by Shelly Crane
I leaned in and brushed on mascara and some blush. She turned me to her and I mirrored her mouth as an 'o' as she put on my lipgloss. She cried again and didn't even wipe her face, just rushed me out my bedroom door and down the stairs.
She took a couple pictures, but I finally waved her off and begged her to stop. My cell phone rang in the little black clutch around my wrist. I frowned and pulled it out. She must have put it in there, because I didn't even have anyone to call me anymore. I answered. It was Mrs. Betty and she was pretty upset. "I just thought you should know, child."
"Should know what?" My first thought was Mason was hurt, but why would Mrs. Betty call me if that were the case? "Mrs. Betty?"
"Mason was fired today."
Useless Fact Number Seventeen
Apples are more efficient at waking you up than caffeine.
My breath stopped. "What? What for?" I turned to glare at my mother as she came back in. How could she? "You called and got Mason fired?" I yelled at her. "I thought that we-"
"No, it wasn't her, or your father," Betty corrected. "The doctor found a note in Mason's pocket..." my heart skipped a beat, "...from you. So they fired him for fraternization and misconduct."
Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. This couldn't be happening. He got fired because of me? I slammed the phone back into my purse and started out the door.
"Wait!" I heard behind me. "I'll drive you."
I didn't wait to see why she was driving me or how she knew where we were even going, but I followed her out the door. We didn't make it to her car. Mason was there on the curb, his back to us as he leaned on his car. She clutched her purse and smiled at me as she turned to go back. "I am so confused-"
"Just go. We'll talk later," she assured. She reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Everything happens for a reason. I want you to remember that."
I wanted to say more, but I stepped out in the driveway. "Mason," I called softly, but he heard. He heard and stiffened. He didn't turn. That didn't give me any encouragement, but I stepped toward him anyway. "Mason, I'm sorry."
He turned and blew his breath out, looking at me up and down. "God, help me." His face solemn, he turned and came up the curb slowly. "You're just as beautiful in my dreams, Em, because I have to be dreaming right now."
I didn't know what he meant, but it didn't matter. "I'm so sorry that you got fired for me." Wait. "Or," I shook my head in frustration, "because of me."
"Because of you..." He licked his lips and shook his head, taking another step toward me. "How did you even know what happened?" He looked back at my arms and shoulders. "And why are you dressed like an angel?"
I looked down at myself and couldn't help but smile. "Oh, sorry. It's prom tonight..." I gulped at the look on his face. "Mrs. Betty called me and I'm so sorry."
He smiled sweetly. "You're sorry that I carried your note around with me every were I went and some jerk found it who'd been looking for any reason to fire me for months?"
"But I thought...that I left it in your pocket and..."
"No," he corrected and took the last step between us. "No, Emma, I put that note in my pocket on purpose. Just like I have every day since you gave it to me."
"But I thought you hated me-"
His hand moved swiftly toward my face, but I wasn't scared. I didn't flinch as he gripped the back of my neck and pulled us together all the way up and down. "Don't ever, ever say that again." His breath coasted across my face. "I don't hate you—why would I?"
"Because I left," I said lamely.
"I lied to you, Emma. I knew you'd leave."
"You didn't lie," I reasoned. "You omitted. And you were right. If I had woken up, knowing that the reason I was there, the very reason that I couldn't remember anything, was because of some stupid thing I did. Some completely stupid and pointless thing... As my therapists, I'm glad that you didn't tell me. I've had a really hard time forgiving her." He wiped under my eye and looked like he wanted to say something, but I went on. "I hated that I couldn't have a clean slate with you. I didn't want you to know her, but now I see that it wasn't her fault. She wanted to be different, and I'm not sure if she was strong enough to pull it off or not, but I am." I closed my eyes as he caressed my cheek with his fingers.
"Yes, you are." He lifted my chin and I waited to open my eyes, savoring his touch and how calm and connected we were in the dark in my front yard. I opened them and waited. "I've never met anyone who recovered as quickly, who was so determined to be a better person, who believed as hard and as wide open as you."
