Finally My Forever

by Brooke St. James

  He was still in his seat, but he turned more fully and stared at me intently. "You look familiar," he said, with the hint of a smile.

  Thomas put his hand around my shoulder again, causing my plate to jostle. "This is my best friend, Carly."

  Micah smiled and nodded as recognition set in. "Oh, you're the girl who's been teaching science classes at the house, aren't you?"

  I nodded.

  "I'd stand up to shake your hand, but I can see they're full," he said, gesturing to my plate and bowl. I couldn't believe I was standing here holding a ton of food. What an oinker.

  "Thomas tells me all about his science teacher," he said. "I know they really appreciate what you're doing over there."

  "I love doing it!" I said smiling. It was the truth. I'd done a total of three classes so far and it was so much fun, I almost felt guilty every time someone made it seemed like I was doing a good deed.

  "I'll let you get to your dinner, but it was nice meeting you," he said with a huge smile.

  Did he think he was meeting me for the first time? Was I that forgettable?

  "I met you a long time ago, but it was nice seeing you again," I said. I smiled and casually started to turn and walk away as if not expecting him to comment on my comment.

  "Wait," he said. "We met before?"

  I looked down at him again with a smile and nod, and he studied my face. "I thought you looked familiar! Where'd we meet?"

  "At the Happy House a long time ago before it opened. You played a show opening for The Miffs that night, and I saw you there too."

  A huge smile spread across his perfectly chiseled face. "Oh yeah! You're that same Carly? I had no idea! That's crazy! I didn't even recognize you!"

  "You opened for The Miffs?" someone at his table chimed in, and Micah looked that way as they all started joking and laughing.

  I already felt awkward enough standing their holding all that food, so I smiled as I turned to walk away again.

  "Hey Carly," he said.

  I turned to regard him from over my shoulder.

  "I'll be over there in a few minutes."

  I nodded and smiled as if it was no concern to me.

  I was not hungry at all. I managed to pick at my food, but that was only because everyone else at the table had already eaten, and I knew they would notice if I didn't eat at all.

  The pavilion was full of round tables, each of them seating six to eight people. We could easily see most of the property from our vantage point, and everyone sitting around my table explained what everything was.

  There was a corn maze, a petting zoo, a huge bonfire, a gigantic slide that you ride while sitting on a burlap sack, several different games and challenges (including one where you toss corn cobs into a huge bucket), a hay ride, a "mystery" trail, (which I assumed was the Christian version of a haunted trail) pumpkin painting, face painting, and just about anything else you could think of. The pavilion was full of people and so were all of the activities. As I looked out, I wondered how big their church must be to host something this size.

  "You guys didn't tell me Thomas' science teacher was the same Carly that I met during that work day," Micah said.

  I didn't see him say it because he was behind me. My heart sank when I heard him say my name, but that was nothing compared to the way my stomach flipped when he put his hands on my shoulders. He gave them a little squeeze, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open and remain composed.

  I swiveled in my chair to stare straight up at him, "Yep, same Carly," I said as unaffected as I could.

  He was standing so close that my ear was pressed right up against his stomach. It wasn't even funny how attracted I was to this guy. Unbelievable.

  He stared down at me. "You've grown up," he said with a slight grin.

  That did it. I literally choked. I must have swallowed some spit down the wrong pipe because I began coughing uncontrollably. I turned away from him and leaned forward in my chair to finish my coughing fit. Thomas was sitting next to me and he patted me on the back.

  "You okay?" Micah asked, once I was done.

  "Yep," I said without looking up at him.

  "If you're done eating, I'll walk you over to the cider mill to get a drink."

  Chapter 11

  I glanced back at Micah, who had just offered to walk with me to the cider mill, whatever that was. Logic would suggest that it was the place where they made cider. He was still standing behind me, and I regarded him from over my shoulder with eyes that were still watering from my coughing fit.

  "Unless you're still eating," he said, pointing to my barely touched dinner.

  "I'm done," I said. "I'll walk to the cider mill. I wanted to check out that corn cob toss anyway."

  A smile spread across Micah's face. "Are you challenging me?" he asked, eyebrows raised slightly. He was goading me, and I loved it. I had been known to hold my own when it came to a tossing game, and I imagined the surprise on his face when I effortlessly roped the bucket.

  "I'll go to the cider mill," Thomas said, drawing me from my thoughts.

  Micah shifted his hand from my shoulder to his brother's. "Let me take her. I'm gonna talk to her about what she's doing for your next science class, and you can't hear that."

  I glanced at Thomas, who was giving serious consideration to what Micah said.

  "Why don't you let Micah and Carly catch up for a minute," Claire interjected. "You get to see her all the time."

  Thomas conceded but didn't look like he was too happy about it. As I was standing, Claire shoved her half eaten chocolate cake in front of him, and his scowl turned to a smile. Claire winked at me just before Micah and I walked off.

  He was considerably larger than the guy I remembered. I fell into stride next to him, wondering how much he had grown in the last five years, or if maybe he'd just filled out and seemed taller. I had on flats, but he was at least a head taller than me, and broad chested too. He was dressed casually but his taste was still impeccable. He had on fitted jeans and boots with a flannel shirt layered over a grey long sleeve thermal undershirt. His shaggy hair was darker than I remembered. It was loosely styled away from his face, but some of it had fallen over his eyebrow—his beautifully scared eyebrow.

