The Garden (Lavender Shores Book 2)

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The Garden (Lavender Shores Book 2) Page 17

by Rosalind Abel


  Anger flashed over his face, but it was gone in an instant. “I don’t know.” He stood, but paused again, looking down at me. His expression softened. “I don’t know, Walden. You don’t deserve this shit.” I started to argue, but he held up his hand. “How about this. It’s a good thing I have therapy right now. How about—” He swallowed and looked nervous. “How about you give me your number, and I’ll call you after the session. No matter what. And I’ll give you my number, just so you know I’m not going to disappear. That work?”

  I wanted to tell him to skip the session. That obviously, if he still felt responsible for that shitty teacher, it wasn’t working, but I knew where that would lead, so I clung to the thread of hope he offered. “Yeah. That’ll work.”

  Seventeen

  Gilbert

  Donovan stared at me. Sat in his worn leather chair and just stared.

  “I think you’re about to drool, Doc. You might want to close your mouth. Even you aren’t hot enough to pull off that look.” Ah, sarcasm, my old friend. Pretty sure my voice didn’t betray my heart pounding against my ribs.

  His mouth moved finally, but no words came out. After another couple of seconds of awkward staring, he leaned back in his chair and covered his mouth with his hand. Didn’t fix the staring issue, but at least I wouldn’t have to look at my therapist’s tonsils anymore. He blinked a few times. “Huh.”

  “He speaks!” I raised a hand in the air. “Hallelujah!”

  He snorted and rolled his eyes. Spell broken.

  “I hope you don’t roll your eyes at all your patients, Donovan. It’s very unprofessional.”

  He bypassed the comment. “You actually gave Walden your number? The teacher Walden?”

  “Don’t be obtuse. There’s only one Walden, and it’s just a phone number.”

  He shook his head, his tone serious. “For most people, sure. But that’s practically an engagement ring from you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be a bitch.”

  “I’m not. I’m serious.” He leaned forward again, and a smile played on his face. “You gave this man your number. A man who is a teacher, whom you’ve had sex with multiple times, a man who has been very clear about his feelings for you. And you did so right after you told him about your past. Gilbert, this is huge.”

  “It’s just a phone number.” I’d tried not to growl, and failed. Despite my words, I agreed with him. It was huge. Huger than huge.

  “What did he say about Mr. Fitz?”

  “Well, that was an abrupt switch.” I was tempted not to answer. I knew where he’d go. He didn’t respond, just waited, still leaning toward me, an eyebrow cocked. I sighed in defeat. “Walden said it was the teacher’s fault, not mine. Though he quit arguing about that part pretty quickly.”

  Donovan sat back, nodding in satisfaction. “Smart man. And I feel like I need to point out that judgment is coming from a teacher, so I hope you weigh it heavier. He knows what he’s talking about.”

  I was so tired of this argument. With Donovan, my family, Andrew, everyone. It was the one area in which I agreed with all the gossips in Lavender Shores, and I wished the rest would get on board. “For the billionth time, what does it matter if he was older? I was the one who set my sights on him. He turned me down for months. He tried. Then—” I expelled a huff of air. “I don’t want to talk about that part again. It’s been fifteen years. Aren’t you tired of it?”

  “Exactly my point, Gilbert. You’re still paying the price all these years later. A price that a man who was supposed to have had your best interests at heart should’ve protected you from.”

  “He paid a larger price.” I could still feel the ice that seemed to pour over me as I’d read his son’s Facebook announcement of his father’s death. It had been vague, but knowing what I knew, it was easy to catch the meaning of how Mr. Fitz had died.

  “Maybe so.” Donovan shrugged. “And you’re right, we’ve been down this road before. I’m sure we will be again. But we have new things to discuss.” A brightness filled his face. “Tell me about Walden.”

  “Really? You want me to wax poetic or some shit?”

  He just grinned. “If you want.”

