by M. R. Joseph
"Yea, it is. It's in Ryland. A small college."
"Of course. Ryland. Ha, it's practically on her doorstep. Jesus, man. I know you love her and want what's best for her, but this is not the path to take. It has to happen naturally."
As far as I know Craw has never been in love so he has no clue what this is like. Hell, up until a year ago I didn't even know. My newly found knowledge of love has changed all that.
"Oh, fuck the paths, Craw. Every path I take is the wrong one except for her. She was the only right path I took. The only path that led me to where I now know I’m supposed to be, who I’m supposed to be. With her. I’m supposed to be with her."
"I get it, Cruz."
He doesn't.
"No, Craw, you don't. You have no idea what it's like to be in my situation. I want her to be happy, I want to be happy and the only way I will be happy is if she's with me. I have no choice."
"Kinda." My voice almost sounding like a child.
"Kinda?"
"Yea, but that's where you come in, my friend."
***
So after a lot of convincing and what I’m sure was a whole pack of cigarettes smoked on Craw's end from nerves, I do in fact convince him. I convince him to let me live with him from now till May. I'll pay my half of the bills and I'll sleep on the damn sofa. I could care less. The plan is in place. Craw's not crazy about it, he tells me he'll have a lot of explaining to do once my Turnip finds out, but Craw's a loyal guy and he didn't forget what I did while Harlow was in the coma. Not that it would warrant a "you owe me" sort of thing. That's not how I roll. No one owes me. I did what I did because I loved her, still love her. It took me years and years to figure out that I did need love in my life. Not the kind I get from Antonio and Bella, but the true, honest, earth-shaking, toe-curling, can't-go-a-day-without-touching-you-and-holding-you kind of love. The one you can't live without. Picturing her not in my life is not an option. That's why my plan has to work.
My body was once my outlet for feeling things on the outside. The dozens and dozens of women I have had in my bed didn't make it count on the inside. All the feelings that sex brings, they matter to a certain extent. With sex, you feel euphoric when you come, but when you're in love, I mean when you are REALLY in love, that euphoria stays with you and not right after you shoot your load. Day in, and day out. Sex is sex, love is love. When the two get together, it can be explosive. That’s how it was. We just did it a little backwards. I fell in love with her and it wasn't because of the sex. The first time we were together, yea explosive. Crazy explosive, but that's not why I fell in love with her. I fell in love with her because she made me a big, huge pussy. I explained to her when I told her how I felt that I wasn't the mushy-gooshy type. I wasn't a romantic. Well that particular plan went down the shitter. She created a monster. A lovey-dovey, Christmas-light-hanging, old-movie-watching pussy.
I’m not complaining. It's the way it is...or was.
Saying goodbye to Bella, Tony and the baby was hard. I'll come back for Christmas and when I’m not working, I'll visit. I'll miss Matteo the most. God, for someone who didn't want kids, that little bastard has me wrapped around his finger. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately, kids. I'd want that with Harlow. If it means going to the ends of the earth to adopt one with her because she can't physically have one, I'd do it. If that's what she wanted. If it's not, just spending the rest of my life with only her will be plenty for me.
My classes started a few weeks ago. I'll be a little behind but I'll catch up. My job starts next week so I have time to adjust to living in North Ridge, which is where Craw lives. I won't see much of him since he'll be student teaching. Oh, and he'll be doing it at Harlow's school, Grayson-Elders. Lucky him. He gets to see her every day. Part of the deal I made with Craw was to keep my distance from Harlow. At least for a little while. So I guess stalking is out. I agreed. I’m not sure I'll keep up with my end of the bargain though, but I'll try out of respect for him. I know sooner than later I'll be like my crack-head mom and need my fix, but I have to keep this cool, keeping the plan in place. I’ve organized platoons and surprise attacks on enemy lines. A surprise attack is not what I have in mind. Subtlety is what I have spinning around in this fucked-up mind of mine. Baby steps. Tiny, little baby steps.
