“So talk.” Her tone was blunt. “I’m surprised you haven’t already. You’re normally a big thinker and planner. Not to mention the world’s worst worry wart.” She stuck her tongue out at me.
I knew she was trying to make me laugh, but I was too close to tears to spare so much as a smile.
“He’s important to me, Ant,” I whispered. “More important that anything.” Including my dancing aspirations, and that scared me. Nothing or no one had ever before competed with that. Not even came close. I was beyond obsessed with Stellan. I woke up thinking about him and went to bed dreaming about him. I thought about him all day long when we weren’t together and yearned for the evening to approach so I could see him again. Was this even healthy for someone my age?
“I know, sweetie,” my friend sighed. “He came along and filled a really big void in your life.”
I wrinkled my brow at her. “What’s that supposed to mean, madam psychologist?”
She snickered at the title. “It means you’re one of the nicest and sweetest girls I’ve ever met but also one of the saddest and loneliest.”
At my sharp expulsion of air, she held up a hand, frowning slightly. “I’m trying to make a point here, so give me a sec. You’ve got me as a friend, of course, and that’s totally amazing. Plus you have a lot of cool, albeit slightly less amazing other friends, but that’s not what I’m talking about either. You crave something we can’t give you — a family life. Hold up!” she snapped when I tried to interrupt her again. “You can throw rotten tomatoes at me when I’m through.”
She was hitting a raw nerve, and she knew it. “Seriously, Grace, does your father even know your dating Stellan?”
I blinked.
“Exactly. You’re an only child, and your father is gone, like all the time. I’ve never understood it. Other military fathers and mothers come and go with deployments and such, but your father stays gone.”
“Bax is military intelligence!” I sputtered. “He works undercover. A lot.”
“I know.” Her voice was sadly empathetic. “When was the last time you saw him, sweetie?”
“About four months ago, I think.”
“Uh-huh. Right about the time you and Stellan hooked up. Like I said, I bet they haven’t even met each other yet.”
“No. They haven’t.” I sighed. “I’m worried about that, too.”
“You should be. Or at least Stellan should be.”
We both dissolved into giggles. My dad, Colonel Baxter Livingston, had a way of striking terror into the average observer. He alternated between shaving his head and wearing a mean-looking buzz cut. Beyond that, he was all sunbaked and hard angles. He also possessed a piercing gaze that seemed to miss nothing.
A tiny little voice in my head told me Stellan could hold his own just fine with my father, though.
“And you see nothing wrong with being on a first name basis with your father, do you?”
I shrugged. “Our relationship is…complicated.” One of the ways I’d coped with a father who was always gone was by not expecting too much of him or letting him get too close. He was careful to show up for my biggest events — birthdays and Christmas, mainly. And I had no doubt he would attend my graduation ceremony, but he didn’t stick around for much of the day-to-day stuff. He provided a roof over my head and a generous stream of funds for groceries, clothing, necessities, and school supplies. He also had instigated a short list of non-negotiable rules that I was careful to abide by, since each of them was made with my safety in mind. Other than that, we operated as little more than distant friends. I’d called him Bax for years, and neither he nor Mother had ever bothered to correct me.
“Yeah, it is,” Antjie agreed. “Then there’s your absent mother, though God knows that’s nobody’s fault.”
“Ant, enough. Please?” The tears I’d been trying to hold back stung at the backs of my lids like a swarm of bees. My Aunt Jillian in Texas had offered more than once for me to come stay with her after her sister’s death. It would have been nice to have a mother figure back in my life, but I had mixed feelings about trying to adjust to a new authority figure when I was this close to graduating and being on my own anyway. Bax and I had travelled there to spend Christmas with her. Despite her repeated offers for me to stay, I had decided to return to Germany to graduate high school.
“I’m almost finished, sweetie. I promise.”
But I had already heard enough. “I hate it that she didn’t live long enough to see me graduate.” The words tore out of me on a sob. “She came so close, Antjie. One measly year.”
“Aw, Grace!” My friend leaped up to grab a fistful of tissues from the box on my antique white dresser. “Here.” She stuffed them in my outstretched hands and sat on the edge of my bed next to me. “I’m about to make the major point I’ve been working up to.” She spread her hands as if to encompass my entire bedroom. “This is your life. Your not-so-easy life, and this is what Stellan stepped into when he started dating you. And in the middle of this not-so easy life of yours, he managed to make you happy again for the first time since…well, since I met you three years ago. And that, my friend, is the source of your anxiety. He’s been an emotional lifeline of sorts, and you’re afraid of losing that.”
Of course, I was afraid of losing him! He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and the people I loved had a habit of moving away (thanks to the military), staying away (in my father’s case), or dying (in Mother’s case). I cleared my throat and dabbed at my eyes with the backs of my hands. “Do you think my relationship with him is unhealthy?”
“Heck, no!” She glared at me. “Haven’t you heard I word I said? I said he makes you happy.”
“Yes, he does.” I sniffed and blew gustily into a tissue. “And I still have no idea what to do next. What to say. How to move forward with him.”
