All of Me

by Emily Duvall

  I scoot closer to him until our legs to touch. “I would rather forget about all that stuff, but you’re right, I think we should.”

  “You called me out for disappearing from your life after the trial.” Caleb’s eyes continue to look ahead at the dimming skies. “I couldn’t face you, and as time went on, I thought I was making the right choice. Before me, your life was simpler. You just got up and went to work and lived your life.” His face twists to meet my gaze. “I don’t always know what I’m doing. I had this great plan for my life. My routine kept me safe from dealing with the past. Then, you showed up, literally out of nowhere, and my world has been one big spiral throwing me off course. The constant in those moments is my thoughts. They lead me to you. I’m sorry if I didn’t come after you. You deserved that much.”

  I take both his hands in mine. His are firm and strong, mine are soft and warm. They fit together. “I could have tried to talk to you too. I was embarrassed and hurt, but so were you. I see that now. Coming to that conclusion took a while to make.” I lift my lips to his and brush a kiss over his mouth. “I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. I was just as selfish. You were always upfront about the consequences, and I could have said no. Instead, I ignored your concerns. I could have said let’s wait until after the trial to start anything. Half the blame is on me. You’ve been so great, and I’ve been stuck in my world. What have I ever given you?”

  “Purpose,” he says with that husky quality. Caleb’s eyes are smoldering and honest. He lifts a hair off my face. “Like either one of us would have waited. Before the trial, during, after—the timetable doesn’t matter. We have something worth fighting for.”

  Relief spills through me like a floodgate opening. “Only the good kind of fighting.”

  He leans close to me. Our foreheads touch. “I would never jog with anyone else.”

  “Anyone else would annoy me.”

  Caleb laughs. “I believe you.”

  Our hands fall between us, still clasped. “Does that make you my boyfriend?”

  “Yes, but don’t ask me for how long.”

  Smiling, I roll my eyes. “I was going to say I have suggestions on things we can do differently.”

  He stretches his shirt over his head. “Like what?”

  “I want to stay the night at your house more. You have more space.”

  “Done. What else?” His hands land on my hips and he holds me close with aching familiarity.

  “We can make a list later.” I pull his face to mine without hurry and let my lips brush his.

  Before a breath passes my lips, he kisses back. Caleb’s hands slide up my waist and I lean into him. I lean into us and he slips in the words, “I love you.”

  I pull my mouth away. I am speechless. For once, my thoughts are not at overcapacity. Instead, I see his declaration. I love you. Simple, easy, and clear. Later, I will pull out a map and circle this exact spot—the place I first heard these precious words. “I want to say them back,” I say with irrepressible grin.

  “So, say it. Only if you mean it.”

  “I love you.”

  He pulls me into a hug. His arms hold me.

  The evening winds down in a breathtaking pink and we get up and walk. We circle the park five times going slow and catching up. I know we should say goodbye, but I don’t want to.

  Caleb takes my hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You said you wanted to stay over more.”

  Nerves rush straight through my middle. “Now?”

  “Unless you want to go home, in which you’ll still be thinking about me?”

  “I just—this wasn’t planned. But never mind. I’m going with you.”

  We walk faster and break into a jog through the neighborhoods. His house comes into view and the front yard is impeccably mowed, but I don’t care about the state of his shrubs. There’s just one thing I want. Caleb’s furious movements to get the key in the lock tell me he’s thinking the same.

  He pushes the door open and grabs my hand, yanking me inside. The door gets a solid kick from his foot and he pins me against the back of it. His mouth is on mine. My hands fly to his chest. His kiss is strong and fast. His tongue drags over my lips. The sensation drives right through to a single point. Our mouths move together, like we’ve never been apart. Caleb’s hands circle around my back and hitch onto my waist. He pulls me into the next room and onto the couch. We’re…I shut down my thoughts. I open my mouth to his and taste his skin and the time we’ve lost.

  I’m in no hurry to do anything and neither is Caleb. I shower afterwards, and I wear his clothes while mine are in the washing machine. “I’m going to bring my own clothes over,” I say, meeting him in the kitchen. “I don’t like yours. They fall off me.”

  “And that’s a problem?” Caleb offers a conciliatory nod. “Bring whatever you like.”

  “You understand this is for me, not you? A girl needs her stuff nearby. Things like toothbrushes and hairbrushes, and my favorite coconut and sunset body wash. I don’t like the Irish Spring. Smells like a man. Okay for you, not for me.”

  “Any other demands?”

  “Frozen waffles in the freezer.”

  “Noted.” He nods to the kitchen. “Although, you might be surprised to learn I bought them in anticipation of this evening.”

  The waffle thing is sweet. I want to return the favor. “You should put up more pictures of Darcy.”

  His expression steels, but not as much as the last time I brought her up. “What would be the point?”

  “So you don’t forget her.”

  Caleb steadies his hands on the counter. “Maybe, someday soon. I’m getting some help with that, but I need more time with that request.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Take all the time you need.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s okay to say her name.” Caleb loosens his hands from my hips. “What should we do with our night?”