Craw's not sure how she's going to react to me living there but she'll have to get used to it. I’m not letting her go without some kind of fight.
CHAPTER 7
Getting To Know You
"Willow, I can't wear this, or this, or that." I rummage through my closet, pulling out every article of clothing that I could wear, I should wear, and I don't really want to wear. Willow sits on my bed, flipping through a Cosmo and paying no attention to anything I’m doing. She allows me to go on and on and on. My clothes scattered all over the floor, my hair all over the place, and I swear my deodorant has stopped working completely.
"How can you just sit there and read a magazine, Willow, when I’m in a fashion crisis here? I need your help so get up off your ass and get in this closet with me!"
Yes, I’m yelling, yes, I’m acting childish, but with good reason.
Willow doesn't take her eyes off the magazine, but addresses me. Her tone soft and easy, "I’m not helping you with a thing. You're a big girl, Harlow Jeanne. You'll figure it out."
I wing a flip-flop at her and knock the magazine out of her hands.
"Hey, what's your deal? You could have hit my freaking face!"
Placing my hands on my hips and blowing many a stray hair away from my face, I tell her, "Well then I would have made an improvement to it." The flip-flop flies at my head and I duck just in time.
"Why are you being like this? You are supposed to be helping me, Willow. I hate all these clothes. I can't even remember buying them. They just aren't me. Who let me buy them anyway?"
Willow gets off the bed in a huff.
Tough shit.
She goes into the closet, pushing me aside. Her hands inspect each item, then slides across the closet pole, not satisfied with what she's seeing. She grunts, moans, and shakes her head.
"There's no way you are getting laid with any of the clothes in this closet."
"Dear God, Willow, I have no plans for that. That's not what this is. We are going out for ice cream. I wouldn't be surprised if he's bringing his son."
She peers over her shoulder at me.
"He's not bringing the kid."
I don't know this for sure, but I’m assuming he is.
"It's not a date, Willow. He's a co-worker. He's new to America, to Princeton. It's...it's not a date."
She pulls out a black cardigan, wrinkles up her nose and tosses it with the other stuff on the floor. Her eyes tell me she thinks something totally different.
"It's a frickin’ date. I mean really, let's see. How long has it been?" She begins to count on her fingers.
"Um, okay, New Year’s. That's the last time you kissed anyone, got some man meat, or rubbed up against something nude other than soaping up your own boobs in the shower."
She's so gross.
I’m sort of feeling a bit melancholy about the whole thing. Is this or isn't this a date of sorts? Something inside is making me second-guess my decision. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. Maybe it is too soon for me to go out with Daniel. I’m working really hard on getting my life back together and I’m just not sure a guy fits into that right now. I still think about the pain that Cruz is in. Yes. I think about Cruz. Even though I can't remember our relationship, I think about how he is doing and I know he could be better. I know Craw talks to him and he fills him in on my progress. It's going to take Cruz time. But I do remember what he said about he'd rather have me in his life as a friend than not at all. I’m good with that. I can't even imagine what it was like for him and what it's like for him now. I’m not sure if it’s guilt that is making me feel this way. I’m not sure of a lot these days.
"Wills? Do you think it's too soon? I mean to go out with Da
niel?"
Quickly and without thought she answers, "No."
"Do you think I shouldn't think too much of this? I mean, it's just ice cream, right?"
While her face is buried in the closet she speaks to me, "My hope for you, darling, is that by midnight that ice cream you are supposedly going to get tonight winds up all over your body and that a hot British, single man licks it off of you."
She drives me crazy and wants me to have a romp fest with someone I don't even really know.
Wait...never mind. I’ve done that.
I ignore what she says. It's the way Willow is. Blunt, forceful, full of energy, and always by my side. Always on my side.
"I just don't know how I bought clothes like this. Did my style change when I was in the coma?"
Willow takes her hands and places them on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes.
"A lot about you has changed but for the better, sweetheart." She winks at me and turns back into my closet.
I’m wondering what that means. She’s so engrossed in my wardrobe that I’ll ask later.
