Needing Her

by Allie Everhart

  When he told me nobody had ever told him they love him, not even his parents, I almost cried. It broke my heart to know that he’s 25 and hasn’t heard those words until I spoke them just now.

  I’m starting to understand why Pearce has such sadness in his eyes. Such loneliness. Such pain. But I think it’s more than his family making him feel that way. I think there are other things too. I wish he would tell me what those things are, but he’s not ready to, or maybe he doesn’t want to. Maybe he doesn’t want to go back and relive whatever it was that put that sadness and loneliness in his eyes.

  “Hey.” I kiss his cheek and rest my head on his shoulder.

  He kisses my forehead. “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  He smiles. “I love you too.”

  “Let’s go eat. Then maybe we’ll come back here later and do this again.”

  He pulls me closer and kisses me. “Or we could just do it again right now.”

  “I’m starving. We need to refuel.” I push off him and climb out of bed. “And after that, I need to do some reading for class.”

  “Are you making me go home tonight?” He shoves the covers aside and gets up.

  “No. I want you here.”

  “Good.” He hugs me from behind and kisses the side of my neck. “Because I wasn’t leaving.”

  “Yeah, I assumed if you came over I wouldn’t be able to get rid of you.”

  His lips tickle my neck. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  I laugh and squeeze out of his arms.

  We get dressed, then go in the kitchen and reheat our dinner. Then we curl up on the couch together and read. I read my textbook and he reads one of my history books about the Revolutionary War. He doesn’t watch much TV and I only get a few channels, none of which he would watch. When he does watch TV, it’s usually sports or financial news.

  Later we return to bed and I fall asleep in his arms. I want to fall asleep with Pearce every night, so maybe I should just move in with him. If I did, I couldn’t tell my mom. She’d be ashamed of me for living with a guy I’m not married to. But I’d have to tell her. She’d know I wasn’t living here when I didn’t pick up my phone.

  In the morning, Pearce isn’t in bed and I wonder if he already left for work. But then I hear him in the other room.

  “Pearce?” I call out.

  He walks into the bedroom, carrying a bouquet of yellow tulips and a dozen long-stem red roses.

  “Good morning.” He sets the flowers down and kisses me.

  “What’s all this?” I point to the flowers.

  “I bought you some flowers. I noticed you didn’t have any.”

  “The other ones died. But you didn’t have to get me more.”

  “Of course I did. You like flowers, so I had to make sure you had some. I’ll get you as many as you’d like. I’ll fill your entire apartment with them.”

  “These are more than enough. Thank you.” I hug him. He smells good, like he already showered. And he has on different clothes; jeans and the white polo shirt he bought when we went shopping. “You went all the way back to your loft to shower and dress?”

  “No. I showered here and had an overnight bag in the car.” He smiles. “I was confident you’d let me stay over.”

  “You don’t lack confidence, that’s for sure.” I kiss him. “Let me get ready quick and then I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “It’s already made. I picked it up when I was out getting the flowers.”

  “You did?” I race out to the kitchen and see a small tray of pastries, some fresh fruit, coffee, and orange juice.

  I hear him behind me. “I decided against getting eggs. They don’t travel well.”

  “This is perfect.” I sit on one of the barstools and take a sip of coffee. “I usually just have a piece of toast.”

  “Rachel, you need to buy groceries. You hardly have anything in your refrigerator. I gave you money for groceries, so why didn’t you go shopping?”

  I take a croissant. I don’t know where he got this stuff but it looks delicious. I bite into the croissant. It’s flaky, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth goodness. “These are amazing.”

  He sits on the barstool next to mine.

  “Rachel, why didn’t you buy groceries?”

  “I will. I just…I had to use that money for something else.”

  “What?”

  “The electric bill,” I mumble, embarrassed to admit I didn’t have money to pay for it myself.

  He sighs as he gets his wallet out. “Take this and buy some food.” He puts three $100 bills on the counter.

  “I’m not taking your money. I’m getting another job.”

  “Is that why you have this?” He holds up the application I picked up yesterday.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to work at a grocery store? That pays almost nothing. After taxes you’ll be lucky to make a hundred dollars a week.”

  “Probably more like fifty. They only need someone a few hours a week to fill in for people who call in sick or go on vacation.”

  “Do your parents know you’re struggling like this?”

  “No. And I’d never tell them. That would just prove to my mom that I can’t live on my own and need to move back with them. And that’s not going to happen.” I pop the lid off one of the orange juice cups and hand it to him. “Here. And take a pastry. They’re delicious. Where did you get these?”

  He moves the orange juice aside and slides the money closer to me. “Take this.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  He gets his wallet out again. “If you don’t take it, I’ll just keep adding to it until you do.” He sets another hundred dollar bill down.

  “Pearce, don’t.”

  “You still haven’t taken it.” He puts another hundred down. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from. We could do this all morning.” He sets another bill down, and then another.

  “Okay, stop.” I pick up the bills and count them. “That’s seven hundred dollars. I don’t need that much for groceries.”

