Love in the Time of Cynicism

by Jani Berghuis

  “Only when you do things like this,” he moans softly. He kisses the top of my head, pulls away, and says almost too-enthusiastically, “I can’t wait for our date tonight. It’s going to be fantastic.”

  “It better be, after all this hype,” I joke. Then I glance at the clock and grin. “You prepared to go trick-or-treating?”

  At five fifteen, Tannis’s young suitor Jeremy arrives bearing flowers and chocolate bought from a drug store with his weekly allowance. Seriously. The kid’s thirteen and knows how to treat a woman better than most grown men. This kid’s going places. Tannis squeals as Rhett watches disapprovingly from the corner. Mr. Tressler makes his way home around six thirty, right as the sun’s going down and the Halloween vibe finally takes over. He shakes hands with Jeremy the Boyfriend and tells the kid to be good to his little girl before wrapping Sawyer, Evan, and Ethan in a great big hug and retreating for his evening radio show. This will be the first radio show Rhett and I haven’t listened to together but, hopefully, tonight will be better than the intangible space of phone calls.

  Between the hours of seven and nine, Rhett and I lead a young Batman and Robin around with Charles Darwin, who has to explain to almost every well-meaning parent that he isn’t Abraham Lincoln without the hat. It’s adorable how dedicated Sawyer is to the costume. He details the theory of evolution to me for a good half hour between candy stops and I listen like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard and not something I spent a year groaning over in ninth grade science. I learn that, appropriately, Sawyer wants to be a scientist and the twins want to be superheroes, though they argue mindlessly over who the sidekick will be once they get powers for real. Ethan, the elder, argues he has first born rights while Evan protests, citing his strength and speed as benefits for fighting crime and evil. I’m paraphrasing, of course, but the conversation is pretty riveting for one shared between generally incoherent four year olds on their first Halloween spree.

  Perhaps the best part of trick-or-treating, as expected, is Rhett. The entire time, he’s bumping into me and teasing me and flirting and smiling in the way nobody else can. He’s put on a fake mustache for the sake of his younger brother’s and everything he says is ten times more hilarious.

  When we bring the boys back home around nine fifteen, the twins collapse into their mother’s arms. Susie’s come home early to see them off to bed and to get me and Rhett off babysitting duty. Before taking the boys to their room, she looks purposefully at Rhett and says, “Not too late, alright?”

  “No promises,” he replies with a wink in my direction.

  “Be careful,” she goes on, then grimaces, “with, you know, whatever. And have fun.”

  On our way out, Tannis gives me a pointed look, pulls me down to her level, and says, “Remember what I told you this morning. About how to tell when he loves you. He’ll impress you, and he’ll take care of you. I expect a status report next time we talk.”

  “Will do, captain.”

  Chapter Thirteen – Stars Collide

  Rhett takes me on his motorcycle to a corn maze erected half an hour from town where the Eleora River starts feeding into the Orfeo. When we park after a long drive of bumpy roads, it’s on a gravel parking lot and the rocks bite into the soles of my shoes. The air is warmer than I thought it would be, perfect for night time.

  “A corn maze.” I laugh, “For real?”

  “What?” He scoffs, “You don’t like corn mazes?”

  “Never been to one,” I admit as Rhett procures two tickets from his leather jacket’s pocket and hands them to a man collecting under an archway. There’s a pavilion bathed in yellow light, the only light for miles around. A crowd of teenagers, mostly, loiters under the roof, waiting for a man to give instructions and release them into the maze. Rhett and I mingle within them, not speaking but connected in so many unspoken ways. His fingers lace into mine and my shoulder brushes his chest.

  At a table toward the front of the cement pavilion, there’s a group of volunteers giving our bright green wristbands and maps. Once we’ve successfully shoved our way through the crowd, we hold our wrists out and are given bands. I shove the map into the back pocket of my jeans and excitement begins to bubble up inside me. I could care less where we are. The fact is, I’m with Rhett, here and now, and that makes it perfect.