She arched her eyebrows at me. “How about no longer treating him like a lifeline? It’s okay to let go of him a little. As in, quit holding on so tight. You won’t drown, because I promise you he’s not going anywhere.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”
“Ask for his address already, for heaven’s sake. Invite him to our graduation. So he’s not naturally talkative? Make him talk. Let him know you’re about to attend college in the U.S. and will be leaving Germany soon. You’re not the only one facing risks here. He is, too. The risk of losing you!” Her voice grew dreamy. “He’ll talk, sweetie. Trust me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Like a guy who has no intention of letting you go. Ever!”
I smiled at her, greatly mollified to hear something reassuring at last. “You think?”
“Oh, yeah. I think.”
I rolled over to sit up. I gathered up my wad of used tissues and moved across the room to dump them in the trashcan. Then I hurried into the adjoining bathroom to wash my hands. When I returned, I leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s decided then. I’m going to quit acting like a paranoid wreck and ask my boyfriend to attend our graduation.”
She grinned. “You’re welcome.”
I took special care with my appearance before our next date. No, that wasn’t really true. I always took special care with my appearance when Stellan and I were going out, but tonight was extra special in the fact it could be a turning point in our relationship. An opportunity to open up a conversation about the future. Our future. Together, I hoped.
The nights were typically several degrees cooler, even on the hottest days here in Germany, so I dressed in layers. I donned black jeans and knee-high black leather boots, a scoop neck white t-shirt, and a denim vest. Then I accessorized with a pink, white, and black checkered infinity scarf and silver jewelry. I combed my hair but that was about it, since it was easier to wear a bike helmet with it down. I also rarely wore much makeup around Stellan. He was only going to kiss it off anyway. I blushed at the thought.
He rumbled up on his bike at the crack of nine and handed me a helmet. “You look hot.”
>
I smiled my thanks, snapped the clasp beneath my chin, and hopped on. I leaned forward and slid my arms around him, glorying in the scent of his aftershave and nearness of him. He gave my clasped hands a squeeze and revved the engine.
We cruised around for awhile on the bike trails that ran along the city streets. Instead of veering off on one of the roads leading to the country, however, this time Stellan drove through the old, cobblestoned section of Kaiserslautern. We bumped along for a few minutes on streets packed with pedestrians and humming with nightlife. He parked in front of a streetside cafe lit by strands of white lights swaying in the breeze. An array of outdoor tables and cushioned chairs were snugly packed end to end on the patio. Hurricane lanterns flickered on the center of each table next to short crystal vases bearing miniature red and white roses.
A male waiter in a white shirt and merlot colored vest met us at the low-gated entrance.
Stellan nodded at him. “We have a reservation for two. Name is Romolov.”
The waiter checked his notepad and led us to one of the front tables overlooking the street.
I took the seat in the chair Stellan held out for me. “Well, this is unexpected.” It was past nine o’clock, so I’d already eaten dinner. Hours ago. Come to think of it, we’d never enjoyed a real meal together. Probably because Stellan worked such long hours, and I had so much studying and dancing to practice every evening. We pretty much dated after dark.
It was if he read my thoughts. He took the seat across from me and reached for one of my hands. “We always meet so late. I’ve never had the chance to properly wine and dine you.”
“This is nice,” I admitted, admiring the centerpiece of roses. The hurricane lantern lent a warm, cozy feeling to the atmosphere despite the cool night breeze wafting over us. “But I’m not very hungry.”
“Me neither. Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy some wine with our roses, though.”
“It’s perfect.” I squeezed his cool fingers. “Besides, it will give us the chance to talk. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
His expression grew guarded. “This is about your graduation, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” My heart sank at his response. So he was aware my graduation was approaching. Had he purposely been avoiding talking about it? I bit my lower lip, trying to remember Antjie’s sage advice, something about taking the plunge and asking him already. I drew a bracing breath and summoned my brightest smile. “It would mean a lot to me if you could be there.” There. I’d finally invited him. Antjie would be proud.
He reached for my other hand. “There’s nothing I want more than to be there for you, Grace. Always.” He looked down at our entwined fingers.
My chest constricted further. “But?” I could tell there was more, and it wasn’t going to be good.
“My Uncle Anatoly needs me to run some cargo up the harbor for him. I’ll have to be out of town that whole weekend.”
I had no words, nothing but overwhelming disappointment rising in my throat.
“He’s no longer in the best of health, though he won’t admit it. He’s been fighting my plans to go to medical school tooth and nail. Wants to eventually turn over his shipping business to me. He’s one of those men who married his career and never had a family. You might say I’m all he’s got.”
It was hard to argue that. I, better than most people, understood what it meant to cope with an ailing loved one. That didn’t make his refusal of my invitation any easier to accept, though.
I was crushed. Completely crushed. Death had cheated my mother of her chance to be at my graduation, and now Stellan wasn’t going to make it either. It would be just Bax and me. Again. I turned my face away, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears. No such luck. They gushed out, blasting hot and scalding trails down my cheeks.
“Forgive me, Grace! I’m such a monster for breaking the news to you this way.”