"Now let's see what we can find something in here so we can get you laid before your hymen grows back."
***
I never remember being this nervous before. I don't want to tell my family I’m going out on a “date”, or whatever you call it. I don't really know how I’m going to get through this dinner with them. They know me, and they will see right through me.
When I walk into Greta's I’m already getting surprised looks from everyone. See what I mean? Plus I’m only sporting one crutch tonight.
"What's everyone looking at?" My parents, Craw, and Greta's husband, Jeff, stare at me like they've never seen me before, like I’m the bearded lady with three eyes at the carnival.
Mom shakes her head to release herself from her trance.
"Oh, nothing, sweetie. You just look...absolutely amazing."
Willow worked her magic on me. For some reason I wanted her to do my makeup. I wanted more on my face than usual. Nothing heavy, but a little more drama to my eyes. I’m still questioning why, but I just felt like I wanted something a little more daring and this dress I’m wearing, it's Willow's. We went to her house after nothing in my closet was acceptable. Not like I’ve never worn a dress before. And yes, it's a little shorter than the things I have been wearing lately. I’ve been choosing to wear the longer skirts and dresses because of the scars on my legs but Willow tells me that I should embrace them because they are my battle scars. It shows that I won my battle.
At least I’m trying to win it. I know I still have a long way to go, with lots of things.
My dad comes over after moments of awkward silence. He kisses me on top of my head and takes the potato salad out of my hands.
"You look gorgeous, sweetheart. I’m happy to see you."
Mom comes around the kitchen island where we all stand and greets me. She takes my hands and holds out my arms in front of her to get a better look.
"Harlow, your hair, your makeup, this...this dress. You're glowing. And look at all of us. As casual as can be. Flip-flops and T-shirts."
Jeff comes over to me and kisses my cheek. "Flip-flops are the only thing your sister can wear because her feet are so swollen."
Craw is still surveying me. I can't tell if the look on his face is one of approval or one of what's this all about? He leans his elbows on the counter and bites the inside of his cheek.
"Craw, stop staring at me. What the hell is wrong with you?"
He straightens up his posture and scratches his head in wonder.
"Should I be asking you the same question?" I look at him, puzzled.
"What are you talking about, Craw? So I have a dress on, so what?" I chuckle.
He shakes his finger at me and purses his lips. "Nah, that's not it. You curled your hair, you are actually wearing eye shadow, and you're wearing a short dress. I can't put my finger on it ’cause this is just family din din. You look like your going to the goddamn Prom."
"Crawford, watch your mouth," my mom rings out.
I ignore Craw's insinuations as Mom tells us all to get ready for dinner. I hobble into the living room to see my beautiful sister on her chaise lounge, looking as big as a whale but also looking so very gorgeous. Two weeks left and I'll have a niece or nephew. I hobble over to her and give her a kiss on the cheek and go right for the belly. My hands run all over her swollen mid section. I place my ear onto her belly and close my eyes. Knowing life is growing inside her, knowing that she is home to this child, knowing I'll never feel that makes me sad, but this is the next best thing.
Again, my family stares at me. They all know my secret. Why I can't have kids and how I struggle with it. Hell, I struggle with it every day. But why not embrace the fact that my sister can perform this miracle? And that's exactly what it is, a miracle. I don't tell them not to stare, what would be the point. I’ve gained their sympathy, not that I wanted to, but it is what it is. I have to move forward in this and not continue to grieve what I can’t have. I can embrace Greta’s ability and enjoy this moment with her.
I put my mouth to Greta's belly. "Hi there, little baby. Hurry up now and come out so I can spoil you rotten." I smile up at Greta and she winks at me.
"You look beautiful, Har."
I rub my sister’s belly and feel a kick. The miracle must have heard me talking to it.
I laugh and look up at Greta is amazement.
