On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20)

by Lisa Heaton

  He began to caress her, stroking her neck and cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his fingertips. She was so beautiful, and he loved her so much, he could hardly imagine never knowing what it would be like to make love to her, to feel her skin against his. It was at that thought he leaned in to kiss her, and the touch of her lips against his caused his mind to think crazy thoughts, ones unconcerned with consequences. The longer they kissed, the more intense the moment became. His heart was thudding painfully against his chest and every muscle in his body felt tight and rigid. It was all he could do to maintain any sense of control. Each time he allowed his hand to travel further than he’d ever dared to go, he forced himself to withdraw it again, to move it to her back or face. It was a battle he was beginning to lose though; he felt himself falling deeper into her. What was right or wrong was becoming blurred. As he trailed his lips along the smooth skin of her neck, all his mind and body could reason was that what he truly needed, the one thing that could end the torturous longing he felt, was there in his arms.

  When he moved to lay her on the sand, the way she clung to him and whispered his name caused him to pause for a moment and look at her. He could hardly read her expression, so for a minute more, he hovered there over her, wondering what she was feeling. She trusted him fully. That was what he finally noted in her expression. She had no fear of going too far because he’d committed to her they never would. Once, he’d even gone as far as to assure her she was safe with him. If only she knew what was really bubbling beneath the surface of him in that moment; that trust would be broken. Finally, he rolled over onto his back and groaned. Taking several deep breaths, his heart began to slowly fall back into a normal rhythm.

  Coming to rest on her elbow, she giggled. “I’ve never seen this side of you.” Maybe she caught a glimpse of this in New York, but it was nothing compared to tonight.

  Laughing at himself, he said, “I feel like I’m seventeen again.”

  “I think I like this side of you.” Chelsea sensed the battle raging within John. He’d never shown as much longing for her as she just witnessed. Almost always, he showed such restraint that things had never gone as far as they just had. He really was like a groping teenager.

  Propping himself up on his side, he sighed in frustration, then reached for her and pulled her nearer to him. “Just let me hold you.” When she snuggled in next to him, he sighed again. He would resist kissing her. He knew better.

  Though he would never bring it up, what he thought of constantly was the fact that someone else would be her first. Someone else would love her the way he was dying to love her. Once, he told her that whomever she married would get the greatest treasure. It was always at the forefront of his mind – that man wouldn’t be him. More than anything else in the world, he wanted it to be him.

  John pulled in front of Chelsea’s building and put his car in park. He left the car running and walked with her to the elevator. Only there, in the safety of the lobby, did he dare to reach for her again. Grasping the lapels of his jacket, he pulled her toward him and kissed her lips softly.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come up?”

  Grinning, he shook his head. “No way!”

  She giggled at him once more. “Is it safe to remove your jacket now?”

  As he helped her remove the jacket, he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. The dress was not at all revealing, but had spaghetti straps that left her shoulders bare. “I’m sorry.” He pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on her shoulder.

  “There you go apologizing again.” She smiled and nestled into his arms. He’d already apologized on the way home for being so nearly out of control.

  Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I love you.”

  Surprised, since it was the first time he’d said so since she found him outside her bedroom door at his parents’ house, she whispered back. “I’ve never doubted that.”

  He moved her back to look at her. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

  Chelsea nodded and looked away, tears stinging her eyes. “And I love you.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I know, baby. I’m sorry about that, too.” Taking a quick step back, not wanting the conversation to go any further, he said, “See ya for breakfast?”

  “Yeah. See ya then.” She watched him leave with a strange mixture of joy and sadness in her heart. At the same time, she felt full and empty.

  When Chelsea stepped off the elevator and took the first few steps down the corridor toward her place, she blinked several times, certain she was not seeing the face she thought she was. The closer she got to her door, though, the more certain she was that she was indeed seeing Tuck. With every step, it was as if she were traveling back in time, back to when he was so much a part of her life that she could hardly imagine living without him.

  “Hey.” While Tuck had seen her on occasion in the past five years, it was rarely so close, and she never looked like she did tonight. Wearing a form-fitting black dress, Chelsea no longer looked like Chelsea. Gone was the girl-next-door he’d known since they were children, the tomboy who tagged along everywhere he and Bobby went. He could hardly believe how sophisticated and mature she seemed. The closer she came, the harder his heart pounded, and just for a moment, he regretted coming, as she’d somehow bounced so far out of his league that it made no sense to even take a chance. His palms were sweaty, so he rubbed them on his jeans just in case she seemed willing to hug him. In that case, he would hate to ruin her beautiful dress.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” Without hesitation, she stepped in and hugged him, certain he was even more handsome than when he was hers. No matter how many years and how much heartbreak stood between them, her heart could hardly help skipping a beat when he held her so tightly. In Wranglers and a white starched shirt, she grinned at the fact that he was wearing his best for the visit. It was not often he dressed up. Only for church, weddings, and funerals was his motto. Not surprisingly, he wore his hair just the same, short, especially short on the sides, nearly what a soldier would wear. His face was tan from real work, hard work on a farm; the kind that began at sunup and ended at dusk.

