ll have to look within to find your truth. And then what will you be? Lost? Isn’t that the point? Bring the lost to God and they will be found?”
“She cheated on my dad.” With one blink, she did what I knew she needed to do … she fell apart. A flood of tears raced down her face.
I wanted to throttle every person who distorted her view of love, who twisted something beautiful into something so ugly. “She fell in love.”
Her lower lip trembled. “She was supposed to love him.”
“Well, life never goes like it’s supposed to. So what are you going to do about it?”
“Reese,” Rory appeared around the corner of the garage.
“I’m moving back to Texas. There is nothing for me here.” Reese couldn’t even look at Rory.
“Reese, let me explain.”
“Explain?” She retreated to the corner of the garage, but she couldn’t escape the truth. Not anymore. “No explanation needed. Everything I just saw, and will never be able to erase from my mind, was self-explanatory. The reason Dad divorced you. The reason he didn’t want me to see you. It’s so very clear now.”
“You only know half of it. His half, not mine.”
“I don’t want your half. I don’t want anything from you ever again. The lesson was mine to learn, and I learned it. Dad was right. You’re incredibly selfish, and you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“Reese …” Rory’s eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t talk to your mom like that.” I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. Rory was my friend.
Reese whipped around, her gaze sharp and unforgiving as she eyed me. “You … you out of all people don’t get to tell me how to talk to her. If she knew the things you’ve said to me …” She shook her head and narrowed her eyes even more. “If she only knew …”
“What is she talking about?” Rory asked.
Reese wouldn’t tell her. That much I knew. She had too much pride. And confessing to Rory would have been too much of an admission of her “sins.”
“I’m out. You two figure your shit out. I’m done.” I left them in the garage as I headed inside for a beer or ten.
With no word from Reese, I finally texted her on Saturday.
If you’re not dead, text Rory and tell her you made it safely to Houston. Don’t be a total asshole.
The kid gloves were off. Everything I fed to Reese from that point forward would be real adult shit. That was what she wanted … that was what I was going to give her.
Reese: Go fuck yourself!
I laughed out loud. Her reply made me proud for some strange reason. She was in Texas with her conservative grandparents and texting me to go fuck myself.
Late Sunday afternoon, Rory and I waited on the porch for Reese to arrive. Her idea, not mine.
“Think she’ll ever forgive me?” Rory asked as we drank our beer.
“I don’t think there’s anything to forgive. I think she’ll accept you in her own time. She’s … better than the crap that’s been preached to her for so long.” I shrugged. “She’s too stubborn to see the truth that’s right in front of her.”
“What’s the truth?” Rory rolled her head toward me.
I kept my gaze on the driveway. “She’s better than you and your ex-husband combined. She’s just too scared to walk on her own without the crutch of her past.”
“Amen, brother.”
We both laughed just as Reese pulled up along the side of the street. As she rolled her suitcase toward the porch, Rory perked up. “Hey, how was your trip?”
“It was just overnight, barely a trip, but it was fine.”
“Did they have a nice anniversary party?” Rory continued her attempts to engage Reese in conversation, like their relationship didn’t implode before she left just over twenty-four hours earlier.
Reese nodded. “I’m going to go unpack and do a load of laundry.”
“Need help?” Rory asked.
“I’m good.”
“Have you had dinner?”
Reese shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Rose and I are going for pizza. We’d love for you to come too.”
Reese’s head continued to shake. Her lips turned into a pouty frown. “I’m not hungry. Enjoy your pizza.” She headed toward the basement. After a few steps, she turned, giving Rory a tiny smile. “I don’t know how God feels about you and Rose. I just know that I
’ve felt lost for the past five years. The lie didn’t protect me. And my reaction the other night wasn’t really to Rose … or you and Rose. I know this because I’ve had time to sort through my feelings. It wasn’t Dad. It wasn’t even your arrest that destroyed our family; the fact that you tried to live the wrong life … that’s what destroyed us. And it might take me awhile to come to terms with everything, but I can imagine it must have been painful to find the right person at the worst possible time.”
I wanted her to look at me because I knew she wasn’t just talking about Rory and Rose, but she didn’t look at me.
“Thank you,” Rose whispered.
When Reese disappeared around the corner of the house, I set my beer down and stood, pulling Rory to her feet and hugging her as she wept with relief.
“Told you,” I said.
Rory left.
I sat upstairs letting words, thoughts, and emotions war in my head. Then I headed downstairs, stopping at the door to the porch. Reese watched the sunset with a beer in her hand, music on her phone, and her feet tucked beneath her.
My cruciverbalist.
“I fucked myself,” I said.
She pursed her lips, but she couldn’t completely hide her grin as she took a swig of her beer.
“I’m pretty good.” I sat in the rocker next to her.
“I don’t doubt that.” She rubbed her lips together. “But what do I know? I’m just an asshole.”
“Rory grilled me on what I said to you while she was gone. Thanks for that.”
Reese nodded. “You’re welcome.”
I waited … she had to ask.
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I used a lot of swear words around you.”
“And she believed you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess so.”
She drank more beer. It felt like she was doing it for a reason that didn’t involve a buzz. I felt like she was giving someone the middle finger with that bottle of beer.