  I shrug. “Let’s watch some T.V.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Not yet.”

  I hang out on the main level while Caleb takes a shower. First & Last is on and I check out if the objects are worth my attention. The host is featuring baseballs, lottery tickets, and candy canes. I sit back on the couch with a glass of water on the table and lose myself in the episode. The neurons fire in my brain at the process and I get excited watching the machines fill the mold with the sugar mixture.

  “What…are you watching?” Caleb says, joining me on the couch. His hair is wet and matted down.

  “First and Last.” I breathe in his scent. Maybe I was wrong about Irish Spring.

  “I never gave much thought to how candy canes are made.”

  I laugh at his gruffness, I’ve come to recognize as his humor. We move closer together and I rest my head against his chest. His hand closes around my arm and his fingers rest against my skin. “I like this,” I say.

  He doesn’t respond, but I don’t get mad at him like people do when I don’t say anything.

  I twist my posture and reconfigure how I’m sitting. I want to see his face. “Can we talk?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “This is nice and all…”

  “But?”

  “How’d you know I was going to say that?”

  “You’re a woman, there’s always a ‘but.’ Please, keep going.”

  “I heard you’ve been going to group with Doctor Randi.”

  He glances at me with caution. “Yup.”

  “Those meetings are so boring.”

  Caleb laughs from his gut. “You think so?”

  “Yes,” I say with a huff. “I’ve stopped going to my Tuesday night group. I just felt like focusing on my differences was getting to be a bit much. I just want to be comfortable being me.”

  “I would like to keep going to mine, but I’ll support what you think is best for you.”

  “Where do we go from here? What if we fight? What if yo
u decide you don’t like me? Or I wake up one morning and I don’t like you? How do you know if this is forever? Do we stay at my place or yours, and if so, do we need a schedule?”

  “Maren,” he interrupts, grabbing my hand.

  I keep going. “My parents have been together for almost forty years, 14,600 days. Holy shit that’s a lot of time to spend playing games and watching television and having sex.”

  “We will figure it out,” he assures me. “I promise.”

  Two Years Later

  Maren

  Ten different maps are spread out on the counter. I look over them and enjoy the sight of roads and monuments and area attractions. Horns honk in the background. The streets of New York are louder than the noise in my head, like a soundtrack someone pressed play to years ago and never pressed stop.

  Unpacked moving boxes are stacked in the corner. My job for the morning is to go through the ones in the kitchen. I’ve come up with a system for where to put items together, utilizing optimal shelf space. The maps are more interesting. I cannot wait to be on the streets and figure out how the grids connect.

  New York wasn’t in my plans. I never saw myself moving away from my beloved apartment. I resisted the idea deeply at first, the strain affected my relationship with Caleb for a couple of weeks, but I came around, after a visit to the big city. Caleb’s job is important to both of us because what he needs is as important as my needs.

  Now that we are moved and getting closer to being settled, I feel embarrassed at how hard I clung to the idea of staying put. The law firm he’s working for is bigger than Hockley & Lyon and what he calls his ‘Dream Job,’ working with the high-end clients in all sorts of trouble related to fraud and illicit scandals.

  I get up and go over to the windows. They’re long and old. They go with the hardwood floors. I look out at the street below. Cars are moving. Trees look smaller. Arlington seems like a small town from where I stand. We bought a condo three times the size of my old one and we live on the thirty-seventh floor of a building that has eighty floors. There’s even a doorman and a plush lounge in the building lobby and everyone is out at all hours.

  I look at the door leading to the master suit. Any second, Caleb will come out from his shower and put his arms around me and we’ll look out the window together.

  There’s a knock at my door. I smile and rush to open it. Libby enters with a hug and a squeal. “I still haven’t gotten used to this,” she says, holding up a paper bag. “I brought some goodies. Muffins and cupcakes.”

  “I’ll take one of each.”

  She sets the bag down and walks around. “This place is starting to look like home. I can’t get over how spacious and beautiful the space is or how you’re here and we’re going to be in the city together.”

  “Two blocks away from each other,” I remind her.

  The distance is perfect for both our lifestyles, Caleb and I agree we need time without Libby. Time that is sacred for just us.

  “Cute sweater,” Libby says, making her way to the kitchen.

  I am becoming more adept and growing confident in my style. Turns out, I’m not alone in this. This city is a mecca for fashion and I found an evening class near my office that has instructors offering courses on style. Sometimes, I ask Libby for help, or I ask Caleb, if we’re attending a function for his work.

  I won’t pretend that life is easy for us all the time. We have a stretch of months where our communication issues are non-existent, and my quirks aren’t noticeable. The move disrupted all of that. The anxiety has gotten worse. There’s been more meltdowns, more time spent reminding myself to breathe. I’ve done better at controlling these, going to a private space and coming out when I’m calm. I’m glad Libby’s around to bring me back to my center.

  “Here you go,” Libby says, taking a seat at the counter. She peels the wrapper off her muffin and picks at the top. “How was the orientation?” she says.

  “It went fine. I met my new officemate. She seems nice.” I take a bite of the moist, chocolate muffin. “I wish she was Charlotte though.”

