The Truest of Words

by Georgina Guthrie

  From that point on, the ceremony was a blur as I struggled to contain the emotions roused by David’s gesture. He must have known that if Elaine had presented me my award today, the honor being conferred would have been tainted by her insincerity. He’d come all the way here despite being incredibly busy to make sure that wouldn’t happen. Never in a million years would I be able to articulate my gratitude.

  When my name was called, my legs somehow carried me to the podium where David stood, waiting to give me my plaque and shake my hand. After he’d patted me on the shoulder and congratulated me, I took a quick moment to look out at the sea of faces. My mother was holding up her camera, madly snapping pictures while Daniel watched from his spot at the side of the hall, his eyes shining with pride.

  After the ceremony, the heat chased everyone outside. My mother hugged me and examined my plaque with a contented smile before slipping it into her purse for safe keeping.

  “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I can’t tell you how great it felt seeing you up there getting that award.”

  “Hey, that was just the beginning. Now we head over to Convocation Hall so you can watch me and hundreds of other people get our diplomas. Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

  My mother laughed while I hunted around for Daniel, biting my thumbnail as I contemplated the impending introductions.

  “So, Daniel’s father is an important man on campus, I gather?” my mother said.

  “He’s pretty high up there.”

  “And who do you suppose that man is? The one who’s shaking his hand,” my mother whispered, gesturing behind me. “He seems too old to be a student. Not old enough to be a professor, though. And profs aren’t generally that good-looking, either, are they?”

  When I turned around and saw who she was talking about, I suppressed a guffaw.

  “Mom, that’s Daniel.”

  “That’s Daniel?” She flushed and covered her mouth. “Oh. Oops…”

  I tried to view Daniel as my mother might be seeing him—a young man in a beautifully-cut suit, earnestly shaking his dad’s hand and listening attentively to what his father was saying. He and David stood out like sore thumbs, a veritable father-son spread from GQ.

  “He’s very handsome and well-put-together,” my mother said, recovering quickly from her blunder. “A little serious, maybe.”

  Daniel, perhaps sensing he was being watched, turned away from his father and smiled in our direction. His love swept me up like a warm, soothing wave.

  “He’s not always serious,” I pointed out.

  “Well, yes…that’s…quite a smile,” my mother said, breathlessly.

  Ah, yes—the dimple. Capable of making grown women lose the feeling in their kneecaps.

  As Daniel wrapped up with his father and walked toward us, I felt a flurry of panic. My smile faltered as he greeted us. I shifted my weight and swallowed, demonstrating the social graces of a tree stump. Daniel took over, his hand outstretched as he addressed my mother.

  “I’m Daniel Grant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.—”

  “Please, call me Linda,” my mother insisted. “It’s nice to meet you too, Daniel.”

  “My father said to congratulate you again, Aubrey,” Daniel said. “He’s on his way to Convocation Hall to run over his speech for later. He’s nervous.”

  “He certainly did a lovely job here. It was a nice ceremony,” Mom said. “Oh, and thank you so much for ordering that car service from the airport yesterday. That was kind of you.”

  “It was no trouble at all.” He slipped one hand in his pocket while the other brushed against mine.

  I turned my hand slightly, my fingertips skimming his knuckles.

  “Um, Mom, could you excuse us for a second? We need to sort out some plans for later and whatnot.”

  “Take your time,” my mom said. “I’ll use the washroom and catch up with you in a few minutes.”

  I nodded and allowed Daniel to deliver his “It was nice to meet you” speech before I dragged him to the shade of a maple tree.

  “I’m sorry I was late,” he said. “I had to swing by Patty’s to pick up her graduation gift for you. My dad told me they have something for you, too.”

  “They didn’t have to do that. After what your dad just did, I’d say I owe him a gift. Did you know he was running the ceremony instead of Elaine?”

  “Not until about ten o’clock, right after I texted you. Just think—you will never have to see Elaine Armstrong ever again.”

  “I’m thrilled, believe me.”

  He smiled, his eyes drifting to my lips. I could almost taste his mouth, almost feel his tongue against mine. I wanted to step into his arms and press my lips to his, but I didn’t have the courage.

  “Fuck, is there any chance of getting you alone today? Really alone,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing my cheek.

  “Are you getting fresh with me right in the middle of the Vic quad, Mr. Grant?”

  “Honestly, Miss Price? Probably.” He straightened and rubbed at his scruff, smiling cheekily. “That dress does amazing things for your ass.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I think my ass might be out of commission for the day.”

  “So, it’s going to be ‘look but don’t touch’?”

  “Don’t worry. When I put on my black gown, you won’t be able to see a thing.”

  “I suppose that’ll lessen the temptation.” He chuckled. “What about tonight? Will you have some free time?”

  “My mom and I are going to see The Sound of Music. The tickets were a surprise gift from my dad. I won’t be done until close to midnight. The next two days look pretty busy too.”

  His face fell.

  “We’ll figure out something, sailor.”