  “Then use the rest for something else.”

  I hold up the bills. “Fine. I’ll take this, but only because I need new brakes. And I’ll pay you back when I—”

  “Brakes?” He holds my arm. “What brakes? Car brakes?”

  “Yes. I need new ones but I’ve been putting it off because I didn’t have the money.”

  He swivels my barstool so I’m facing him. “You’ve been driving around in a car with bad brakes?”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’ll get them fixed.”

  “Do they even work? Are you able to stop?”

  “Yes.” I swivel back toward the kitchen and take another pastry. “But it’s kind of a delayed stop.”

  “A delayed stop? Rachel, you could’ve killed yourself!” He gets up and walks around the counter, standing in front of me as I remain seated at the bar. “You’re not driving that car until it’s fixed.”

  “Then how do you expect me to get to class?”

  “I’ll rent you a car. One that has working brakes. I’ll have your car brought to the garage I go to. The mechanics there are excellent. They’ll put in new brakes and check to see if anything else needs to be fixed.”

  He picks up the phone on the wall and calls someone.

  “Pearce, what are you doing?”

  “Calling my secretary. She has the number for my mechanic.” He talks to her and takes down the information, then hangs up.

  I go over to him. “Pearce, stop. I can do this myself. I don’t need you to do this for me.”

  “This can’t wait. It needs to be done today. You never should’ve been driving that car knowing the brakes were bad. Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Why would I tell you?”

  “Because I would’ve given you the money!”

  “Why are you getting so angry?”

  “Because you’re driving around in a car without brakes!”

  “It has
brakes. They’re just worn out. And I didn’t feel right asking you for money.”

  He raises his voice. “Rachel, I’m a fucking billionaire. Just ask me for the money! When your life is at risk, you set your pride aside and you take the goddamn money!”

  “Just stop, okay? I don’t like your tone and I don’t like the fact that you’re taking over like this. You’re overreacting.”

  “Overreacting? You’re driving around in a car without brakes!”

  I feel like he’s lecturing me and I hate being lectured.

  “I have to get ready and you have to get to work. I’ll see you later.” I storm off to the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

  “Rachel. Come back here.”

  I sit down on the bed. I need a moment to calm down. I know Pearce is only trying to help, but the way he’s doing it makes me feel like I’m a child. Like I’m not responsible or competent or capable of doing anything for myself. It’s how my mom makes me feel every time I make a mistake. She doesn’t let me fix it. She just takes over.

  A few minutes pass and I assume Pearce left. I haven’t heard any noise in the kitchen since I stormed out of there. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so bad at arguing. I always run off instead of just talking it out. Now I feel bad. Pearce was just trying to be nice and I yelled at him for it.

  “Rachel, can I come in?” It’s Pearce. So he didn’t leave. I guess he was waiting for me to come out.

  “Yes.”

  He opens the door and comes over and sits next to me. “I’m sorry.”

  I climb on his lap and hug him. “Don’t be. You were only trying to help.”

  “But I didn’t. Instead I took over. It’s what I do. I see a problem and I fix it. And the thought of you driving around without—”

  “I know. It’s dangerous. I should’ve fixed it weeks ago.” I scoot back on his lap. “And you’re right. I could’ve asked you to loan me the money.”

  “I would’ve given it to you.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Any time you need something, just ask.”

  “I have trouble accepting help, even when I know I need it. My mom was so overprotective when I was growing up that now I have this strong need to be independent. To be free to make mistakes without being judged or rescued. So when you took over like that, I felt like I used to feel with my mom. Like I still feel whenever she tries to take over my life.”

  “Rachel, I’m not trying to take over anything. I want you to be independent. I like that about you. I just panicked when I imagined your brakes going out and you getting hurt.” He pauses. “I suppose this is a problem of being in love.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you love someone, you’ll do anything to keep them safe. And you don’t always think straight. I didn’t react well earlier and I’m sorry for that.”

  “I didn’t react well either.”

  “I should’ve asked you instead of telling you, so I’m asking you now. Would you please allow me to take care of this for you?”

  I kiss his cheek. “Yes. But I’m giving you the money back. If you’re taking care of the car, then I don’t need the money.”

  “Keep it. And use it to fill that damn fridge up.” He smiles. “I’m getting tired of starving whenever I come over here.”

  “Hey!” I push on his shoulder. “You’re not starving. You’re just huge and you eat a lot.”

  “Maybe so, but the fact remains that you need to buy groceries.”

  “Okay. I will. Except now I don’t have a car.”

  “Get dressed and we’ll go to a rental place.” He checks his watch. “I just need to cancel a meeting.” He lifts me off him and gets up. “I need to go make a call.”

  “Pearce, just go. I’ll see if Shelby can give me a ride to campus later. I don’t want you getting in trouble at work.”

  “I won’t get in trouble.” He leans down and kisses me. “I own the company.”