The wind blew his hair as I stared at his face. It was cool and I felt it waft over my bare shoulders and blow my gown around my feet. His hair fell across his forehead and I saw my hand move to fix it for him. He closed his eyes. "You just wanted to tell me that you're sorry I got canned?" He opened them and I knew everything was about to come to a head.
"No," I whispered and toyed with the button if his shirt. "I missed you."
"I was giving you space," he explained in a rumble. "I wanted to come and beg you to forgive me every second since you left, but I wanted you to come back because you wanted to. Because you wanted to be with me, and if you didn't, then I would have to deal with that. I would just spend forever remembering what it was like to be in love with this amazing girl."
I heard it, I did, but I couldn't dwell on that. I was too busy damming the tears back and feeling guilty. "Baby, what's the matter?" he asked, looking completely confused as he rubbed my arm in his warm palm.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's my fault you got fired. How are you going to take care of your mom, now? I'm not worth that!" I insisted. "I'm sorry."
"Stop right there." He gripped my upper arms firmly. "You are worth it, number one. Number two, I have the shop and always did well with it. It's what I wanted to do anyway."
"Then why were you working at the hospice? I know you said you got into it because of your mom, but..."
"I did, but I planned to quit and open the shop full-time. But...then you happened."
I threw my arms up, dislodging his hands. "So I'm to blame for that, too! First I ruin your chance to work at the shop like you wanted and now I get you fired."
He smiled. I glared back at him as he came and took my arms again. "That's the shakiest, most self-deprecating argument I've ever heard. You're just looking for any reason to take the blame for everything, aren't you?'
I squinted and looked away. "Maybe."
He pulled my face back to him, something I was getting very accustomed to. "You can't take the blame for my choices. I chose to keep working there to take care of you and I chose to carry the note you wrote me because I missed you. And now, I get to open my shop back up full-time and nothing would make me happier. They did me a favor by firing me. That jerk who runs the place hated me anyway."
"Well...I'm still sorry. I just..." I huffed. This was it. The conversation had run out, the stalling was done, the topic, shifting.
He instigated. "I can't believe you're here with me right now," he said in a low voice. "I thought you were gone forever."
"I was afraid that after everything you'd done for me, you'd think I was ungrateful and spoiled."
"Emma-" he complained.
"One minute, I feel so old and outdated because of everything I lost, and then the next, I feel young, naive, and stupid." He sighed guiltily. "But I don't feel that way when I'm with you. I don't feel like I have to find the balance, I just feel like me." He nodded and squinted a little. It was so cute. "What are you doing here, Mason?" I ask, not unkindly.
"Ruining your Prom, apparently," he answered wryly. I half smiled. "I couldn't go another night without knowing if you hated me or not. Good or bad, I had to know. And I'll tell you this," he knelt in the grass in front of me, "I'm sorry, Emma. You'll just never understand how sorry I am. Sometimes I just feel like I have to take care of things, even when it's none of my business. I've taken care of things for so long with my family, and when I didn't,
awful things happened. I'm sorry that I overstepped-"
"I forgive you," I made sure to say loudly. He just stared at me. "If you'll forgive me."
"No," he said and twisted his lips. "You didn't do anything wrong so there's nothing to forgive."
"I still feel guilty," I muttered. He stood and lifted my chin once more.
"Don't," he begged. "Please. Would it be all right if I kissed you? Because these past few days, I thought you'd never speak to me again, let alone let me kiss you again."
"I'm not really sure what kept me away," I said truthfully. "I wasn't really mad, I guess I just...didn't want you to see the old me. She feels like something that I have to reconcile or apologize for. I hated her, and for you to tell me that there was a chance that she maybe wasn't so bad, made me question everything, every decision I've made. Except you."
