It was after I got back home that I started to worry about how I was going to tell everyone. I couldn’t just disappear for a month with no explanation, and had no idea how to do this. I was afraid of what everyone’s reaction would be once they knew my secret. They may not understand. And, for me, it felt like a gigantic leap of faith to step from behind my fortress of deception and reveal the real me. My super cape would fall, my defenses would be lowered, and there would be no glass walls to hide behind. The thought alone was enough to reconsider the plan I was setting in motion.
My eyes landed on my memory box. It wasn’t anything new. It had been sitting on my dresser in the same place for years. The cedar box had been a birthday present from my parents the year I turned seven. Since our birthdays were a month apart, they had gotten one for me and one for my sister with our names engraved on small metal plates on the outside.
I walked to the dresser and picked up the box, carried it to my bed, and opened it. Inside, on the lid, was another metal plate…“A treasure box for one of our treasures. We love you so much. Love, Mom and Dad.” I swallowed the tears that were clawing their way to the surface.
I picked up a few photographs of me and my sister and one of my parents. They were burned around the edges, although you could still see all of our faces. The fire had been much worse on one side of our house and the firefighters had put it out before it completely consumed my room or Grace’s room. The day after the fire, neighbors came and went through what was left and brought out anything that was salvageable. Grace and I both still had our treasure boxes and we divided up the few photos that were in decent condition, along with a few other small mementos. One of which I picked up and held in my hands…a small pink bible, another gift from my parents. I opened the cover and saw Mom’s handwriting, and another shard of loss ricocheted through my heart, bouncing around inside, with no place to escape. The tears welled up again and this time I let them fall.
I flipped through the pages, remembering Sundays when we would all get up early and Dad would cook breakfast. He always made us chocolate chip pancakes with crispy bacon on Sundays. Afterward, we would get dressed up and leave for church. I loved going to my Sunday school class and hearing all of the stories, singing songs about Jesus. I hadn’t been back to church since my parents died. My adoptive parents didn’t go to church and by the time I was old enough to drive myself, I was certain that God had forgotten all about me.
I flipped back to the inside cover. Under my name my mom had written a verse:
Isaiah 41:10 “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
I read and reread that verse over and over, letting the words caress my fractured soul. And for the first time since I was a little girl, I prayed. I prayed for strength and direction. I came out on the other side of that prayer feeling stronger. I could do this. My parents were in heaven. Grace said so and I believed her. Maybe God hadn’t forgotten about me after all.
I closed the memory box and placed it back on the dresser, however, I kept the pink bible on my nightstand. I rummaged around and found a notebook and began writing. After the letter was finished I put down my pen and picked up the phone. I punched in the number, and after the fourth ring someone picked up.
“Hello?” said Ms. Sophie.
Hayden
A few days had gone by and Beth seemed to have a lot on her mind. She wasn’t distant, her mind just drifted off at times. Yesterday I had brought Annie over to Beth’s house because I liked watching Annie and Beth together. It also gave Molly a much needed break. And anyone could see how Beth and Annie embraced each other’s company. Annie liked it when Beth would play with her hair and compliment her shoes. Annie had a favorite pair of red sparkly shoes, like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. She would click her heels together three times and say, “There’s no place like home,” and giggle. She twirled, danced, and even sang “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” while Beth and I encouraged her theatrics.
Later, Annie had dozed off watching Sleeping Beauty. Her head was in Beth’s lap and her legs were stretched out over mine. Beth stroked Annie’s blonde hair while I took off her sparkly shoes and covered her legs with a throw that was draped over the back of the couch. Right before Annie fell asleep she mumbled, “I like it here.”
Beth smiled. “I like having you here.”
My heart swelled. The two most important girls in my life that I loved beyond reason were together, with me, and all I wanted to do was freeze time so we could stay like that forever.
“Tomorrow,” I said, “I want to take you to dinner. Last time I tried to take you to dinner we left before we were even seated. I want to make it up to you.”
With a lopsided grin, Beth said, “You did make it up to me. You fed me pizza under the stars.”
“You liked that?”
“I loved it,” Beth said. “Best plan B in the history of plan Bs.”
“I’m glad I managed to salvage our first date. I would still like to give plan A another shot, though. Beth Covington, would you do me the honor of going on another date with me?” I covered my hand over my heart. “Pleassse?”
Beth gazed lovingly at Annie, and then answered with a chuckle, “I can’t say no when you’re practically begging.”
I fist bumped the air. “Yes!”
“You’re being a dork.”
“A dork with a hot date,” I responded, waggling my eyebrows at her.
