10 Years Later

by J. Sterling

As he pulled my comforter around his naked body, I fought the urge to grab my cell and take a picture. I needed proof to text to Kristy later, I thought. Or maybe I simply wanted something to remember our night by?

  When I placed a soft kiss on his cheek, his arms clasped me out of nowhere and pulled me against him. “I need to get ready for work,” I managed to squeak out. “I can’t be late.”

  Dalton grunted and made a funny noise as he slowly released his death grip on me. I forced myself to head into the bathroom when all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed next to him and revel in the fact that Dalton Thomas was once again in my bedroom. Naked.

  Alone in the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror and breathed out a sigh of relief that I didn’t look terrible. Aside from no lipstick and a few eyelashes sticking out in odd directions, last night’s makeup was still perfectly applied. No wonder he thought I looked pretty. I normally showered in the evenings so that I could sleep longer in the mornings, but last night was anything but ordinary. I brushed my teeth and then my hair, before pulling out my makeup case to add some minor touchups.

  Once I finished, I flipped on the light switch in my closet and stepped inside, closing the door behind me without a sound. I had a full-length mirror in there, and there was plenty of room for me to get dressed without having to go in and out multiple times. I didn’t want to keep waking Dalton up, but I did hate that with the door closed, I couldn’t steal glances at his body lying in my bed.

  After pulling on my sandals, I exited the closet fully dressed and ready for the day, albeit a little tired and sore. Leaning down toward Dalton as he lay sleeping, I planted another kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you later. Lock the door on your way out. There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

  “Have a good day, babe. I’ll try not to eat all your food when I wake up,” he said groggily, teasing me. At least, I assumed he was teasing.

  It should have felt uncomfortable, the idea of leaving him all alone in my condo, but it didn’t. Nothing about Dalton being in my personal space weirded me out in the slightest, and I had no qualms about leaving him there with all my things.

  On the drive to work, I was dying to call Kristy and tell her all about my night, but she wouldn’t be awake yet and I’d never hear the end of it if I woke her up for this. I’d have to talk to her during normal hours, and I prayed I’d be able to wait that long.

  • • •

  My work day dragged by, partly because I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. There was also some part of me watching the clock with anticipation until I could go home, hoping that Dalton would still be asleep in my bed when I got there, although I knew he wasn’t. He’d sent me a text message earlier, telling me thanks for letting him sleep over and to not pay attention to any missing items. His comments made me laugh, but also alerted me to the fact that he had most likely gone to work.

  I successfully avoided Tom and John’s on-air questions to me throughout the day, waving off their accusing looks and comments about my incessant yawning. Eventually the show moved on to other topics, thankfully not of the Cammie’s current love life variety. It helped that we gave away tickets this morning, for front row seats to a concert by the current hottest boy band, so that kept the guys distracted and me very busy.

  Yawning as I waited for the elevator at the end of the day, the sound of Scott yelling my name stopped me. I turned to face my boss as he waved me forward.

  “Heading out?”

  I wondered if that was a trick question. “Yeah. I finished all my paperwork and entered all the winners’ information in the computers, as well as backed it up by hand, just in case. I checked with the sponsors for tomorrow’s show and they’re all set, sending products over in the morning for us. I called Solancey’s agent and manager to make sure she’ll be at the studio by seven thirty. They confirmed. All food and beverage is confirmed. Everything’s a go. Did I miss anything?”

  “Nope. Everything sounds great.” He pushed the elevator call button before glancing around, and I suddenly wished we weren’t alone. “But you look like shit, Cammie. It’s obvious you didn’t get much sleep last night. Let’s not make it a habit.”

  I tried to hide my shock and discomfort as he continued. “You’re doing a great job, but this kind of thing gets old real quick. And without sleep, you’re bound to start fucking up. Most people can’t handle these hours, but I think you can. Don’t blow it. No guy is worth losing your job for.”

  The elevator arrived with a ding, and he held the door open for me as I stepped inside, unsure of what to say in response. How had one night with Dalton turned into my job being threatened at work?

  As the doors started to close, I wedged my arm between them and they shot back open with a jerk. “I’ve never given you any reason to doubt my work ethic, Scott. And yes, I might be tired today, but your assumption that it has to do with a guy is completely uncalled for, not to mention inappropriate. How do you know I wasn’t sick? Or helping a friend? I don’t appreciate the veiled threats to my job when I’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant them.”

  Scott said nothing, simply stood there as his eyes grew wide, and when the elevator started beeping loudly, I groaned and pulled out my arm. “If I start screwing up, then we can have this discussion, but not before then.” The doors shut with a bang, and I blew out a frustrated breath.

  Shit. I hope I didn’t get fired for saying all of that. But sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself.

  Saying Kristy’s name once I was inside my car, I waited as the phone finally connected and started to ring.

  “I only have a second,” she answered instead of saying hello. “I’m swamped since we’re closing early today.”

  “You go. I can talk to you later,” I offered.

  “No, it’s okay. Just make it quick.” She breathed out, and I heard the sound of papers being shuffled and the slam of a stapler in the background.