His eyebrows lifted, his brow bunched. I wanted to kiss the spot there. He spoke softly, rubbing my cheek. "I can't wait for the day that you figure out that you and she are one in the same. That you don't have to compartmentalize your life. That there's bad and good in everyone and we choose who we want to be. You are not your past, you are your future." He moved achingly slow to kiss my top lip. "If the angel before me is having doubts about the goodness of her soul, what hope is there for the rest of us?"
A small chuckle fell from my lips. I shook my head and gave him a look that said, Kiss me, like, yesterday.
He pulled me up to meet him and we both groaned when our tongues collided. I'd more than missed him, I needed him. It wasn't a dependency, it wasn't weakness or a failure, he was an addition to my very soul. And I laughed into our kiss as I realized that this was what love was. I could live without him, of course I could, and I could function and get on with my days if he wasn't here, but I didn't want to. I wanted him right where he was, in my space and in my life.
His hands tugging and pulling at my hips brought me back to earth. My arms were wound around his neck, my elbows on his shoulders, and he plundered my mouth with not a care but to feel me against him.
It was then I realized that I had been going about my new life completely the wrong way. The things we should focus on in any life shouldn't be what we've lost, but what we've gained.
When his hands shifted, one coming up to wrap around my waist, and the other going lower to pull me against him, I gasped into his mouth. He pulled back a little, keeping his hand where it was, and said, "Sorry, but gah, woman, that hiney is amazing in this dress."
We laughed against each other's lips. "Well," I said coyly. "Hiney."
"Yeah," he started and squeezed again, "I thought your jeans were going to kill me, and then you come out in this dress... OK, we've got to stop talking about this."
I pushed his chest. "Shut up."
He smiled, staring at my face. "Your gorgeousness is wasted on me tonight." He looked down at his jeans. "Did someone ask you to Prom?"
"No, except Andy." His jaw clenched a little. "I was going by myself, but I don't want to go now."
"It's on your list, isn't it?" I scowled at his perceptiveness. "Number four. You're going." I opened my mouth to protest and he covered my lips with his thumb. "Emma Walker, will you go to Prom with me?"
I pulled his hand down. "You do not want to go to Prom, Mason."
"Sure I do," he said with a smile. "I never went to mine. I thought it was lame and I was too cool."
"Really?" I said, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Really. Will you go with me?"
I felt my heart melt a little more. "Mason."
"I can help." We turned to find Mom on the porch. "Come on, Mason. The girl got all dolled up to go and you need to get up to speed, boy.
She beckoned him to her, flicking her wrist in urgency. He looked at me, as if in permission.
"Your call," I said, thinking he'd back out and I'd get to as well, but he smiled at me and took off in a sprint. I watched them go inside in a hurry and made my way inside. In six minutes flat, Mason and Mom came through the den. Mason must've been wearing one of my dad's tuxes. She had her arm in his and looked at him proudly. I could have kissed her.
He looked down at himself and shrugged bashfully. "Fits pretty good," he said modestly.
"You look good," I told him and smoothed the front with my fingers. "Really good."
"No time for that," Mom insisted. "You're already late. But wait, let me get some pictures."
I thought Mason would moan and complain, but he came right up behind me and put an arm around my waist. He leaned in, brushing his face against my hair. "You smell amazing. Like, seriously amazing."
I turned my face to let his nose rub my cheek. "Mason, let's just stay here," I told him breathlessly.
He chuckled, huskily and dangerously. "Oh, no, absolutely not. I'm not to be trusted with you alone right now."
I sank into his chest as Mom got the camera and pretended she couldn't hear or get what was going on.
"Smile, Emma," she said softly and we stared at each other. And I did smile because for the first time in a long time, I felt normal. She only took one picture and then came to hug me to her. "Oh, Emmie. Emma." She leaned back and cupped my cheek. "I never lost you, Emma." I felt my brow bunch in confusion. "You were always here. You've always been you. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that."
I shook my head, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. "It was me, not you. I understand now."