  I kinda did want. I wasn’t going to, but I could’ve, which was new. But I did want to talk about him. Needed to. Donovan and I might not agree on who was to blame with Mr. Fitz, but he was a straight shooter. Always had been. He didn’t sugarcoat or cut corners. If I was being insane about Walden, he’d say. If my feelings for him were rooted in my issues instead of reality, I trusted Donovan to point them out.

  “I don’t know, Doc. I can’t explain it to you. Walden is gorgeous.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, picturing him in his stupid red glasses. “Sometimes he’s geeky hot, but then others, like this morning”—the image of him in the yard, not hidden behind glasses, sleeveless shirt—“he’s just fucking hot, you know?”

  Donovan simply raised his eyebrows.

  “Fine.” I sighed. “I know, I know. Not what you asked. There are a million hot guys in the world, and I’ve been with half of them. His looks aren’t what make Walden special.” Oh my God, I’d just referred to Walden as special. The hangover headache was nearly gone, but I was in serious danger of puking again. I pushed on. “And I know I’ve had plenty of earth-shattering sex, but there’s something different about sex with Walden. It’s even more… shattering.”

  “Sexual connection is great. And important.” Dr. Carlisle’s therapy voice arrived. “Tell me about Walden.”

  The image of him in the garden came back to me again, but this time, not as he stood to look at me, but when he didn’t know I was watching. As he dug in the earth. “He’s got this garden. I didn’t know about it until today, but it’s astounding, Donovan. I really wish you could see it. I guess it was this near jungle-like thing, and he’s completely transformed it. It’s not all formal with hedges or any of that shit. Somehow he managed to keep some of the wildness it had but turned it into something beautiful, something nearly supernaturally wonderful.”

  Donovan blinked again, but I couldn’t read his thoughts.

  I kept going. “But, like I said, that was just today. So that doesn’t really count for much. I don’t know how to explain the rest. I just know when I’m with him, I relax.” I snorted out a laugh. “Well, not really. I’m a nervous wreck around him half the time, trying to figure out why I feel the way I do, trying to figure out why the hell he wants to be with me at all. But outside of that, being with Walden is kinda like being with Lacy or Andrew, except for the, well, wanting to sleep with him thing.”

  Donovan chuckled, but motioned for me to go on.

  Without thinking it through, I closed my eyes and pictured him. His handsome face, those expressive blue eyes, it was almost like he was there with me. “I can feel it even now, and he’s not even here. Just thinking about him makes breathing easier. He scares the shit out of me, but I think that’s because I’m afraid I’m going to lose him.” I opened my eyes again. “I really thought I would today, that he’d walk away, or run away, after hearing about my past. I’m not sure what it says about him that he didn’t. It can’t be good.”

  Donovan’s mouth fell open again, but he closed it faster than before. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Oh my God. You love him.”

  He said it with such wonder that I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Well, yeah. Duh. I figured that out this morning. Though I think I’ve felt that way a lot longer.”

  Donovan flinched. “Holy shit.” He covered his mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to curse.”

  It was only the second time I’d heard him cuss during therapy. “Not a big deal, Doc. I’ve seen you at parties and such. You don’t have the mouth of a sailor, but you’re no nun either, especially after a couple piña coladas.” I loved giving him shit for that. Who the hell had piña coladas as their go-to drink?

  He didn’t take the bait. “How do you feel when you say you love Walden? Say it for real, please, and p
ay attention to how your body responds.”

  “Oh my God, seriously?”

  “Gilbert.” He sounded so much like my overly serious father in that moment, I almost laughed again.

  Instead, I closed my eyes once more and brought forth Walden’s image. Before I spoke, my skin tingled in anticipation, as if he was standing before me and I was getting ready to tell him. “I love him. I love Walden.” And though it truly did scare the ever-loving shit out of me, as I spoke the words, a sense of peace fell over me. I sat with it a moment, then opened my eyes. “I don’t know how I can be so scared of something and feel at ease with it at the same time.”