  I reached for his hand without thinking and squeezed it lightly. He raised his eyebrows, and we looked down at our joined fingers before dropping our hands. I glanced over my shoulder self-consciously. This coming out business was going to take some practice.

  “Um, I should probably head over and get my gown,” I said.

  “I’ll wait for you here?”

  “Okay.”

  I weaved through the crowd, reaching the long row of tables on the other side of the quad where I waited my turn before locating my gown, hood, and processional card. I slipped the gown around my shoulders and folded the white fur hood across my arm. This was it. In approximately three hours, I would be a graduate of U of T. Wowza.

  Daniel watched from near the maple tree as I soaked in the moment. As we smiled across the quad at each other, hundreds of memories merged in my mind, the ones from recent months standing out in sharp relief against the rest. I had no idea what to expect in the future, but whatever changes were in store for me, I’d handle them. Daniel was always telling me I could do anything I put my mind to, and after what I’d achieved over the last four years, I had to admit, he was right.

  I read the card in my hand, the words written in elegant script under the Victoria College crest.

  Aubrey Lynn Price

  Bachelor of Arts

  ~Honors Graduate~

  You kicked some ass, Miss Price, I added quietly.

  Chapter 20

  Truth and Beauty

  But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,

  And, constant stars, in them I read such art

  As ‘Truth and beauty shall together thrive…’

  (Sonnet 14)

  I CLOSED THE APARTMENT DOOR, slipping my shoes off with a grateful sigh. Longest. Day. Ever.

  Padding quietly to my bedroom, I chuckled at the thunderous snores coming from behind Matt’s closed door. Hopefully I’d be sleeping just as deeply very soon. First, though, I had to call Daniel. I hadn’t spoken to him since I’d left the post-convocation reception to go for dinner with my mom. He’d made me promise to call him as soon as I got home, regardless of the hour.

  I cringed, imagining I was waking him. On the contrary, when he answered, he sounded remarkably awake.r />
  “There’s my favorite graduate. How was your evening?”

  “Nice, but very long. I’m dragging my ass.”

  “That’s too bad. I’ve been thinking about that ass of yours, and I was hoping you could come out and play.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m downstairs. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then get the hell up here!”

  “I’d rather you came down.”

  “Daniel, it’s almost midnight.”

  “I know, but I have a surprise for you. I can’t bring it up there.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right down.”

  I made my way back to the door and slipped on my shoes, trying to ignore the protests of my toes which had wrongly assumed the torture was over. Daniel wasn’t in the Jackman lobby. I pushed open the front doors, thinking he’d be right outside. He wasn’t.

  I peered up and down the street, and then I heard a low whistle coming from the gatehouse. Daniel stepped into the glow of a streetlight. Although he was still wearing his dress shirt and trousers, he’d abandoned the jacket and tie. He propped himself against the lamppost, slipping his hands into his pockets. Sex on legs. I rushed straight into his arms, sighing contentedly. He held me close with one hand, but the other slid down my back until he was cupping my ass cheek.

  “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

  “Let me understand this,” I said. “I was receiving my honors plaque and my diploma, and all you were thinking about was feeling my ass?”

  “That wasn’t all I was thinking about, but you looked so gorgeous today. You can’t blame my imagination for working overtime. Listen, it won’t be your graduation day for much longer. You’d better come with me.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll see.” He took my hand and guided me through the gatehouse and down the steps toward the lower residence houses.

  “We’re holding hands in the quad,” I whispered.

  “Feels pretty good, huh?”

  “Feels awesome, sailor.”

  “I wish this was happening in broad daylight instead of midnight, but I’m not about to split hairs,” he said.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he motioned around the corner. There, nestled in the middle of the Peace Garden, was a row of tea lights glowing on the stone wall around the pond. He’d thrown a blanket on another section of the surrounding ledge. A collection of gift bags was arranged on the ground in front of it.

  “Daniel, this is beautiful.”

  “You think so?” We sat down on the blanket.

  “This garden is lovely. I’d forgotten it was here.”

  “I’ve only recently discovered it myself. Once I realized we wouldn’t get any time alone today, I came up with Plan B.” He took my hand in his. “I wanted to carve out some time on your day, just for us, without any interruptions. I know there’s no one around, but I wanted to do this out in the open, here at Vic.”

  “Just because we can?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, is this our coming out party?” I asked.

  “I don’t know if it’s a party, but there are presents.” He pointed at the collection of gift bags on the ground. “That’s from Patty, and that one’s from my mom and dad, but you can open those later. The only one I’d like you to open tonight is mine.”

  “I thought the necklace was my graduation present.”

  “Meh. That was just a warm-up. You’ll like this. At least I hope so.”

  As usual, his sincerity disarmed me. Instead of protesting, I rested my head on his shoulder. “I can’t imagine not liking a gift from you, sunshine. You’re always so thoughtful.”

  “This might be the best one yet. Are you familiar with Shakespeare’s Sonnet 14?”