  He walks out to make his call. Sometimes I forget that he’s a billionaire who will someday take over one of the largest companies in America. When we’re together, I don’t think about that. To me, he’s just Pearce. My boyfriend. The man I love.

  We go to the rental place and pick out a car, then he heads to work. I go to class and when I get back to my apartment for lunch, my car is already gone. Someone probably picked it up right after Pearce called the garage.

  Now I’m relieved he’s doing this for me. My car probably has all kinds of problems that need to be fixed. And if I’m going to let him spend money on me, I’d rather have my car repaired than have him buy me an expensive gift, like a necklace or earrings. Those things are nice, but having a safe, reliable car is far more important.

  After lunch, I call Pearce. “Hi. I was just checking in. Did you hear anything from the garage?”

  “Yes. They found several issues and have to order in some parts. They probably won’t have it ready for a few days.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “I don’t know all the details. They faxed me a list of items. I can show it to you later. Rachel, I’m sorry but I have a meeting I’m late to. I have to go.”

  “Okay. Have a good afternoon. I love you.”

  “Goodbye.” He hangs up without saying ‘I love you’ back. He probably doesn’t want to say it at the office in case people are listening.

  The week goes by and Pearce comes over every night after work. He keeps hinting I should move in with him, but I like being close to school. I told him I’d stay with him in December, once classes are over. And I’ll continue to stay with him until I figure out what I’m going to do after graduation. We still haven’t talked about that, but I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to move away from Pearce, but I can’t give up a job opportunity because of a boyfriend. We’d have to be more than that, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

  On Friday, I go to Pearce’s loft to stay for the weekend. George, the security guy, knows me now and we’re becoming friends. His job can be kind of boring, sitting in that security booth all day, so sometimes, like today, when I’m waiting for Pearce to get home, I go out and talk to George. He always tells me jokes. He has twelve grandkids and they love jokes so he has enough to fill a book. They’re silly jokes but still funny. I’ve even used some of them on my tours. They’re a big hit with the seniors.

  Pearce gets home from work at six. I didn’t make dinner so he has it delivered. He always does this when I’m over there, and although the food is delicious, I don’t know why he won’t take me out. I don’t want to bring this up at dinner, but later, when we’re cleaning up the dishes, I decide to say something.

  “Pearce, why don’t we go out tomorrow night?” I take his plate from him and put it in the dishwasher.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “Out for dinner.” He hands me our glasses and I add them to the dishwasher and close it up. “You could take me to your favorite place.”

  He clears his throat. “I’d rather stay in.”

  Once again, he refuses to take me out. I don’t understand it. But I don’t want to fight about it.

  “Then we’ll have dinner here, but maybe we could invite a couple of your friends over so I could meet them.”

  “I don’t have friends.” He walks around me to the table and pushes our chairs in.

  I go over to him. “Of course you have friends. You always tell me about the social events you go to. You must have friends you see there.”

  “They’re acquaintances, not friends.”

  “Pearce, why won’t—”

  “We’re NOT having anyone over.” He says it forcefully as his body tenses up.

  I step back. “Um, okay.”

  I don’t know what happened just now but I didn’t like it. It’s like the Pearce I love disappeared and was replaced by someone else. And that someone scared me. I didn’t like his tone or the way his body went rigid when I suggested we have people over.

  The room gets quiet. He’s
staring down at the floor. I take another step back and he notices.

  “Rachel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

  “It’s not just that. You became almost…I don’t know how to describe it. I’ve never seen you react that way.”

  He pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry. I had a long day at work and I’m tired. And as for having people over, maybe we could do it some other time. I feel like we don’t get much time together so the time we do have I want to spend with just you.”

  I look up at him. “But eventually you’ll introduce me to your friends, right?”

  “Like I said, I don’t really have friends, but—”

  “Pearce, just agree to it.”

  He hesitates. “Yes. I will introduce you to some people.”

  I feel somewhat better that he agreed to it, but I still think his initial reaction was odd. And he seems very reluctant about doing it.

  I return to the kitchen and pick up the takeout containers and toss them in the trash. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The shelter finally got the okay to reopen so I’ll be going there tomorrow morning.”

  When I turn back around, he grabs hold of my arm. “I thought you weren’t doing that anymore.”

  “Of course I’m doing it.” I look down at his hand on my arm. He’s acting strange again.

  “But you said it was closed for repairs.”

  “It was, but everything’s fixed now so they reopened the shelter last night.”

  “I don’t want you going there.” He uses that forceful tone again.

  I yank my arm from his grasp. “Well, I’m going there, so you’ll have to get over it.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  I seriously do not understand what his problem is when it comes to my volunteering at the shelter. And his attitude about this is starting to make me angry.

  “Pearce, you’re not going with me. I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “You can’t go there alone. It’s too dangerous.”

  “You say that about everything and I’m getting tired of it.” I leave the kitchen and go into the living room. “I know the world is a dangerous place, but that’s not going to stop me from going out in it and helping others. So I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but I’m going to keep working at the shelter.”