  I have to admit though, that when Rhett leans close to one of the volunteers and says, “I’d like to pick up my package under ‘Tressler,’” my curiosity peaks. When he’s handed a stuffed backpack full of god knows what, my interest has reached a maximum.

  I stand on my tiptoes to try at a better angle as he hoists the bag onto his back. Planning has gone into this corn maze excursion, I see. Slightly wary but mostly excited to be here with him, I narrow my eyes and ask, “What’s going on?”

  “Only the grandest of surprises,” he promises as he squeezes my fingers in his. “Trust me?”

  “Always.”

  An ancient, pot-bellied man in stirrups and a cowboy hat sporting a bushy, squirrel-sized, merv-style mustache steps in front of the crowd and clears his throat. There’s no microphone, but his booming voice projects over us well enough without one. “Alright, youngsters, settle down. The maze, my pride and joy, is moved over four acres of land which, for you city folks, is quite a bit. There are twelve checkpoints and anyone who gets all twelve stamped onto your map gets free food for the rest of the night. Now, It’s damn easy to get lost so please use your maps and don’t sue when your sorry ass is stuck somewhere in the middle because you were too stupid to look at your map.” He sighs heavily because, presumably, too many people have sued his lowly corn maze. Then, he gives us one last squint and barks, “Get going.”

  Rhett tugs on my hand urgently and leads me to the entrance of the maze.

  “What’s the game plan?” Always one for order, I ask, “Are we getting the checkpoints or romping around for the hell of it?”

  “Neither.” He smirks wickedly and replies, “Follow me. And trust me.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Hell, most likely,” he laughs deeply. Then he takes off running and weaving his way through other groups and couples. As noted during the hopping-fences episode, I am by no means a runner. But when your boyfriend takes off through a corn maze and he’s your ride home, what else is a girl to do? My feet thud against the (slightly muddy) dirt as he sprints ahead of me without waiting.

  After a few minutes of torturous racing, I’m about twenty feet behind him when Rhett decide we’ve run far enough and stops. He grins, face illuminated by a flashlight that’s shown up out of nowhere. The boy is more prepared than I thought. “You alright?”

  “Dandy,” I wheeze. After a minute, I’ve caught my breath and stare at him. We’re surrounded on all sides, shockingly, by corn. We’ve run far enough and fast enough that there are no other people in sight and time freezes around us. As I’m tilting my head up to look Rhett in the eyes, I notice he’s watching the sky and follow his gaze with my own. While the sky’s as beautiful as it usually is once you get far enough from town, there’s nothing overly spectacular about it, but Rhett peers over the moon and stars like he’s never seen anything quite so wonderful. His golden eyes are soft brown in the darkness and I’m lost in them as he is in the starts.

  After a while, Rhett looks down at me and says, “Almost time.”

  “For what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Sarcastically, I tell him, “This cryptic bullshit is harshing my vibe, Tressler.”

  Secretly, though, I love the feeling of piecing together what’s happening and, more than anything, knowing he spent time, at some point, putting an elaborate scheme in place for me. Only for me. He makes me feel special like nobody’s ever bothered, and that alone leaves me thinking about tonight. About how I think I’ve finally gotten up the guts to tell him, once and for all, that I love him. That I’m in love with him and how insanely awesome that feels. Like my soul’s on fire and igniting at the
same time as if it might take flight at any moment. It’s stupid and girlish and wonderful in the same moment.

  He throws an arm around my shoulder and says, “Give it a minute or so. Everything’ll make sense then. For now, we walk.”

  So we do, talking about anything and nothing and everything as time passes imperceptibly around us. Neither of us brought a phone or watch, so it’s only the two of us and the moon marking the passage of time. For me, the minutes we go through the corn maze, words passing between us naturally enough you’d think we’d known one another a life time, are frozen and whole as they etch themselves into my memory.

  After we’ve walked a while without looking at the map, Rhett smiles broadly and says, “Still trust me?”

  “You don’t need to ask.” I roll my eyes. “I’d trust you off the edge of cliff.”

  “You might have to,” he replies coyly and my eyes pop wide open at how serious he is.

