Just Like This

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Just Like This Page 5

by Rebecca Gallo


  “Are you going to stay and have dinner with me tonight?”

  My heart fell. I knew that he was incredibly lonely in this hospital room even though Valerie and I took turns visiting him every day. “Sorry, Dad. I kind of have plans tonight.”

  “With Palmer? Are things heating up between you two now that he’s back for good?”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “No, there’s nothing between us.”

  “Why not? Palmer’s a good guy.”

  I rolled my eyes because I hated having these awkward conversations with him. No matter how old I was, talking to my dad about boys wasn’t high on my list of enjoyable things. “He is a good guy, one of the best. But he’s like my brother. We grew up together. I can’t imagine him like that … romantically.”

  “I just want to know that you’re taken care of, Cami. I don’t know how much time”

  “Dad, stop. Don’t even say it.”

  My dad patted the space next to him, and I scooted my chair closer. He held out his hand to me, and I grasped it tightly. “I don’t want to upset you, Cami, but there is a possibility that I might not be around to walk you down the aisle.”

  Silence surrounded us as he comforted me in the way that only he could. I leaned forward and placed my head on his lap, and soon, he began to stroke my hair as he had done so many times before when I was younger. Quietly, he hummed a song that I didn’t recognize, but it didn’t really matter. I knew he was right and that this was one of the last moments that I was going to get with him.

  After a moment, he cleared his throat and asked quietly, “So, are you going to tell me who he is if it’s not Palmer?”

  “What are you talking about?” Surprised, my head popped up, and I saw a mischievous smirk on my father’s lips. When he thought I was hiding something from him, he was relentless.

  “The look on your face a moment ago. It was happiness. I used to get that same look on my face when I thought about your mother.”

  My smiled dissolved into a scowl, and my good mood faded. “Let’s not talk about her.”

  My dad tilted his head to the side and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Just because she left doesn’t mean my feelings for her changed. I loved her. She was it for me.”

  I looked away because anger bubbled up inside me. My mother had left after I turned eighteen. She’d claimed now that her daughters were grown, she needed to live her own life. The last time we heard from her was in the form of divorce papers she’d sent a year later.

  “So, who is he?” Clearly, my father wasn’t going to give up until I caved and told him everything.

  “A friend of Palmer’s. They served together.”

  “You can’t go wrong with a man in uniform,” my dad said with a playful wink. I burst out laughing, which cut through the tension.

  “We’re going to see Coldplay tonight.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m nervous but excited too. I mean, a bunch of other people are going too but …”

  “You can’t wait to see him? To be near him?”

  “Yes,” I answered with a sigh. The depth of how well my dad knew me and how close we were hit me. Fresh tears burned their way down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped them away before he noticed.

  “I’m happy for you, Camille.”

  I spent the rest of the day with him, talking about nothing of great importance. Deep down, I was preparing for the end, for when he would be gone. These moments would carry me through my grief. I swiped at the tears stinging my eyes with my free hand. “I have to go,” I said suddenly.

  “I’m sorry that I upset you.” My dad knew I was running but didn’t force the issue. This conversation was tabled for another day.

  “I’ll be fine,” I told him before leaning across to kiss his cheek. “I’ll come for breakfast. Do you want me to bring you anything special?”

  He shook his head. His appetite was non-existent, which worried me. I knew it was a side effect of his treatment, but not getting enough nutrition in him would have side effects too.

  I blew him a kiss as I left, but I couldn’t shake my melancholy mood. Not even the prospect of seeing Garrett tonight lifted my spirits.

  When I arrived home, I found Valerie sitting in the family room watching television. I hadn’t bothered to mention the argument between Garrett and Palmer the other night or that things between Garrett and I were heating up. She seemed preoccupied lately, and I didn’t want to bother her. Instead, I focused on getting ready.

  My mood hadn’t lightened by the time Garrett picked me up. In fact, it was probably darker because all I’d done while I waited for him was consider the future. Major life events flashed before my eyes—getting engaged, getting married, having my first child—and the warm presence of my father was absent from every single one. It was hard to imagine the rest of my life without him.