  “Uh . . .” Now that I had her on the phone, I didn’t know where to start. I called her because I wanted to tell her about Dalton, but now I was pissed about work.

  “Cammie, seriously!”

  “Dalton and I slept together last night,” I blurted.

  “What? Like you had a sleepover, or you had sex and then slept?” she whisper-shouted into the phone.

  “The last one,” I said before I looked around, as if the drivers in the cars next to me could hear my conversation.

  “Shut up! At least one of us is getting laid. Tell me it was amazing, but tell me quick,” she demanded, and I knew she had to get off the phone.

  “It was amazing. I’ll tell you all about it later. Call me after you get off work.”

  “Call you? Screw that, I’m coming over.” She laughed before hanging up on me without saying good-bye.

  When I walked through my front door, something was different. Light streamed through curtains I normally never opened in my bedroom. Walking in there to close them, I noticed that my bed had been made, something I also didn’t always do, and a single red rose lay on top of my pillow.

  Smiling, I reached for the rose and sniffed. I was impressed that he had made my bed, but the rose was a nice touch. With the rose in hand, I walked into the kitchen to find the other eleven roses sitting in a vase on my counter. A Post-It note stuck to the vase read:

  Thank you for the best night I’ve had in years.

  Literally.

  In years.

  I can’t wait to see you again.

  Preferably before our next reunion.

  Yours–Dalton

  That was when I noticed the plate that held the cookies was suspiciously empty. Nothing but crumbs remained and I whined to myself, wishing I had a couple of them to eat. Another Post-It lay on top:

  It’s your own fault for making cookies that taste so good.

  Burn them next time and I won’t eat them all.

  Probably not.

  At least, I don’t think I will.

  Hell, you never know with me.
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br />   Rolling my eyes, I peeled off each note and stuck them to the corkboard in my bedroom that hung above my headboard. It might have been a cheesy thing, but I had saved everything from Dalton when we were kids, and I planned to save everything from him now that we were adults. There were simply some guys you wanted to hold on to—every memory, every note, every conversation—you longed to keep it all. And that was how I felt when it came to him.

  Kristy called to tell me she was on her way over and she was bringing food, so I stopped staring inside my refrigerator like it would magically make a meal appear if I looked hard enough. I really needed to go shopping, especially if a man was going to be hanging out at my place.

  “What a freaking day I’ve had.” Kristy’s voice echoed through my hallway as the front door slammed.

  “Ugh. Me too. What’s going on with your work?” I grabbed the bag from her hand that she held out to me and moved toward the couch.

  “Who cares? Tell me everything that happened last night. He came over here, right?”

  I reached into the bag and pulled out a bag of oven-baked chips, a chocolate chip cookie, and an oversized sandwich that had Turkey/Swiss written in black marker on the white paper wrapper. “I love you. Thank you so much for this.”

  “No problem. Now tell me,” she demanded as she unwrapped her own sandwich, which I assumed was most likely something chicken related.

  “He came over. He brought dinner from the Thai place around the corner. We talked about so much stuff,” I admitted, feeling the relief wash over me again at our confessions.

  “Oh my God, did you ask him why he took Carla Benton to prom?” she asked through her mouth filled with food. “Sorry.” She pointed at her face before wiping it with a napkin.

  “Yeah.” I took a bite and chewed until I could swallow it. “He said that he asked her because he heard that I was going with Mark. Remember when he asked me?”

  Kristy’s eyes grew wide. “Shut the fuck up. That’s why he took her?”

  I shrugged one shoulder. “That’s what he said. That he heard I was going with Mark, and he decided to ask the next girl who flirted with him.”

  “Typical male,” she murmured.

  “I know, right? It’s sad to think that everything could have been avoided if we’d just talked about it then, instead of not talking about anything.” I sighed. “We really didn’t communicate well.”

  “Most of us don’t at that age. We’re too hyped up on raging hormones and invincibility.” Kristy took another bite, and I did too as I waited for her next question. “So then what? You guys cleared up everything from the past and hopped into the sack?” she asked with a snicker.

  “Yep. That’s how it happened. He told me why he took Carla to prom, and I dropped my pants right there and said take me!” I stuck out my tongue at her, and she threw a chip at me. “Stop wasting good food,” I chided as I dug around me for the chip and popped it into my mouth.

  “Tell me how it happened,” she said. “Please let me live vicariously through you. This job exhausts me. They’re lucky I’m so damn good at it.”

  “He was actually leaving. I mean, I had walked him to the door and told him good night, when I admitted that I was tempted to ask him to stay instead.”

  “Cammie Angela Carmichael! I’m so impressed with you!”

  I looked away from her beaming face, feeling myself blush. “I didn’t want him to go. It’s not too fast, right? You don’t think I’m a slut?” Not that I really felt like one, but I wanted the reassurance.

  “Oh, hell no. It’s Dalton Thomas. You guys have history. A past. But even if it wasn’t some guy you’ve known forever, you still wouldn’t be a slut for wanting to have sex with him. I honestly figured you two wouldn’t wait very long once you saw each other.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “Because of your history. Because of your past. And because of whatever the hell it is that exists between the two of you now. Even I can sense it when I’m near you guys.”