I didn’t really see Stellan move. All I know is he ended up on my side of the table with me in his lap. My head was tucked beneath his chin. He stroked my hair while I cried silently against his chest.
He waited until some of the storm in me subsided before he spoke. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you’ll give me the chance.” His voice was hoarse with regret. “Please tell me this doesn’t end things between us, Grace. I couldn’t bear it.”
“End things?” I choked, sitting up and dashing my hands across slick cheeks. “I’m not breaking up with you over this. I’m just really disappointed.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Sorry for being so emotional about it.” Wow! I had really lost it for a few minutes there. What he must think of me to cry like a baby over a bit of bad news.
He reached up with both hands to cradle my damp face in his hands.
I opened my eyes to see a world of self-recrimination in his.
“I’m the only one who has any reason to be sorry, Grace. For not being there for you the way you deserve. For hurting you like this. Every tear you cried was my fault. Each one of them like a knife in my chest. And yet,” He grimaced and looked away. “The sight of them gives me hope.”
I gave an incredulous laugh. “Hope?” What an odd thing to say!
“Yes. Crazy as it sounds.” He dropped his forehead against mine. I welcomed the cool touch of his skin against my overheated, overwrought flesh. “I think, or at least I hope, your tears mean you’re falling for me at least a little bit the way I’ve already fallen for you.”
I caught my breath. “Falling.” My voice shook. “That sounds painful.”
“Yes, Grace. Apparently, love can be very painful.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Agonizing sometimes.” His voice dwindled to a whisper.
Love! I sat back a little in order to meet his gaze. “You love me?”
He gazed back tenderly. “Very much, Grace.” Even though I’d been the one crying, his eyes were starting to look a little red-rimmed, as if he too was close to crying. “I love you more than I ever dreamed possible.”
Oh. Wow! Stellan loved me. I lowered my forehead to his again, plunging shaking fingers in his hair and just breathing in his amazing scent. I was pretty sure I would never get enough of his taste and scent and nearness. I craved him the way I craved every breath I was forced to take to stay alive.
“So am I right?” he whispered against my mouth.
“About?” I whispered, too dazed to make sense of what he was saying.
“Do you feel the same way?”
“Yes,” I breathed. Oh, yes!
“Would you say the words then, please?”
“I love you, Stellan.”
Grace
Graduation day dawned overcast, according to the dim light seeping past my half-raised window shade. I raised it the rest of the way and squinted at the sky, but it was hard to see much past the fog. I unlocked the hinge and pushed open the sash to lean out a few inches. There was a greenish-yellow glow overhead, and it smelled like rain. Not the most promising weather for an outdoor ceremony.
I padded down the tile stairs in my pink plaid PJ's and fuzzy pink socks. Despite their skid soles, I held on to the railing for extra measure. We lived in one of the townhouses on base. It was a three-bedroom, two-story that still smelled faintly of fresh paint. Probably because I was pretty much the only person who lived here, so most of the rooms didn't get much use other than the occasional dusting and vacuuming I gave them. It still amazed me that someone had seen fit to install slippery, tile stairs in government housing. No doubt it was easier to clean between tenants, but it would be equally easy to go flying down them and crack my head.
I rounded the landing in the middle and started my way down the last half flight. A hulking shadow waiting at the bottom tore a scream from me. "Bax! When did you get home?"
He galloped up the stairs three at a time to catch me when I tottered on the landing. He swung me the rest of the way down the stairs and set me on my feet at the bottom. "Middle of the night. You look all aglow. Excited about your graduation,
huh?"
"Definitely," I lied. Ha! If I was glowing, I was fairly sure it had a lot more to do with the fact Stellan had dropped the L-word on me last night, but I could roll with the graduation explanation.
It was good to see Bax again. He was nearly as tall as Stellan in his khaki cargo pants and one of those ridiculous button-up cotton shirts he favored. It wasn't that I had anything against button-up cotton shirts, but Bax's collection was more than a little mortifying. He bought them all over the world in every zany pattern imaginable. The more offbeat or raunchy, the more he liked them. Mating elephants, mooning Santas, that sort of thing. This morning's pattern seemed on the tame side for his tastes. Frivolous pink flamingos danced across his broad shoulders in striking contract to his leathery tanned, harsh-angled, not-so-frivolous features. So much for my assumption about the tame shirt pattern. On closer inspection, every other bird had its middle talon raised.
"Nice shirt," I noted sarcastically.
"You like it, eh?" he chuckled.
"Seriously?" I raised a brow at him.
"Yeah, you do. That's my girl." He held me at arm's length and grinned down at me some more. "I still can't believe you're all grown up. When did that happen?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.
One day at a time, not that you were here for most of them. I bit my lower lip to keep from saying something I would regret. "Just promise me you're not going to wear that thing to my graduation."
"Are you kidding? I'll be in uniform." He slung an arm around my shoulders and led me to the kitchen. "Go on and settle your pretty pink fuzzy self down at the bistro while I cook us up some breakfast."
I usually skipped breakfast. "But—"
"Nope. I insist." Bax rattled around our small square kitchen work area, pulling out ingredients and a griddle. In a few minutes, he had pancakes and bacon going.
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