  "I guess you better tell me what you're next science lesson's about to keep me from lying to my brother," he said.

  I smiled at him as we walked. "I think we're gonna watch a few items either float or sink on different liquids to demonstrate density."

  "What liquids?"

  I wondered if he was actually curious or if he was just making conversation. "Syrup, oil, and water."

  He regarded me as if wondering what we could possibly do with that so I continued, "We'll put them all in the same container and they'll separate, one floating on top of the other in layers. Then, one by one I'll add items to the mix—a rock, a grape, a cork, and a piece of ice. They'll either sink or float depending on their density."

  "That sounds pretty cool," he said. "I might have to come watch."

  "You're welcome to."

  We walked a few paces in silence. I could see the sign for the cider mill up ahead.

  "Mom told me the class is a big hit. She said you brought your dog last time and everyone loved that too."

  I smiled. "Roscoe's a trip."

  "Roscoe, eh? What kind of dog is he?"

  "He's a mutt. Some sort of wiry-haired terrier mix, I think. I have a picture if you want to see."

  "I'd love to," he said.

  I hadn't wanted to bring my purse when I got out of the car, so my phone was in one of my back pockets and a little cash was in the other. I fished around in there and pulled out my phone.

  "I just moved into a new place this morning, and my roommate, Trish, just texted me a picture of her and Roscoe to convince me he was fine and that I should relax and have fun. She said she's in love with him."

  I clicked on the picture and held my phone out for him to inspect.

  "Roscoe must be quite t
he charmer," he said.

  "He's awesome," I said. "I think it comes with being a mutt. Seems like everybody's got a soft spot for them."

  He was staring at the picture and about to ask me something when Gina rushed to his side. Her sudden approach startled us both. "Heyyy!" she said, smiling brightly up at him. "Where are you going?"

  "I'm taking Carly to get some cider," he said.

  Gina linked arms with him and started walking with us. My blood pressure instantly started rising. Micah had been holding my phone, but he handed it back to me. "He's cute," he said.

  I was annoyed, therefore I didn't respond.

  "Please tell me you brought your guitar!" she said tugging at his arm. "A bonfire wouldn’t be the same without some Micah music." Her pleading voice was meant to sound appealing, but to my ears, it sounded whiney. She was beautiful and probably really popular with everyone at the festival. I really didn't want to hate her, but it was hard.

  "I brought it," Micah said. "I'll meet you guys over there in a little bit."

  We were walking side-by-side, so I wasn't looking at them, but I could tell by his tone that he was asking her nicely to leave us alone. I wondered if she'd take the hint.

  "Don't forget we're all gonna go scare the youth group on a hayride once the sun goes down," she said.

  "I won't," he said, "I'll meet y'all over there."

  "All right, I'll see you in a minute," she said, running off.

  I glanced back to make sure she was gone. "Your girlfriend?" I asked.

  "Who Gina? No, she's a friend—I'm sorry I should have introduced you. I forgot you don't know any of these people."

  "I met her when I was getting my food," I said. "Thomas said she wanted to kiss you."

  Micah busted out laughing. We were approaching the small, rustic building labeled Cider Mill when I said that, and Micah stopped walking and looked at me. "Thomas said that?" he asked, grinning.

  I nodded.

  "To her face?"

  I nodded again. "And she didn't necessarily deny it," I said, shrugging and smiling, "so it seems you have a willing participant if you're ever in the mood."

  "It might be a while," he said, his grin shifted and was now tinged with regret.

  "Why's that?" I asked. "Not that I'm urging you to change your mind or anything—at least not where she's concerned."

  There was a twinkle in his eye for a split second as he wondered what I meant by that exactly, but that sad smile made its way back to his face. He gestured to the scar on his face. "This isn't the only scar I had from that accident."

  My eyes instantly scanned his body, which was completely covered with clothes. "There's a big one on my leg, and another one on my arm too, but physical scars aren't what I’m referring to."

  "Oh," I said, understanding. I didn't know what else to say. I didn't want to prod him if he wasn't comfortable continuing.

  He slowly walked to an out of the way spot on the side of the cider mill as if he wasn't quite ready to go in yet, and I followed him. I was just about to change the subject when he began speaking again. His face was solemn, and I knew that he was deeply affected by whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

  "I was driving and my girlfriend was in the passenger's seat," he said. "We were going through an intersection at fifty miles an hour when we got hit." He leaned against the cider mill and regarded me with that same melancholy smile. "She was killed in that accident."

  The air left my lungs in a sympathetic sigh and I put my face in my hand. "I'm really sorry," I whispered.

  He pulled my hand down gently, making me glance at him. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he said, with a slightly bigger smile. "I just figured I'd tell you since you'd probably hear about it anyway. It was sort of a pivotal point in my life. It brought about a lot of changes."

  "I guess so," I said. "Is that what made you move back to San Antonio?"