  The sight of Garrett, dressed so casually in jeans and a faded T-shirt, brought the dormant butterflies in my stomach back to life. His sable brown hair was thick and neatly styled, but in need of a trim, and his beard was fuller now since his return from active duty. My fingers itched to touch it.

  “Hey,” he greeted me shyly when I opened the door. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yep,” I nodded, grabbing my small cross-body purse off the console table in the foyer. “Nice wheels,” I said, pointing at the SUV parked in my driveway.

  “It’s a rental. I couldn’t have Palmer driving me around the entire time.”

  “Don’t you own a car or rent an apartment or something?” I was curious because I wanted to know everything about him. Where did he live when he wasn’t deployed? Where are his things? Everyone had a home, and I wanted to see Garrett’s so I could learn about his life.

  Garrett shrugged as he opened the passenger door. I scooted into the seat, and he had the seat belt in his hand, ready for me. I took it from him, and our fingers brushed against each other. I knew this game well. He was doing anything to touch me in the most subtle of ways. Eventually, it was going to drive me crazy, which was exactly what he wanted.

  “I had an apartment,” he said once he was seated in the driver’s seat. “But then I got deployed for a year. Since I’m only on leave for thirty days, I didn’t see the point of finding someplace temporary.”

  “But what about all of your stuff? Clothes, furniture, personal belongings?”

  “I’m kind of a nomad.” That was all the explanation he offered, but my persistent look told him that he wasn’t getting off so easily. “Everything is in storage. I like to travel when I’m on leave, so I don’t own much anyway. I’d rather spend money ticking off items on my bucket list.”

  “What’s on your list?” I prompted him.

  We delved into a conversation about all of the places that he’s visited and how he wanted to learn about wine production in other countries. I confessed that the only other country I had been to was Canada.

  Silence settled between us as we drove up to Seattle. He told me that Palmer, Nikki, and Jackson would meet us at the stadium, but I didn’t really hear him because my mind was back with my father and the conversation we had this morning. I didn’t want to seem like my head was buried in the sand, but the thought of living the rest of my life without him hadn’t crossed my mind. People were diagnosed with cancer and survived all of the time. Why was my father any different? I was so confident that he would beat this disease, and now I was faced with the truth; it was beating him.

  “Is something bothering you?” His question broke the silence, and I shifted nervously.

  I sighed before responding. “No. Yes … I don’t exactly want to talk about it.”

  “Fair enough, but you should know that I’m an excellent listener.” Momentarily, he turned toward me and gave me the brightest smile.

  I wanted to open my heart and tell him everything. His brown eyes were so warm and inviting, and his broad smile made me tingle from head to toe. Impulsively, I reached up and placed my h
and against his cheek, which only made his smile brighter. I felt my own cheeks lifting to return it.

  “Please,” he begged quietly. “Tell me.”

  “I saw my father today.” My heart felt heavy, and my words felt thick with emotion.

  “Palmer said he’s sick?”

  I blinked and sucked in a sharp breath. “Cancer. He recently had surgery to remove a tumor and started chemotherapy.”

  “It’s not working?”

  I shrugged. “We don’t really know yet. But I don’t want to think about a world where he doesn’t exist and today …”

  I started to scoot closer toward the car door, but Garrett reached out and grabbed one of my hands. He tugged my hand and whispered, “Tell me.”

  “Today, he said that he might not be around when I get married.”

  A sob suddenly escaped from my lips, and I let go of Garrett’s hand to bury my face in my hands.

  “That must have been difficult for you to hear,” he said quietly.

  “I know that I need to prepare myself, but that means accepting he’s going to die. And I’m not ready to do that.”

  “I know how you feel. I lost my mother when I was eighteen. She was sick for a long time, and I couldn’t handle it. So I ran away and joined the Army.”

  His honest confession was shocking. I never expected him to share something so personal with me so quickly.