  “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.”

  “How did you get in?” She was in a secure community with gates and guards. It was a wonder they didn’t stop him since she wasn’t there to give him access.

  “They don’t build these places with farm boys in mind. I parked down the block and climbed the fence out back.” He followed her in, relieved that her reception was as warm as it was. It could’ve gone either way, and without doubt, he deserved for it to go the other way. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this.” As he walked further into her apartment, he whistled, looked around, and exclaimed, “So the old guy pays for this place. Nice.”

  His statement stung, but she had a feeling it was supposed to. “He owns it and allows me to live here.” Seeing him didn’t bother her at all, not the way it used to, not that heart gripping feeling of lovesickness that she used to feel. If anything, she felt totally unaffected, other than that jolt of excitement through her heart when he wrapped her up in his big old farm boy arms. Those first years when she was home visiting and would see him at church or around town, it devastated her, especially when he was still with Lindsey. Thankfully, that Chelsea was gone. Now, she could see him and think of only the good times, the years growing up together. Maybe time really did heal all wounds.

  “But he doesn’t live here with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  He sat on the sofa, slung his right ankle over his left knee, and looked around. The place was like something on TV. Then the piano caught his eye. “You’re still playing.”

  “I am.”

  “I miss that, hearing you play.” In those first few minutes he’d tried to play it cool, but when the memory of hearing her play and sing in church came, he lost his cool resolve. His eyes burned as if he might cry. “If I close my eyes, I can he
ar you sing. Your voice is still trapped in my head and kinda echoes around in there sometimes.” Quickly, he turned away, ashamed, feeling responsible for the period of time when she quit. From the moment he committed to marry Lindsey, Chelsea never played in church again. Under the circumstances, he could hardly blame her. What he did embarrassed them both so badly, if she would have been up there in front of the congregation, she would have been so humiliated.

  “Bobby gave me your address, but don’t be mad at him.”

  Surprised by that, Chelsea said, “Really?”

  “It took a whole lot of pleading to get it. He likes the guy you’re seeing, I guess.”

  Chelsea could only smile. During their time together at Christmas, Bobby and John skied together some, in a competitive way, but that seemed to be their idea of guy bonding.

  As much as she wanted to, she knew it would be rude to ask Tuck why he came. Hoping to prompt him, she asked, “So exactly what landed you in the neighborhood?”

  She was sitting on the edge of the sofa beside him, looking like a model. How could she change so much that he hardly recognized her anymore? Where was the girl he knew? Upon closer inspection, though, her face was the same, and the sweet expression in her eyes. She seemed more mature, but beneath the clothes and make-up, he caught a glimpse of his Chelsea. His Chelsea, now that was a long ago expired label. He exhaled loudly, trying to calm his nerves and defend against the onslaught of memories of what they used to be. Finally, never one to beat around the bush, he admitted, “I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “It’s been five years, Tuck. Why now?” She sensed his nervousness, and for the first time began to suspect his motive in coming.

  “I don’t want it to be too late. I’m afraid you’ll marry him.” Since he lost her, his only hope was that he would have a chance to win her back someday. She left for school while he was still married, and then after Lindsey left, for the next three years, he waited for Chelsea to come home. He anticipated she would be back after she graduated, but then she decided on going for her masters. All that time, he never dated; he simply raised his daughter and tried his best to do right by her.

  Chelsea looked away. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “It seems to be moving in that direction.” After Thanksgiving, Bobby told him about John, saying he seemed to make Chelsea happy. Then after Bobby spent Christmas with them, he was convinced they would marry soon.

  All those years ago, when Tuck lost Chelsea, he lost Bobby, too. With one stupid decision, he lost both of his best friends in one fell swoop. After a few years, he and Bobby mended fences as best they could. In the early years, though, Bobby would have nothing to do with him, and Tuck lived the most unbearable existence without either of them. During the worst time of his life, his marriage to Lindsey, the only people he wanted to turn to were lost to him.

  Chelsea could see how her family would have such an impression. “Well, it’s not.”

  “So what is this then?” he asked, looking around the apartment. “He takes care of you and you take care of him?”

  Understanding his meaning full well, she jumped to her feet, saying, “I think you should go.”

  He stood quickly, too, apologizing. “I didn’t mean it as harsh as it came out. Really, I didn’t. I’m sorry. But what do you expect me to think? You are dating a rich old guy, living in an apartment like a movie star, and have on the fanciest diamond necklace I’ve ever seen up close. Chelsea, it sure looks like you’re being kept.”

  “Bottom line,” she spat, “it doesn’t matter what you think or what this looks like to you. You have no right to ask, you have no right to be here, and you certainly have no right to judge me.”

  Reaching for her arm, he tried to stop her from walking away. “Look, none of that came out right. I wasn’t judging you. I guess I’m just worried that he’s using you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He stopped, realizing how ridiculous such a statement was considering how he’d hurt her. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t remember. Often, he could see the hurt expression in her eyes when he admitted he cheated on her. It followed him even after all those years. “I know I have no rights where you’re concerned, no right to ask or to wonder, but we go way back, and no matter what, I can’t help but care.” Pleading with her, he added, “Please don’t be angry with me. I would never say anything to hurt you on purpose, never.”