  Donovan smiled, gentle, almost fatherly, though there was only a decade between us. “Because you’re in love. That’s exactly how it is.”

  Part of me didn’t like it. Another part did, strangely. “What do I do about it?”

  He laughed, loud and abrupt. His smile widened. “Well, that’s up to you. What do you want to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I know that I don’t want to lose him. But I’m not sure what else is possible.”

  “Do you have to figure that out right now? Maybe it’s enough to know you don’t want to lose him.”

  My fears burst forth. Fears that were nearly as large as how Walden was going to react about my past. “But it’s too soon, right? I can’t know how I feel about him already? Not really.”

  Donovan shrugged, unconcerned. “You’ve known him for what? Four months?”

  “Five.” I knew to the day, but didn’t say that. It was a little more than five. “But we’ve really only been together a few days in all that time.”

  “And Andrew and Joel, what about them?”

  “Uhm….” His question didn’t make sense. “They like him well enough. I know Walden’s closer to Joel than Andrew, but—”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t clear.” Donovan interrupted me. “I meant, what do you think about Andrew and Joel? They had known each other for only a few days before Joel completely altered his life to be with Andrew.”

  That had bugged me at the beginning of their relationship, though I’d been careful in suggesting that to my best friend. “I’m not Andrew, Doc. He’s practically a walking Disney cartoon.”

  He laughed again. “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, they just knew. At least that's how Andrew described it. He just knew. Even when Joel left, Andrew said he knew he’d lost his soul mate. But again, that’s Andrew.” I could still feel Andrew’s sobs the night Joel had driven way. Lamont and I had held him all night long.

  “And what about you? Do you know? In your gut?” Donovan always pushed, but not the way he was doing on this.

  “Am I supposed to? Is that how it works? Everyone just knows?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m sure it’s not how it works for everyone. But I’ve spoken to enough successful couples to know that sometimes it does work that way. Sometimes a person just knows.”

  I took a shaky breath, and whatever my heart had been doing before, it hadn’t been beating, it seemed, at least not compared to what it was doing now.

  “So, do you know?”

  He must have seen the answer on my face to keep pushing. I nearly refused to reply, but what was the point in that? I nodded. “Yeah, I know. At least I think so.” I shook my head, the words feeling instantly untrue. “No, I know. If there is to be anyone, it’s Walden.”

  Terror rocketed through me.

  Oh, that was the point of refusing to answer. Then there’d be nothing to take back. I could pretend to Donovan that I wasn’t sure. I could pretend to myself.

  “You okay?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I met his gaze. “What do I do now?”

  He gave that fatherly smile again. “That’s up to you, Gilbert. Basically, you decide if you want it or not. It really is up to you. Well, and Walden as well, of course. At least if you decide you want to see where things might go with him.”

  I had no idea which option was more terrifying. That Walden would say he was certain too and wanted to give a relationship a try or that he’d reject me. One was terrifying, but the mere thought of the other hurt like hell.

  Maybe that was the answer. Surely a person was supposed to choose what scared them, not what hurt them. Although, looking back on many of my choices, I’d chosen the option that led to pain.

  Maybe it was time to change that.

  Donovan glanced at the clock, and I knew what that meant, though the regret in his tone was genuine. “I’m so sorry, Gilbert, I wish my next hour was available, but I need to wrap up for today.”

  I snorted. “I’m in that bad of shape that I need a two-hour session today, huh?”

  He considered. “Actually, no. You seem pretty clear, but I know it’s scary.” Another smile. “I’m excited for you, though. You deserve some happiness.”

  “Sounds like you know which way I’ll go here.”

  He winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that, but… do you know which way you’ll go?”

  I didn’t even have to think. I could pretend there were options, but there weren’t. Maybe without my years with Donovan I’d have taken that route only to discover the answer later, maybe much too late. “Yeah. I know.”

  “Figured.” He smiled again. “Do me a favor, though, will you?”