  “Sometimes I wish I could run away,” I murmured.

  “You look fantastic,” Palmer said, greeting me as Garrett and I made our way to the section of the stadium where our seats were located. I glanced down at my outfit out of habit. I felt comfortable but sexy and confident in white denim cutoffs and an oversized T-shirt that exposed one shoulder.

  “Thank you,” I replied, dropping Garrett’s hand to hug Palmer lightly before shuffling to greet Jackson next.

  Nikki took notice of our arrival and perked up, adjusting her hair and clothes. She stepped in front of me and squealed Garrett’s name before throwing her arms around him. More like throwing herself at him, I thought.

  “I’m so happy that you finally made it!” she gushed. She used her body to push me out of the way, and I shot her a nasty look, which didn’t seem to bother her.

  “Did you see your dad today?” Palmer asked me while I did my best to ignore Nikki, who was now monopolizing Garrett’s attention.

  “Yes,” I told him. “But I don’t really want to talk about it, okay? I want to have a good time tonight.”

  “I understand. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” Both of our eyes flicked toward Nikki and Garrett. Even though Garrett and I had come together, seeing Nikki sink her claws into him set my insecurities ablaze. But I wasn’t going to play the jealousy game because that was what a girl like Nikki wanted. Her kind preyed on girls like me; she’d wait until I was weak or distracted and then claim Garrett for herself. That wasn’t going to happen, but I also didn’t have to stick around and watch her flaunt herself right in front of my face. I excused myself and headed toward the bathroom.

  I should have known Garrett wasn’t going to let me get away so easily. “Wait,” he said, grabbing onto my hand. “Where are you going?”

  “To the bathroom,” I informed him. Then with one glance at Nikki, who was watching us like a hawk, I added, “and maybe to get a large drink filled with alcohol.”

  “I’ll come with you,” he insisted.

  He held my hand tightly as we headed toward the concourse where all of the concession stands were set up. I glanced up at him to see that his jaw was set, and his eyes kept shifting around, watching everyone around us. We stopped just outside the women’s bathroom, and I had to shake our hands to get his attention.

  “What?” he asked, confused. I pointed toward the bathroom, and he nodded. “Okay, I’ll wait here.”

  I walked into the bathroom, confused. Was he really that nervous to be with me? When I returned, he reclaimed his white-knuckle grip on my hand.

  “Are you nervous or something?” I asked as we stood in line to buy drinks.

  “First date jitters get me every time,” he assured me, but I didn’t think that was actually true. When we got our drinks, he practically gulped down his beer.

  “Do I really make you that nervous, or is there something else?”

  “Honestly, I don’t really like crowds. I’m sorry,” he said with a thin smile. It was easy to understand why crowds made him nervous. Being so close to Ft. Lewis, plenty of my friends from high school served in the military and returned with some degree of post-traumatic stress disorder. If Garrett suffered from PTSD, then being at a concert might make him anxious.

  I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek lightly. “Don’t worry. I’m here,” I whispered in his ear. It was unlike me to be bold like that, but I wanted to reassure him somehow, to lessen his anxiety over being in a stadium filled with strangers. His hold on my hand was significantly lighter as we walked back to our seats.

  “Where have you guys been?” Nikki whined. “The first act is about to start! Garrett, you have to sit next to me.”

  Garrett didn’t have the chance to protest because as soon as Nikki placed herself between us, she bumped into me, sending icy cold margarita down my front.

  “Shit!” I screamed, holding my arms wide. “That’s fucking cold!”

  Horrified, I looked up to see Garrett ready to come to my rescue, and Nikki, who didn’t look a damn bit sorry even though she said the words. I swallowed every curse word and insult that bubbled up because it wouldn’t help the situation.

  “Are you okay?” Garrett asked, concern etched all over his face. He thrust a wad of napkins into my hand that I used to wipe down my neck and chest.

  “I’ll be wet for pretty much the entire concert, but I’m fine.”