  “You know the sonnets aren’t my specialty.”

  “Trust me, you’ll like it. I’ve always thought it was a beautiful poem, but now the words mean something tangible. They make me think of you.” He gave me a sly smile. “Would you like me to recite it for you?”

  I sat up. “Are you kidding me? Of course!” I almost clapped my hands with excitement.

  “All right, here goes.”

  He took a deep breath and then cradled my cheek as he looked into my eyes. I could feel myself quivering and he hadn’t even started yet.

  “Aubrey…

  ‘Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;

  And yet methinks I have astronomy,

  But not to tell of good or evil luck,

  Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;

  Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,

  Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,

  Or say with princes if it shall go well,

  By oft predict that I in heaven find…’”

  He ran his thumb gently under my eye before continuing, his voice softening.

  “‘But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,

  And, constant stars, in them I read such art

  As truth and beauty shall together thrive,

  If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;

  Or else of thee this I prognosticate:

  Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.’”

  He lifted his eyebrows inquisitively as if to say, How’d I do?

  I hugged him tightly. “Daniel, that’s the most beautiful gift anyone’s ever given me.”

  “Oh, that’s not the gift.” He extricated himself from my embrace and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small blue bag. It was another gift from Tiffany & Co. “Consider the sonnet the gift tag. This is the gift.”

  He tugged the drawstring and held the bag open for me. I lowered my fingers inside the velvet and pulled out a gorgeous bangle. It twinkled with a pinkish cast and three diamonds inlaid near the clasp glittered in the moonlight.

  “It’s stunning,” I breathed. “Rose gold?”

  “To go with your necklace.”

  The roman numerals one to twelve were etched into the outer surface of the bracelet. I traced them with my fingertip. “I love it. What’s the significance of the numbers?”

  He frowned. “It reminded me of a clock—time. That’s all we’ve known for months. Always waiting. Always counting down…”

  “Not anymore.”

  “I know.” He gazed down at me thoughtfully. “I suppose it signifies more than just where we’ve come from. It’s a reminder to cherish our time together, to try to be present in every moment.”

  I pressed my lips together, the emotional peaks of my day finally crashing together.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, not trusting my voice to make it through the tightness in my throat.

  “Don’t say anything—at least, not yet. You see, there’s more. I had it engraved.”

  He tilted the bracelet, attempting to show me the words etched inside the band, but it was too dark. I squinted and shook my head.

  “Shall I tell you what it says?” he asked.

  I nodded, and he tipped my quivering chin up.

  “I’m not sure if you believe the words engraved over on Old Vic’s south entrance—” his eyes flickered across the quad “—but if the truth can make you free, there’s something I know.” As he spoke, he unclasped the bracelet, held my wrist steady and snapped the clasp closed.

  “‘Aubrey, your love is my truth; all my love is yours, in return.’” He took both of my hands in his. “That’s what it says.”

  Words failed me. There was nothing to do but kiss him, which I did with unrestrained passion.

  “Does the invitation to go upstairs with you still stand?” he asked, once I’d given him a chance to come up for air.

  “You’d better believe it.”

  “Good, because kissing you in the Peace Garden is one thing. Making love to you here would be another thing entirely.”

  And then we were kissing again, but this time he took th
e lead, his lips gentle and sweet, his tongue slow and deliberate.

  “I could live to be a hundred years old and never get tired of kissing you,” he said thickly.

  “Do you have any idea how much I love you, Daniel?”

  He lowered his eyelids and grinned. It was the smile of the victorious, as if winning my love was the most glorious achievement in the world.

  “Why don’t we go up to your room?” he suggested. “You can tell me all about it—or better yet, show me.”

  “I have a single bed. There won’t be a lot of space.”

  “Then we’ll have to lie really close together,” he said.

  “How do you feel about doing the walk of shame back to your car, sailor?”

  I giggled as I put on a pair of pajama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt, ready to take a shower.

  “It’s only the walk of shame if you’re hoping no one sees you.” Daniel kicked off the sheets and reached for his boxers. “I’ll be doing the epic stride of pride. I intend to walk you all the way to your mom’s hotel, holding your hand the entire time and kissing you every twenty feet. I hope I see everyone I know.”

  He stole a quick kiss and then pinched my ass playfully. “Okay, crazy legs. Your mom’s expecting you. You should shower. I’ll entertain myself by snooping through your underwear drawer.”

  I laughed and went to the bathroom. Matt was sitting on his bed pulling on some socks, apparently about to go for a morning run.

  “Good morning, cowboy.”

  “Speak for yourself,” he said. “Or maybe I should say shriek for yourself. Good times last night?”

  “You know it,” I said, smiling saucily before locking myself in the bathroom.

  When I returned to my room fifteen minutes later, Daniel was dressed and crouched in front of my closet, his head tilted as he scanned the labelled boxes piled inside.

  “What are you doing?”

  “High school junk and yearbooks,” he said, reading from one of the taped-up boxes. “Why would you drag all of this stuff with you to university?”