Mom, Dad, Jeff, and Craw bring all the food into my sister's living room and we sit around her big coffee table and eat family style. Greta's still on bed rest or couch rest and is only allowed to come down the stairs once a day, so every week we have what we call “The Carpet Picnic”. We laugh, eat, and discuss how everyone’s weeks have been. Dad tells us Grandmother has been trying to get in touch with him. Greta says the same thing but she no longer wants anything to do with her. Greta ignores her phone calls, which is completely different than last year. She was up her ass with the wedding and all but after she found out how she threatened poor Cruz and the threats, Greta broke all ties with her.
Craw tells us how he starts his student teaching next week at my school. I give him a few ins and outs about Grayson-Elders. My family asks about my classes this year and asked how the ice cream social went and I feel quite warm all of the sudden.
After dinner I help clean up, then go back in to sit with Greta for a bit. I paint her toenails for her—such a sisterly thing to do. When it's about a quarter to eight, I announce that I have to leave.
"Where are you going so soon, honey? We haven't had dessert yet," Mom asks.
"I, um, I’m having dessert out tonight. Someone from school wants to have ice cream so I’m headed over to Riley's Ice Cream on Second Street."
Craw stands up, crosses his arms, and looks at me intensely.
"It's not Willow ’cause she's meeting me, Thea, and Porter for drinks later and she made no mention that you weren't coming. I assumed you were."
I go to say goodbye to my family, pecking everyone on their cheeks and rubbing my sister's belly one last time.
"So who from school are you going to meet? Some divorced, middle-aged, lonely troll from the science department?"
"No," I say grabbing my purse.
"Then who?"
"Why is this a game of twenty questions, Craw? What does it matter?"
His brows furrow. "I just want to know that you’re safe, Har. What's wrong with that?"
Now I feel bad for getting a little snippy with him.
"I’m sorry, Craw. It's really no big deal. It's a new teacher. He just moved here from England and doesn't know many people. So I’m going to show him around downtown and we are going for ice cream." I shrug.
"He?" Craw croons out.
He points to me with excitement in his expression, "I knew it, I knew it! You have a fucking date with him! You have a fucking date!"
My family yells at him in unison for using such fowl language.
"Sorry, Ma.
But I knew it. Look at her. She looks like one of those Kardashian chicks." He runs his hands through his hair. "I’m going outside to smoke." He leaves for outside in a huff and I have no idea why he's acting like this. It's ice cream for God's sake.
I turn to my parents who obviously have questions. Their faces are motionless, not really allowing me to see approval or disapproval. Blank.
"It's not a date, guys. He just asked me and I said yes. I’m not ready to date. I’m working on me, remember?"
Dad comes over to hug me and kisses my temple.
"We know, sweetie. You are an adult. You make your own choices and we just want you to be happy. Now, your brother may need a little bit more convincing than that. He's very protective of you."
This I know all too well about my brother.
My parents tell me to have fun and I walk out the door preparing myself to run into my brother. He's in my sister's driveway smoking, which I freaking hate, but I deal with it. I walk up behind him.
"It's not really a big deal, you know. It's just ice cream."
He turns at the sound of my voice and then back around, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
"By the looks of you it is a big deal."
I step around him so I’m in front. He doesn't look himself. He's not looking at me so I turn his cheek so our eyes meet.
"Hey, you were the one who told me not so long ago to get out, get on with my life and have fun. That's what I’m doing, Craw. Just because I am wearing a tad bit more makeup than usual and I’m finally showing off a little leg, doesn't mean a thing. This is just something that my heart is telling me to do. God knows my damn brain doesn't cooperate half the time. I can't sit around my condo every weekend or hang out with you and Willow and drink beer. I want to meet new people, experience life ’cause you want to know something, brother dear? I almost missed out on that. Life. I have to play catch up."
I smile at him and he still has no expression on his face so I squeeze his cheeks together and I mess up his hair with my fingers.
"Huh, come on, little brother. It's not like I’m running away with the guy and getting married. He has a kid and he's a widower. I think he's lonely. I’ve lived here my whole life so why not show him around so he feels a little more comfortable?"