  He reaches for my hand but I realize how sweaty my palms are. Because I’m gross and slightly nervous, I wipe them on my pants and he laughs at me. “Sorry.”

  “Totally fine,” he replies, still laughing through his words. He takes my hand anyway and leads my not through the cleanly mowed lines of the corn maze but into the corn itself. As he smacks stalks out of my way, I begin to notice that every few feet there are painted ears of corn. Flaming orange as well, very visible in the night. A sneaking suspicion hints that Rhett did this, made a small path for the two of us to trek though on our way to the location of our mystery date.

  And when the line of dead and dying corn high as my head breaks suddenly, my jaw drops so fast I nearly have to catch it.

  We’ve walked onto a wide cliff jutting over the basin of the river. Suddenly the stars are alight and breathtaking, reflected off the rippling water with daring intensity as they swirl together in streams of light and color. Far off, Lightfoot sits on the shore of the river and I finally understand why they called it that in the first place. Yellowing houselights hover in the purple night, clustered against one another and drenched with sky. The town is glowing like a soul on fire and the horizon begs for its light. The moment my eyes leave Lightfoot, though, it’s pitch black on the pier and only Rhett is there with me. We’re alone, far away from any worries and obligations.

  “This is amazing,” I breathe softly, afraid a loud voice would break open this night.

  Rhett’s thumb trails over my cheek and he says, “I wish you could see yourself right now, with the moonlight on your skin and the stars in your eyes. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  I bite my lip, unsure what to say. Nobody calls me beautiful the way he does, nobody makes me feel beautiful like he does. Luckily, Rhett swings the backpack off his back before I have to speak. First, he throws a dark fleece blanket over the ground and tells me to sit because the wind’ll blow it away. I oblige and drag my hands over the soft fabric. I watch as he places a small boom box on the blanket, followed by two warm silver thermoses and two plastic bags. When he hands me one of the thermoses, I unscrew it and smell what’s inside. The scent, familiar and wonderful, is recognizable after half a second of thought. Caramel macchiato. The drink I made him the first day we met, because it’s my favorite. Then I move to the baggie and grin madly. Cotton candy, blue and pink and spun into clouds.

  I’m smiling like a four year old discovering chocolate as Rhett hits a button on the boom box and a laugh parts my lips. The soundtrack to The Breakfast Club floats between us and he sits cross-legged in front of me so our knees barely touch. He shrugs off his jacket and takes a sip from his own thermos.

  “Rhett, are you trying to tell me anything?” I gesture to the scene around us. “About our relationship, maybe?”

  “What could you possibly mean?”

  I think about what Tannis told me this morning and reply, “Nothing. I’m very impressed, that’s all.”

  “Good.” He’s pleased with himself, that much is obvious.

  “It’s our favorites,” I acknowledge. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “I’ve committed everything about you to memory up until this point. From the rich coffee-brown color of your eyes when I’m graced with being in your line of sight-” he kisses my forehead lightly and my heart flip-flops in my chest “-to the pattern of freckles on your hand-” his lips brush against my fingers “-and everything in between.” His hands run over my sides and back until my stomach is turning with the idea of kissing him.

  Tentatively, I reach for his hands and draw him closer as if he might say no. Our lips touch and everything inside me is set on fire. I love you, I tell him inwardly as my hands travel to his back and I pull myself forward so my legs are around his back, my chest to his. His lips push fervently against mine and I’m more alive than I’ve been in a long time out under the indigo sky. My heart thunders against my ribs as Rhett’s fingers clumsily find the top button of my blouse and he undoes it. Electricity pulses everywhere he touches and soon my whole body is alight with him. For the first time, I feel under the hem of his black shirt (which I now realize he wore simply because it’s my favorite) and allow the heat of his skin to warm my hands.

  His voice is deep and sensual as he speaks against my neck, “God, you drive me crazy.”

  Though he’s said a million times that I’m beautiful or gorgeous or amazing, he’s never told me anything like you drive me crazy. Barely anything to make me believe he could want more from me than what we already have. My heart jumps at the thought that maybe, more than maybe, he wants me the ways I want him.