I knocked on Beth’s door and when she opened it, I was at a loss for words. She was dressed in a soft pink dress that hugged her curves, flowed out at the hips, and draped to her knees. Her hair fell around her heart-shaped face and traveled down her back in soft curls. Her makeup was understated, natural, and everything about her screamed quiet sophistication. She was beautiful and she didn’t even know it, which made her more beautiful to me. She didn’t dress to get attention, but that was what got my attention. I loved that about her. She was feminine in the most alluring way, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from throwing her over my shoulder and claiming her like I’d wanted to do since I met her.
I reached for her hand instead. She tucked her hand in mine, palm against palm, and I led her down her front steps.
“You look beautiful,” I said, squeezing her hand once, and releasing it in order to open the door for her.
“Thank you.”
After she climbed in, I closed her door and made my way around to my side of the truck. I had my iPod plugged in, and when I backed out of her driveway and onto the street, ‘Do I Wanna Know’ by the Arctic Monkeys began playing. She bobbed her head and tapped her fingers in beat with the music. About halfway into the song, I began singing the lyrics to her. The corners of her mouth quirked up, her eyes closed, and she leaned her head against the headrest.
By the time we got to the restaurant, several songs had played out, and still neither of us had engaged in actual conversation. The music was enough for us for the moment, and occasionally, I would belt out the words to whatever song had been playing because it made her laugh. I was purposely singing off key, and she kept turning up the music louder and louder to drown me out. Now that I was holding her hand and walking her inside, I was more than ready to talk to her about anything and everything.
“Party of two?” the hostess asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Right this way.” She grabbed two menus and led us to a table in the far corner. She placed both menus over the plates that were already on the table, and I pulled the chair out for Beth. I could tell that Beth was scanning the restaurant, checking out all of the other tables, with a concerned look on her face.
After I seated myself, the hostess said, “Your server will be with you shortly.”
When the hostess had walked away, Beth leaned in and whispered, “There’s no one else here.”
I peered all around, leaned forward, mimicking her concern, and w
hispered back, “I know.”
“Why?” she asked, still whispering.
“I don’t know. It’s weird isn’t it?”
She nodded. “You think we should check the health rating before we order? Maybe everyone else knows something we don’t.”
“Don’t worry. This place is clean.” I laughed. “It’s safe. I saw their health rating when we walked in. Now,” I opened my menu and scanned it briefly, “would you like an appetizer?”
“I don’t think so. A glass of wine before dinner would be nice, though.”
Closing my menu, I signaled to the maître d’ that we were ready to order. I ordered a bottle of wine, which we sipped casually while we shared bread and absorbed ourselves in conversation. Later, we each had steak with grilled asparagus.
I had just taken a bite of my steak when Beth said, “All this time I’ve been pretending that we’re famous and you reserved the restaurant for the evening so we wouldn’t be harassed by paparazzi.” She laughed and dabbed the napkin to her mouth. “I can’t believe we’re still the only ones here.”
I chewed slowly, watching her. “Go on,” I prompted.
“What do you mean?”
“If we’re famous, who would I be?”
“Oh, that’s easy. You’re a famous musician.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m definitely an actress,” she said with a wink.
“How did we meet?”
“Well,” she said, “I saw you in concert, and because my last movie made millions at the box office, I could afford the tickets and a backstage pass. After the concert, my entourage surrounded me, you know, to keep the autograph seekers at arm’s length, and I made it safely to your dressing room where I got to meet you. It was quite a thrill.”
I grinned. “So you were thrilled to meet me?”
“Oh, I meant it was a thrill for you. It was cute, the way you stuttered and stammered and basically begged for me to sign your t-shirt. I must say it was also a tad embarrassing, seeing all the pictures of me you’d torn out of teen magazines and gossip rags plastered on the dressing room mirror and the back of the door. I was gracious nevertheless. ”
My eyebrows arched, amused. Beth sat back and folded her arms across her chest, trying to not to smirk…or laugh.
She did both.
“Makes total sense that I would be thrilled to meet you,” I laughed. “You sound amazing! Maybe one of these days you’ll be thrilled to have met me, too.”
She stopped laughing and stared at me pointedly. “You don’t think I’m thrilled to have met you?”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then you really should be an actress, because for the last several months you’ve been anything but thrilled.”
“Hayden...”
“It’s okay, Beth. I understand. I’m sorry…I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” Wanting to salvage the moment I switched gears. “Your scenario was completely on point, you know. I’d admired you from afar, via paparazzi photographs in questionable magazines, somehow keeping it under the radar until we met face to face. I already knew so many things about you, things other people would never have picked up on unless they were private detectives or professional stalkers.”
“What things?” she asked, her smile returning.