She smiled and then turned to Mason. Her smile changed just a bit. "I don't have to explain that I will hunt you down and chop your-"
"No, ma'am. I get it," he said quickly. I chuckled and bit my lip. "I'll have her back by midnight," he said gentlemanly.
"I trust you," she told him and winked at me. "It's Prom. Stay out as late as you want, but text me, Emmie."
"Ok," I told her. The old me probably loved having such a lax mother. "I will."
"Here," she said and scrambled to her purse, pulling the keys out. "Take the Rover."
"No," I said and softened my tone. "We're fine," I insisted. "I want to take the beater."
Mason chuckled a little. "Beater," he repeated.
"It's a term of endearment," I assured him. "I love your car."
"If that's what you want."
"It is. I want complete normalcy."
"OK," he said and grinned, swinging his arm out. "Your chariot awaits."
He opened my door for me and I knew that it wasn't just for show for my mom. He was just that way. We drove the short distance to the school and he once again came to open my door.
We could hear the chatter of teenagers and the thump of music from the car. "Ready?"
I took his hand. "Yeah."
He smiled. "Number four, here we come."
I laughed and let him lead me all the way to the doors. It was everything I imagined a cliché, cheesy high school event to be when he opened the gym doors. The clutch around my wrist banged against my arm as we stopped and stared. "Wow," I said and looked around. "It's so..."
"Mysterious?" He leaned closer and spoke against my ear since it was so loud in the room. "Magical? Enchanting? Fantastical?"
"None of the above," I laughed out the words. "Oh, my..." I looked up at him, so close. "Want to get out of here?"
He laughed. "Absolutely."
In the parking lot, we stopped before getting in the car. I leaned against it and he leaned with me. "Well, that was a waste."
"Nah, it wasn't," he insisted and looked down at my dress. "It's never a mistake for you to look this beautiful. I'm not ready to take you home yet."
"Well," I said coyly and gripped the front of his tux. "I can cross number four off now."
"So let's make a number five." His smile was causing me difficulties. "Come on. Get in."
"Where are we going?"
He moved slowly until he was taking up all of my personal space. I leaned against the car door because I had to. "I'm gonna take you to all sorts of cheesy places to fill your list. And when you feel n
ormal enough for tonight, I'm going to go somewhere and kiss you until you can't think or move or breathe."
My breaths caught. I whispered in a stupor, "We can skip to that part."
His grin was smug. "No. I want you to feel like your life was complete and your memories intact with everything that you wanted to do. Tonight is all about you, Em. Whatever you say goes. So, where we going first?"
I bit into my bottom lip and tried to think. He gripped my chin and tugged with his thumb and I looked up into his hazel eyes as he owned my very being. "Surprise me."
He accepted the challenge with a tilt of his head and a nod. I pulled his collar and shivered from more than the chill in the air. He wrapped me in his warm arms and rubbed my bare arms as he pulled back. "Cold?"
I shook my head 'no'. "I'm just affected."
He started to laugh, but we both looked toward a car door a couple rows over. I felt Mason stiffen and felt my own fingers grip his lapel tighter without my permission as Andy glared at us. He was alone.
"Look at you," he said angrily, but his eyes took me in, head to toe. Mason turned and stepped in front of me. "So beautiful. In that cream dress...that matches my tux so perfectly."
"Stop talking to Isabella about things that aren't true," I said harshly. "I never said we were going together."
"You belong to me," he said low, but we heard. He glared. "You may not remember, but you were mine and it's not fair that you just-"
"We broke up," I said loudly. "Before the accident, we broke up."
His eyes squinted. "No...we didn't."
"Yes, we did!" Mason stood still as my shield and I gripped his hand. "I know all about the night of my accident."
His eyes widened, wider than I'd ever seen them. "All about it, huh?"
I didn't nod. I didn't acknowledge him. He just turned around, got in his car, and left with his tires squealing on the pavement. Mason turned and tried to hide his scowl. "You OK?"