  I’d learned years ago to never make a promise in therapy before hearing the terms.

  He didn’t wait. “The next time you’re in Walden’s garden, think about how you described it to me, okay?”

  Strange request. “All right…. Are you feeling okay, Doc?”

  “Yeah, I am.” He shook his head at me as he chuckled. “Just give it a try.”

  I sat in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes, staring at Walden’s number on my cell. If I did this, there would be no going back. Either things would go really, really great, or truly horrible and painful. I didn’t see an option in the middle. Which made sense, every part of my life had always played to extremes. It was only logical this would too.

  Maybe they were all right about Mr. Fitz. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe the truth of it was somewhere in the middle as well.

  Whatever the truth was, I was ready to grasp at something good. I’d risked it all for my art, and it had worked out better than I’d dreamed. Maybe Walden would too.

  I tapped his name, suddenly aware that this was our first phone call. Maybe not important. Countless phone calls were made every single day. But it felt big somehow.

  The surprise in Walden’s tone when he answered suggested he felt the same way. “Hey.”

  “You didn’t think I’d call, did you?”

  There was silence on his end for a few seconds. “I hoped you would.”

  And wasn’t that astounding. “Really? Even after everything last night and today?”

  He didn’t hesitate, nor did he make some excuse for all I’d told him, which I appreciated. “Yes, really. Very much. I’m glad you called.”

  I could hear the relief in his voice, and I hated that I’d caused him any stress at all, but it also eased my nerves in a way. Some part of Walden must have known as well. Whether by magic or a higher power, or just years in therapy, somehow it seemed we both just knew. In that vein, I gave in to the impulse the moment the thought entered my mind. “Wanna come to family dinner tonight? I know you’ve met a lot of them already, but you can see the Bryants in action. If my story today didn’t make you turn and hightail it for the mountains, this just might.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t joke about things like that, but it made the possibility a little less scary, putting it out on the table that way.

  “You want me to have dinner with your family?” The wonder in his voice was easy to hear.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  A puff of air made a loud noise in my ear. “That must have been some therapy session.”

  I couldn’t hold back a laugh. And then it caught, and I laughed and laughed.


  On the other end of the line, Walden began to laugh as well. Self-consciously at first, then full force.

  After at least a minute or so, the laughter faded, and I could speak again, though I felt lighter and less afraid. “Yeah, it was a good session. So, what do you say? Dinner?”

  “Can I wear my red glasses?”

  Although there was teasing in his voice, I couldn’t help but read into it. Nor could I turn it into a joke. “Please do. I know what you said those glasses stand for. So please do. But only if you’re sure.”

  Eighteen

  Walden

  Just like the Kelly mansion at Christmas, the Bryant house was daunting. Beautiful, but daunting. Which considering Gilbert, maybe fit. He was also beautiful and daunting. The home was a bit confusing, though. It looked like it wanted to be a cottage but had grown ten sizes too large.

  And like at Christmas, I stood on the front porch trying to get up my nerve to knock. How times had changed, though. I was here to meet Gilbert’s parents, his family. Even though I knew several of them, this was a completely different thing.

  Maybe it had been a mistake to tell Gilbert I’d meet him here instead of having him pick me up. I’d thought the drive over with him would make me more nervous, but I doubted I could be much more nervous than I was at that moment. I switched the bunch of flowers I brought to my other hand, then passed them back once more.

  I needed to rip off the Band-Aid. I lifted my hand and got ready to knock. The door swung open.

  Gilbert grinned. “I’ve been watching you through the peephole for a good three minutes. You’re much sexier like this, without a bobblehead distortion.”

  Without thinking, I smacked his shoulder. “No, you haven’t.”

  He rubbed his arm. “Seems like you’re going to fit in just fine. Not a day goes by that someone isn’t hitting me.” His grin came back. “But yes, I was. It was cute watching you trying to get up your nerve.” Cute. He was calling me cute now? Something had really changed. “I see you wore your red glasses.”

 

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