“You love old movies. Breakfast at Tiffany’s is your favorite. You watch I Love Lucy marathons in your pajamas. You love chocolate, and hate vanilla. English was your favorite subject. Caffeine makes you jittery, so you only indulge in one cup of coffee in the mornings. You hate candy corn, even though Halloween is your favorite holiday. And the Maxwell House commercial where the soldier comes home to surprise his sister makes you cry. Every time.” I pushed my plate to the side and laced my fingers together. “I told you, I paid attention to everything about you.”
A tear slid down Beth’s cheek and she let her eyes fall to the napkin in front of her.
The maître d’ cleared his throat, “Can I get you two anything else?”
Beth hadn’t eaten much. I witnessed maybe three or four actual bites, the rest of the time she moved the food around on her plate, so I saw no point in asking her if she wanted dessert.
“No,” I said, “just the check, please.”
“Certainly.” He slipped the check to me, and without even looking at the bill, I handed him my credit card.
Once he was out of sight, Beth looked up with a smile that flickered like an old silent film. “You spend a lot of time alone with your thoughts,” she said. “You love candy corn. Christmas is your favorite holiday. You love comedies. You also like war movies. Saving Private Ryan is your favorite. You hate disco, but love all other types of music, including jazz. You’re kind to everyone, but you have no patience for rude people. You only eat ketchup with fries. And when you were little you wanted to be a cowboy.” Her eyes lifted and she searched my face like she was cataloguing every feature. “I listened to every word you ever said to me, too. And when you weren’t looking, I was also paying attention.”
If I wasn’t sitting down she would have certainly knocked me on my ass. I smiled triumphantly. I imagine it may have resembled the sun when it broke over the horizon. That’s how I felt anyway…like glowing sunlight.
“You think I’m kind to everyone?”
“Yes.”
“I wish you could be my shadow for a day. You’d get a kick out of the lengths I go to in order to avoid asking a follow up question when someone makes a comment that begs for one.”
“Like what?”
“Okay, for example…the other day, a guy I work with started talking to me about his vehicle and how if he could get his record deal then he could add a roll cage. It was obvious he wanted me to inquire about his music aspirations, but I had no desire to hear about said aspirations, so I kindly excused myself and told him I needed to get back to work.”
Beth chuckled. “Well, at least you weren’t rude. You were still polite.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so. It’s one of the things I like about you. Plus, you’ve been very patient with me.” Beth looked away, suddenly becoming shy.
“Here you are sir,” the maître d’ said, handing me back my card and the slip for me to sign.
I signed it, stood from the table, and reached for Beth’s hand. “You ready?” She placed her hand in mine.
Once we were back in the truck I said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For all the things you said. For noticing me. For paying attention to me.”
“I’ve always paid attention to you, Hayden.” She swallowed nervously. “You…uh…whenever you would lean in to whisper something in my ear… I couldn’t breathe. I literally couldn’t breathe. You made me dizzy. You made me feel like I had tunnel vision. Everything else in the room would fade to black and the only thing I could see was you. I never thought I would be brave enough to ever admit that to you.” She offered me a shaky smile. I pulled her to me and wrapped my arms around her. My heart felt like it would leap right out of my chest. I felt so many things in that moment. Love, awe, desire, but mostly I was proud. Proud of her.
“You are brave, sweetheart.” I squeezed her tighter and nuzzled the space between her ear and her collarbone, breathing her in.
Oh how I could live here if she would let me.
We stayed like that for quite some time. I didn’t want to let her go. In a few short days she had drawn the curtains back, letting the light shine in, allowing me to see her. All of her. And it only made me love her more. Eventually, Beth pulled back, squeezed my hand, and sat back on her side. I started the truck and we drove, once again, in comfortable silence.
When we pulled up to her house I said, “I have a confession to make.”
Beth hesitated first, and then asked, “What is it?”
“I reserved the restaurant for the evening. That’s why there was no one else there tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I wanted a quiet dinner…no interruptions. I wanted you to feel comfortable.”
“Wow, so you can afford to do that? Rent out an entire restaurant like that?”
“Look, I don’t go around flaunting money, and I don’t spend much of it, especially on frivolous things. Only on important things, like Annie’s surgery, and yeah, if I can make you feel at ease…” I shrugged, “it was money well spent.” An easy grin slid across my lips and I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Besides, I couldn’t let plan A go up in flames again.”
Beth shook her head and smiled. I loved her smiles. “I don’t deserve you,” she said tilting her head towards her house. “Would you like to come in?”
“I would, although I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m…uh… trying to honor the no kissing thing, and if I don’t leave right now, I’ll kiss you. I know that for sure. So I need you to tell me goodnight and go inside.” I had to grit my teeth to keep myself in my seat.
Go inside. Please.
She stared at me for several heartbeats. Then, she slowly brought her hand up and caressed my face. I leaned into her palm and closed my eyes, counting the breaths I took. One, two, three, four…
Skin Deep Page 12