  Chelsea knew that to be true. There was no kinder man on the planet than Tuck. Relaxing a bit, dropping her defenses, she admitted, “I realize how it looks. I really do. But honestly, it’s not like that. He’s been so good to me, made it possible for me to stay here and finish out my last year. If not for him, I would’ve had to drop out this year.”

  “So you’re not involved. Really?”

  She could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes, which made her sad for him. If anyone did, she understood grasping at even the tiniest shred of hope. “We’re very involved, but we’re not going to marry.”

  Tuck decided to let the subject drop for the time being. He didn’t dare ask anything more. Already he’d hurt her unintentionally, something he would rather die than do. He was determined to let her tell him more if and when she was ready rather than to question her anymore.

  They talked for hours, and as they did, it felt like old times. Easily, they picked up as if nothing had ever happened between them. Their friendship came long before their romantic involvement, so it was an easy place to return. Tuck was still as sweet and funny as ever. And because he did know her so well, he knew exactly the right things to say to make her laugh. Over the course of the evening, she laughed more than she had in years, often doubling over, grabbing her sides at the hilarity of whatever story he was telling about an incident on the farm or about someone they knew in common. His stories caused her to miss home even more than she already had. The draw to go back there was growing ever stronger.

  Early on during the conversation, Chelsea realized, though, that just a few years before, she would’ve never been able to laugh with him or even talk to him without crumbling. She’d become a different woman altogether. John coming into her life caused tremendous change in her. It was more than her feelings for John that allowed her to sit with Tuck and talk so causally, it was more of the fact that John had built up her confidence. As he put it, she was no longer a guppy carried along by the current of her emotions.

  Tuck told her about his daughter Lucy, who sounded like a really amazing kid. She was five and had started Kindergarten the past fall. It was obvious, by the way he talked about her, that he loved her deeply and was a really good dad. His eyes misted over on occasion when he talked about her and how he made every effort to make up for the fact that Lucy didn’t have her mother in her life, by her mother’s own choice. Chelsea heard soon after it happened, Lindsey left the farm when Lucy was still a baby. It had always baffled her how a mama could leave a little baby like that. And how could she leave a man like Tuck? What more could she have wanted in life than a gorgeous, sweet husband and a healthy baby girl?

  When they were both finally talked out, Chelsea insisted that he stay the night in the guestroom, which he hesitantly agreed to. It was after midnight before they went to bed. For Tuck, lying there in bed, knowing Chelsea was so near, he found he was unable to sleep. At times he began to drift off, but then her image would dance through his mind, causing him to recall their conversation again and what she said about her and the old guy. We’re not going to marry. Her words gave him hope. It was the first ounce of hope he had to hold onto since Thanksgiving. That night he realized something, he’d missed holding on to hope. At least hope was something. During the time between Thanksgiving and that moment, he’d found himself totally empty handed.

  Early the next morning when Chelsea awoke, the first thing she noticed was the smell of food in the air, which reminded her she was supposed to meet John for breakfast in less than an hour. Not wanting to call him, since she would have to provi
de more details that way, she instead texted him: Will not be able to meet this morning.

  His reply: Everything okay?

  Chelsea’s: Have company from back home.

  When John read the text, he sat for a minute, trying to figure out who it might be. If it were anyone in her family, she would have said the name outright. As much as he wanted to ask, he instead texted: Call me when you are free again. Tossing his phone onto the counter near the coffee pot, he felt a sense of unease deep within. There was something she wasn’t telling him, he was certain of it. The thought of Chelsea being deceptive for any reason just didn’t register though. She was the most sincere and honest person he’d ever known, but still, she was holding something back, and the fact that she felt she needed to caused him to wonder even more.

  Chelsea sat looking at her phone, knowing John must be wondering what was going on. Considering calling him, she decided instead to wait until Tuck was gone to call. Tuck’s plane left just after lunch, so until then, he could stay at her place while she went to class. It was doubtful that John would stop by. Maybe she would never have to explain.

  When she entered the kitchen, she found Tuck standing over the stove, scrambling eggs. He was wearing his Wranglers and no shirt. Hesitating in the doorway for a moment, she simply stood there watching him, memory after memory of them together washing over her. Watching him move, muscles rippling beneath his dark, broad shoulders, she stared intently at the scar on his left shoulder blade. He cut it when they were swimming in a pond when she was sixteen and he was seventeen. Bobby and Tuck were swinging from a rope into the water over and over. Once, after letting go of the rope high in the air and turning a summersault, Tuck hit the water with such force that he went all the way to the bottom and landed on a jagged rock. When he surfaced, a ring of blood immediately surrounded him. The gash took more than twenty stitches. That day was their true beginning, the day they both admitted they wanted more. Those were memories that warmed her and made her sad at the same time.