  I yawned and smiled at the same time, making my ears pop and my jaw cramp awkwardly. “Well, you were right, Miss Smartypants.”

  “I’m always right. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Her eyebrows raised as she shook her head.

  Kristy stayed for another hour, indulging me in watching a TV show that I loved and she hated before heading home. She worked all hours of the day and night, depending on what her role was on the case she was assigned, and she loved it. It wasn’t required of her to do the additional work, but Kristy was a go-getter and she wanted to be the best.

  The sun had yet to set when I passed out exactly where she left me. Sometime later, my cell phone vibrated against the coffee table, startling me awake.

  I glanced down to see Dalton’s name taunting me, and I grabbed it quickly as a shudder of excitement raced through me. “Hi,” I breathed into the phone.

  “Hi, yourself,” he said back. “What are you doing?”

  “Just sitting here.” Literally.

  “Are you tired? Shit, did I wake you?” He sounded concerned, and I wanted to lie to him but couldn’t.

  “It’s okay. I like talking to you.”

  “Just talking?” he teased.

  “Yep. I’m only using you for your incredible phone conversation ability.”

  “Figures. Usually girls use me for my huge—”

  “Hey!” I cut him off, not wanting to hear what I thought he was going to say.

  “I was going to say personality. They use me for my huge personality.” He laughed. “I miss you.”

  My heart leaped into my throat and decided to live there forever as something in my stomach did handsprings over and over again. “I miss you too. Thank you for the roses. And for making my bed. But not for eating all my cookies.”

  “You can punish me later. And you’re welcome.”

  I stretched on the couch, reaching my arm above my head and pulling the muscles in my back. “I’m so tired, but I really want to see you,” I admitted as my boss’s warning played in the back of my mind.

  “You want me to come over? I don’t have to stay long. But if you want to just talk on the phone, we can do that too.”

  “Really? You’d just stay on the phone with me?”

  “For hours.”

  “Get over here.” I laughed. “But I’m warning you. I’m changing into my pajamas and I’m getting ready for bed.”

  “Already trying to lure me into the sack for round two,” he said, clucking disapprovingly into my ear.

  “I’ll lock the door and not answer,” I said with a playful warning in my voice.

  “No, you won’t. Have you eaten?”

  “Kristy brought me a sandwich. I only ate half, but you probably need more food than half a sandwich for dinner, huh?”

  He grunted. “Yeah. I’ll just eat on the way.”

  “I’d offer to cook, but I’m in desperate need of a trip to the store.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon.”

  “’Bye.”

  After ending the call, I ran around the house, making sure it was still clean and that I looked presentable. I got ready for bed, but I didn’t wash my makeup off. Even though I was pretty sure that Dalton would still adore me makeup-free, I wasn’t ready to take that step with him yet. A girl with no makeup on always felt a little vulnerable; it was a universal truth. They didn’t call it war paint for no reason.

  Dalton walked right in without knocking, clearly making himself comfortable already, not that I minded. “Hi!” he shouted as he opened the front door.

  “In the living room.”

  “Please tell me you made me more cookies.” He peered into the kitchen and sniffed the air.

  I had. Because I’m a complete sucker for him already. Again.

  “You’re the best,” he said as he grabbed one off the cooling tray and bit into it. “I seriously love you—” His eyes grew as wide as mine at his words. “Your baking. I love your baking skills
,” he said in an awkward attempt to backtrack.

  “You can thank my mom. She taught me how to bake, and it’s her recipe.” I smiled at him but my heart was racing, still trying to process what he’d almost said.

  “Speaking of, how’s your mom doing?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested. He moved onto the couch next to me, threw his arm around me, and pulled me close.

  I smiled as I thought of her. “She’s doing really well, thanks for asking.” I nuzzled against his chest, reveling in the fact that it was comfortable instead of hard like a rock.

  Death had a weird way of bringing people together. When my dad first died, neighbors brought us meals, stopped by at all hours, and checked on us every single day to see if we needed anything. But it was during those first few weeks, months even, that my mom and I could barely see past our own grief to truly appreciate what they were trying to do.

  So many meals got tossed in the trash before we could eat them. It wasn’t that we were ungrateful, it was simply that we were unable to navigate through the fog of sorrow that had settled over us to do simple tasks like feed ourselves. Everyone gathered around us when we weren’t ready for it, crowding us at a point that we needed to be left alone. Meaning well, they tried to lift us up when all we wanted was to stay on our knees.

  By the time the fog started to lift and I realized that I needed the help and support of others, it was too late. Everyone had moved on. Daily visits had turned into weekly ones, which eventually turned into none. It was just the way life went. Everyone else had moved past our grief because they didn’t have to live in it. Our tragedy was no longer their front page news.

  I never blamed anyone for it, I simply wished it had been different. People surrounded us when we couldn’t see them and left us alone when we needed them most. And that was when the true loneliness crept in, reminding me that my grief was mine alone to bear and work through. Although for the most part, I tucked it away and tried to be strong while my mom fell apart.

  My grief saddled me, though, and I wore that heavy burden like an oversized cloak I couldn’t shed. Until Dalton came along, that is, and I allowed him to peel back the layers.