  “New people. New city. Right?”

  “Right. What do you want to do this weekend?”

  “I’d like to get some shots of Central Park with the fall leaves. Have you seen the color out there? Amazing.”

  Libby’s been taking a photography course and has been spending her time practicing her newfound art. “Sounds like fun. Do you want Caleb to join?”

  “Of course.”

  “It sounds like you ladies are filling up my schedule,” he says, emerging from the bedroom decked out in a navy suit with a pale blue shirt beneath. He literally takes my breath away. All I am thinking about is how perfect he feels inside of me. I clear my throat and hope I’m not blushing. “We are,” I say.

  His gaze travels to the baked goods. “I like this arrangement. Libby bringing over breakfast every morning.” He picks at the box with an irritated expression. “Did you forget the coffee?”

  She points behind him. “Don’t get used to this.”

  Caleb turns and grabs the cup, he takes a prolonged sniff of the caffeine. “What did you sign me up for?”

  Smiling graciously, I answer. “Checking out Central Park on Saturday morning. Libby wants to take photographs.”

  She wipes her hands and stands. “Maybe I can get some of the two of you together.”

  “You can just take them of Caleb, I don’t like being in pictures.”

  Libby smiles. “I think you’ll like these. We can figure it out later.” She checks her phone. “I have to get moving.” She squeezes my shoulder and grabs her purse. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She’s out the door and on the way to her job.

  “You ready to go?” Caleb says. Yesterday, we had walked to work together, and last night while we were in bed, he asked if I would go with him again this morning.

  “Sure.” It’s a chance for me to use the new app on my phone called Walk-Around. The screen comes to life with this map and a pair of shoes. The shoes show the direction I’m traveling and the names of the streets, restaurants, and businesses. If I turn slight right it adjusts based on my every movement.

  “Save the app for after you drop me off,” Caleb says.

  I look up at him. “How’d you know what I was thinking?”

  “I just do.”

  He downs his cup of coffee and goes back to the bathroom to brush his teeth. We lock up and head down in the elevators to the street level. The doorman, Will, opens the door and wishes us a good morning.

  The noise of the street is magnified outside, I’m getting better at tolerating the sounds. A breeze rustles the leaves around us and Libby’s right, they explode with orange, yellow, and red, like gemstones set against the gray buildings. There are so many colors in the advertisements up above. There is so much to take in. Caleb’s hand finds mine as I button up my jacket. Soon it’ll be scarf and hat weather, but not on this gorgeous fall morning with a blue sky and skyscrapers and people surrounding us.

  “Mind if we check out Central Park on the way to work?” he says. “I found a way that cuts straight to my office.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  We curve around, bending with the sidewalks, finding our way. Leaves are everywhere, they clutter around the park benches and lampposts. Dog walkers are out and about, along with people rushing off to work. I feel a pulse beneath my skin, that hums in time to this place. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Caleb stops walking. A group of black birds scatter from our steps. “Maren,” he says my name as seriously as the day we first met.

  Oh. How I love that day. I reach up and cradle my hand against his jaw. “We have to keep going if we’re going to make it on time.”

  “I took the morning off.”

  My eyebrows crease together. “Why?”

  “I’ve been thinking about something lately.”

  “About work?”

  “About us.”

  “We’ve been living t
ogether for twelve months and three days. We’re here together.” A bit of panic rises in my throat. I cup his face in my hands. “You know how much I love you.”

  “Yes, but, right now, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. We’re roommates, really. I don’t like the sound of that anymore.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I want to marry you, Maren. I have wanted this for some time. But this? Us? Here?” He runs his hand through my hair. “This is good.”

  I am no longer clueless in matters of the heart. I don’t always read Caleb right and I still stumble through social situations. But what I do know is what it means to look at someone and feel a fullness in my heart that isn’t there with anyone else. Not even with my parents or Libby.

  He drops to one knee and pulls a black box out of his jacket pocket. “Marry me.”

  “Caleb Allan,” I say with a smile and lean to inspect the diamond, but really, to be closer to him. Tears fall from my eyes and splash on his hand. “I think that’s a very good idea.” I pull him to his feet and he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me thoroughly.

  Leaves rush around our feet. Caleb lifts his mouth, remaining close. “How do you feel about becoming Maren Allan?”

  I reach up to touch his jaw. “Oh no. Maren Cole is my name. I don’t want to change that.”

  He holds the ring out to me. “This belongs to you. I don’t care what your last name is, so long as you say yes.”

  I lower my hand to his. “Yes, times a thousand.”

  Acknowledgements

  Writing this book was a project of passion. This is for the mothers and fathers, the siblings, and family and friends who aren’t sure what the future holds for your dear one on the spectrum. Each of your struggles are different, but each of your stories have beautiful threads that are similar in a way that only you understand. Sometimes they are heartbreaking, and sometimes, they are exceptional. For the moms in particular, you are brave on both the good days and on the bad. And for all those times on the playground when you went home and cried afterwards, may you continue to love fiercely. You are not alone.