  Caught up in something I can’t quite explain, for a brief moment, as Rhett kisses down my neck and sends me shivering against him, I glance up at the sky and stop everything.

  “Oh my god!” I exclaim, “Did you see that?”

  Rhett breaks away from my skin, sighs, and says, “I was a bit distracted, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  My eyes locked on a place far off on the sky, Rhett follows my gaze.

  Out of nowhere, a thousand twinkling stars rain down. They pierce across the dark sheet of night and blink out of existence as more take their place. The streaks of white shower down until I think they’ll fall into the lake and tear open the dark abyss below. I stand on my tip toes to get a better view. Wonder fills my lungs with every breath I take. The stars shatter overhead, breaking on the roof of the world and breathing across the horizon. A thunderstorm of glittering brilliance exploding in a few frozen moments.

  The palm of Rhett’s hand sits on the small of my back as he exhales, “Wow. Really, wow.”

  Then, quick as it had changed, the sky returns to its calm state and my brain buzzes with the energy of what we’ve just seen. My thoughts scatter and tumble over the ground.

  Rhett, surely facing the same bewildered admiration, takes a few steps closer to the edge of the cliff; we’re only about thirty feet up, but the drop seems vast and immense. His voice laces over my ears as Rhett makes a small request. “Let’s jump.”

  “What?!” I snap back to reality and stare at him gazing out over the water.

  “Let’s not even think about it.” He’s giddy with excitement and I’m standing there shocked. “Come on, Cordelia Kane, I know for a fact you aren’t as afraid of the world as you pretend to be.”

  That hits me and I step forward and press my hands against his chest. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Prove it,” he goads. “I’ll bet you ten dollars you’re too scared right now to even consider it.”

  I narrow my eyes, knowing this is a teasing provocation if anything. But something in me is screaming do it! and I can only obey. I whip off my scarf and hand it to Rhett. “Protect that with your life.”

  “Wait, what are you-?” When I begin unbuttoning my blouse, his mouth pops open a bit. “I wasn’t serious, you know. You don’t have to-”

  “Shut up, you’re going, too.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good-” But he’s standing there holding m
y clothes and I’m only wearing my bra and underwear and he’s reached the point where there’s no going back. He tries to look strictly at my eyes, the gentleman, as he says, “Fine. Let’s do this.” He strips down to his boxers (now I’m the one who has to concentrate on eye contact) and he cuts me a sideways glance and a wink. His voice is layered thick with flirtation as he says, “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “No promises.”

  He laughs out loud and asks, “Who’s going first?”

  I crack my knuckles in mock-confidence even though my hands are shaking and reply, “I’ll do it. My summer of lifeguarding has to pay off sometime; might as well be now.”

  “You were a lifeguard?” He’s impressed, by the looks of it, and my hands stay still – finally – as his faith in me rises. “Lifeguard’s are so hot.”

  “You have no idea,” I reply.

  Then, in an unexpected burst of boldness from deep within, I fling myself off the edge of the cliff. The drop is a split second and I manage to arc into a perfect dive. Air shoots past me as I plummet towards the black lake, not knowing how far or how fast I’ll have to fall before hitting the water. I can’t see anything or think with the adrenaline slamming through my veins at a million miles a second. The drop ends in one extraordinary instant when my hands slice through the chilling water. The river engulfs me, my body slipping in a pocket of coolness as it slows my speed.

  The river is colder than I’d expected with it so warm out and it’s frigid against my skin. The cold invigorates me, shocks my system, and I kick hard and fast to the surface, where I take in a huge gasp of air and flip my thick hair out of my face.

  My vision obscured with darkness and water, I don’t see Rhett jump. But I heard him plummet into the water a few feet from me and hear his voice when he shouts, “Holy fucking shit that was ridiculous!”

  He’s sputtering and brushing his hair out of his eyes when my eyes finally adjust enough for me to see him. We’re both treading the glacial water and I figure my legs are tired but too much adrenaline is coursing through me to think about it.