  He nodded. "I lived in Austin after I graduated college. I had a good job there, and it was close enough that I visited regularly." He stared off into space for a few seconds even though I was standing right in front of him. "Anyway, I reevaluated after that and ended up coming home."

  "Was it that girl I met at the bar that night?"

  I asked. I could tell the question took him by surprise because he flinched slightly but answered without hesitation. "No, It wasn't her," he said, shaking his head. "We'd broken up by then."

  I watched as he went inward for a few painful seconds.

  "Her name was Natalie."

  "I'm really sorry," I repeated.

  "It's okay," he assured me. "It's been over a year since it happened, and I know time will continue to heal. It's just hard to get a scene like that out of your head, especially at first." He smiled and shrugged as if feeling bad to have burdened me.

  I put my hand on his arm and looked into his eyes, searching them and letting him search mine. "I'm not just making stuff up when I tell you I know your pain," I said. "I don't know what you saw in that car accident, but you should know that I've seen something I desperately wish I could unsee."

  Tears sprang to my eyes at the thought of finding Zeke. "It's been four years for me, and it does get better, but please just understand that I know where you're coming from." I glanced down and let out a tiny, humorless laugh. "And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't really feel in the mood to kiss anyone either."

  "Did you get into a car accident too?" he asked.

  My eyes met his again and I shook my head. I took a few seconds to debate how much I should tell him.

  "What did you see?" he pressed, seeming genuinely concerned and interested.

  "I found my boyfriend in his bedroom with a pistol—what was left of him, anyway."

  He sunk his face into his hands and breathed out through his teeth. I was smiling sadly when he looked at me again. "Carly, I'm so sorry for you."

  "It's okay," I said. "It's been four years, and like you said, it gets better with time."

  I paused and he just stared at me, shaking his head. "I can't imagine," he said.

  "Sure you can," I reminded him. We stared into each other's eyes for several long seconds, sharing a beautiful, unspoken empathy.

  "How long did it take you to start dating again?" he asked.

  I laughed nervously and began stammering. "What, me? Oh, I didn't really, I haven't really dated per say."

  His mouth curved up in a genuine grin, which made color rise to my cheeks. "Please don't tell me it's been four years and you're still not able to move on," he said.

  "It's only been a year for me, and my friends and family are trying to set me up with every available woman in Texas. I don’t think I'll be able to hold them off much longer."

  I smiled. "I could have moved on by now. I've just been really busy with school and everything."

  "So you've kissed a guy since then, you just haven't been in a serious relationship," he said, as if stating a fact.

  "I didn't say that, necessarily."

  "Please don't tell me you haven't kissed a man in four years," he said staring at me.

  "Okay, I won't tell you."

  "But you have, right?"

  "Why are you asking me that?" I said, smiling and shaking my head at him incredulously. I knew I was blushing; I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

  "I'm asking you because I can't imagine you depriving yourself of a man's kiss for four years because of what your boyfriend did. It'd be a crime."

  "I don’t know if I'd call it a crime."

  "It would be. You're a beautiful woman. Somebody's missing out."

  I'd never been called a woman. Come to think of it, I wasn't sure if any guy had referred to me as beautiful before. Sure, my parents and grandparents had, but that didn't count. I found it hard to breathe regularly, and I had to sigh just to catch my breath. I stared up at him with a half-smile.

  "Well you just said yourself that you didn't feel much like kissing Gina or anyone else for that matter."

&nbs
p; His eyes roamed over my face, making me feel like my lungs weren't functioning at all. I could not get a good breath of air, and my stomach was tied in knots.

  "I feel like kissing you right about now," he said.

  He seemed completely serious when he said it, but I couldn't stop a nervous giggle. "Quit playing," I said, pushing at his broad chest.

  He pinched my sweater and pulled on it a little, tugging me toward him. I stayed where I was standing, not taking his bait, and he took a small step closer to me.

  "I think it's worth a shot," he said. "You know, just to see if we're still capable of doing it right. Like a science project."

  I laughed. There was so much commotion going on around us. Children were laughing and playing tag, and people were walking by having conversations. I felt like I was in a dream.

  "We don't do that kind of science in my class," I said.

  "Then we'll call it something else."

  "What?"

  "At this point, you can think of it as doing me a favor," he said. He shrugged. "We can just pretend it never happened afterward if you want, but I think it'd be good for both of us to give it a try—just to see if we can still do it."

  I could tell he was serious by the way he was staring at my lips.

  This was definitely a dream.

  I literally pinched my own leg as we stood there, and to my own astonishment I felt the pain of my thumbnail digging into my thigh.

  "Well it's not really something we could just do right here in front of everybody, now is it?" I asked, still brushing it off like he was joking.

  "Is that a yes?" he asked.

  I glanced around before smiling up at him with a you're impossible expression. "I guess it's a yes, pending a spot where your whole church isn't staring right at us."

  The next thing I knew, he grabbed me by the arm, and began dragging me toward the back of the cider mill.

  Chapter 12

  One second, I was standing next to an old, wooden building with Micah, and the next, I was being pulled around to the back of it. There were some trees and shrubs behind there, but we were still somewhat exposed—especially to people in the distance, near the entrance of the corn maze.