  “Come with me,” he said, taking me by the arm and leading me down the row and out of our section.

  I followed Garrett onto the concourse and over to the nearest merchandise booth. The line was unexpectedly short despite the first opening act getting ready to take the stage.

  “Pick one,” Garrett insisted, pointing toward the display of T-shirts. He started to reach into his pocket and pull out his wallet, but I held out a hand and stopped him.

  “You don’t have to. It’ll be fine.” He bought me a T-shirt anyway and held it out to me with a nervous smile. I accepted it before excusing myself to change. I stepped out of the bathroom adjusting the fit of the tank top that was more form fitting than my previous shirt. When I looked up, Garrett was staring at me with a heated look. “What’s the matter?”

  “The other shirt looked better,” he growled. I did my best to hide my grin, but it wasn’t hard to miss the throb of desire that made my entire core tighten.

  We started walking back to our section. Before we entered the stadium, Garrett stopped and pulled me against him with a dizzying spin. “Let’s wait a moment,” he said softly. His eyes were on my lips, and I wanted so badly for him to just close the tiny distance between us and kiss me. Instead, he pulled back slightly as the lights dimmed, and the opening act started to play.

  With my arms wrapped around him, I could feel him tense. The stadium was dark and loud and completely full. My hands traced light paths up and down his back until I felt him relax. The opening act was good, a solo female pop performer who had a kind of an electronic sound. I recognized one of her songs from the radio and hummed along. When her set ended, I faced Garrett and looked up at him with worried eyes.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  He gave me a wry smile. “For being here with me tonight.” He pressed me against the wall and devoured me whole with one perfect kiss. My knees trembled. My heart beat wildly in my chest. Garrett started to pull back, but I tangled my fingers in his thick hair and guided his face back toward mine where I reciprocated, branding him with my lips. Claiming him as mine.

  Slowly, our kiss was replaced with shy, nervous smi
les. “I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for a kiss like that,” I confessed breathlessly. My body was humming, and my lips were tingling because of what Garrett had just done. Tonight was all about having fun, letting loose and forgetting about life.

  Garrett kissed me lightly on the forehead and murmured, “Me too,” before we headed back to the concourse. He bought a second round of drinks, and we finally returned to our section. Jackson was the only one who engaged us in conversation because Palmer and Nikki were both engrossed in their cell phones. I watched Garrett as he talked with Jackson; he seemed relaxed and lighter, which put me at ease. His arm slipped casually around the back of my seat, and his hand cupped my shoulder. His thumb traced circles underneath the sleeve of my top before he withdrew his touch. My skin chilled instantly. He had warmed every inch of me with that modest touch, and I missed it immediately.

  I was so relaxed and happy as I waited for the second set that I barely registered Nikki getting up until she bumped into my knee. I looked up to see her leering down at me. “Excuse me,” she snarled. I quickly readjusted myself to let her pass.

  “What’s her problem?” I muttered. No one answered me as the lights dimmed again, and the second act started.

  They were a more well-known band, and my foot bobbed along to their music. The songs that I knew, I happily sang along to, but I was always aware of Garrett. He tried to remain relaxed and happy but ultimately failed. I let my hand fall to the side and slipped it into his, which no one noticed. He glanced down at our tangled fingers before leaning back against the seat of his chair and closing his eyes. I couldn’t begin to understand the kind of emotional turmoil he was dealing with right now. When the second act ended, and the lights came back on, he breathed out a heavy sigh and dropped my hand before running his hands up and down his thighs nervously and shaking his head. I wondered how he would handle the rest of the concert.

  My foot anxiously tapped, waiting for Coldplay to take the stage. They were my absolute favorite band, and I had only seen them once before in high school with Palmer. I peered down the row and, sure enough, he was wearing the T-shirt we bought that night. It was my second concert, and my parents reluctantly let Palmer drive us to Seattle so we could see the show, but we had a strict curfew. There were no second encores for us. Palmer must have sensed that I was watching him because he looked up and our eyes met.

 

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