Back to You

by Priscilla Glenn

  “Why?” Lauren asked, resting her head against his shoulder as he trailed his fingertips over the skin at her wrist.

  “Because she tried to fast-forward everything. She was always on to the next step, the next phase. She treated our relationship like it was a race to the finish line.” He reached up and took a strand of Lauren’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. “And it’s not that I don’t want what’s at the finish line. Living together. Marriage. Babies. I see myself with all of that one day. But this,” he said, gesturing between them. “This part—the beginning part—and the way it makes you feel? The newness of it all, the thrill of anticipation. That doesn’t last forever. So…I don’t know, I think it’s kind of nice to prolong it.”

  Lauren closed her eyes and smiled. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t mind savoring things?”

  “I don’t mind savoring you.”

  She lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him and he smiled. “You ready to go home?”

  Lauren nodded gently, too overcome to speak.

  They drove home in comfortable silence—the radio humming softly between them as he gently played with her fingers, releasing her hand only to shift gears.

  And when he walked her to her door, he thanked her for spending New Year’s with him and kissed her in a way that made her question her sanity for not dragging him upstairs and having her way with him.

  She watched his car pull away before she turned to unlock her door, and just as she turned the key, she heard her cell phone ringing. Lauren dug through her purse as she stepped into her apartment, flipping the light on as she pulled her phone out and looked at the screen.

  Instantly, butterflies flooded her stomach.

  Incoming Call from Michael.

  Ever since that night a few weeks ago when Lauren had taken care of Erin for him, things had changed between them. They were quickly becoming friends again, and the ease with which it was happening made Lauren realize what a fool she’d been for thinking it could have been avoided. So it wasn’t unusual for her to see his number now.

  But every time she did, she’d react the same way, and she hated it. And tonight, on the tail end of her evening with Adam, those butterflies felt even more traitorous.

  She hit the button to take the call as she removed her coat.

  “Hey.”

  “Miss Lauren!”

  The tiny bell-like voice was not the one she expected, but she grinned.

  “Hi, sweetheart! What are you doing awake? It’s way past your bedtime!”

  “Daddy let me stay up to see the ball!”

  “He did? Wow!” Lauren said with the enthusiasm she knew Erin was expecting.

  “Yep! And he let me have a whole ice-cream sundae. And you know what else?”

  “What else?” Lauren said, smiling to herself as she stepped out of her heels and walked back to her bedroom.

  “We took out all the pans and hit them with spoons when the ball came down. We were loud!” Erin shouted before she squealed with laughter.

  “My goodness!” Lauren laughed. “Well, it sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

  “We did,” she said. “Oh, and I almost forgot, Happy New Year!”

  “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” Lauren said, unzipping her dress and letting it pool at her feet.

  “Gotta go! Here’s Daddy!” she said, and then Lauren heard the sounds of the phone changing hands.

  “Okay, but we have to start being quiet now, honey. It’s late and people are trying to go to sleep,” she heard Michael say before he took the phone. “Hey,” he finally said. “Sorry about that. I figured you’d be up, and she was insistent that we call.”

  Lauren smiled as she quickly pulled an oversized T-shirt over her head. “How is she not passed out yet?”

  Michael sighed. “I screwed myself during the celebration process. She’s riding a hardcore sugar high. I might not get to sleep until next weekend.”

  “Come on. This isn’t your first time partying with a three-year-old. You should have matched her sugar intake with your own coffee intake. That’s just a rookie mistake.”

  Michael laughed. “That’s brilliant,” he said through a yawn. “Where were you when I needed that idea two hours ago?”

  She smiled as she crawled into her bed. “I can’t imagine she can go for much longer. She’ll crash soon. And from the sound of it, she won’t be the only one.”

  “Pathetic, right? I was nodding before the ball dropped.”

  “Pathetic indeed. This from the guy who showed up completely tanked in my driveway at five in the morning one New Year’s, still raring to go.”

  “Ah, that’s right,” Michael said slowly. “I believe I puked in your neighbor’s rosebush that night.”

  “Hmm, nothing says nostalgia like vomit,” Lauren sighed as she pulled the comforter up over her legs, and Michael laughed.

  It was moments like this that Lauren couldn’t comprehend how she had ever lived without his friendship. Jenn had asked Lauren at their monthly dinner two weeks earlier what it was worth, why she would ever want to be Michael’s friend again. And although Lauren didn’t give her an answer, she had done a lot of thinking since the night she spent at his house, and she knew what it was worth.

  It was about redemption.

  Everyone deserved the chance to be redeemed, and Michael had gone his whole life never having it. He never got to redeem himself with his father. He never got to redeem himself with his brother. And if he was trying to redeem himself now for what he’d done to her, then she was going to let him, even if it left her vulnerable.

  Lauren knew she could handle herself. One of the things he’d taught her about herself was that she was much stronger than she thought. She didn’t have to be foolish. She didn’t have to love him again.

  She knew those feelings had the potential to resurface, but wasn’t being aware of that enough to prevent it? There was no way it could sneak up on her; she knew what her downfall could be, and so she could consciously remain in control of it. So far, she had done a damn good job of keeping it just friendship. Jenn should have been proud of her.

  “Well,” Michael sighed, “at least there was one benefit to me staying in tonight.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was able to avoid the black ice.”

  “Oh…my…God,” Lauren said, her voice breaking on the last word as she disintegrated into hysterical laughter. She was vaguely aware of Michael laughing on the other end, but she could barely hear him over her own.

  Lauren curled forward, holding her stomach as she gasped for air.

  “I take it you remember that,” Michael said with a smile in his voice, and Lauren nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes, still laughing too hard to answer.

  After a full minute passed with Lauren still unable to get control of herself, Michael sighed.

  “Alright, alright, it wasn’t that funny.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Lauren said, still breathless as she wiped her eyes with her comforter. “I think I can safely say that it was, and always will be, one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.”

  The night that Michael had shown up drunk on her driveway, he had woken her up by throwing twigs at her window. Lauren had thought it was an adorable gesture until she opened the window to find Michael barely able to stand.

  “You missed New Year’s,” he had slurred. “Come down and party with me.”

  “Michael, it’s five in the morning,” she hissed out her window. “And I think you’ve done enough partying.”

  “Pshh,” he said, waving his hand at her. “Come on, Red. Come down and hang out with me.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered, looking back into her room to make sure no one had heard the commotion and come to check on her.

  Michael shrugged. “Suit yourself. Happy New Year!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air and taking a dramatic bow before he turned and jogged sloppily down her driveway.

  “Michael!”
she whisper-yelled after him, noticing the precarious shine on the blacktop. “Watch out for the black ice!”

  “Watch out for the black guys?” he called over his shoulder, the confusion in his voice mixed with drunken amusement. “What the hell is wrong with—” The words cut off as Michael’s legs soared out from under him, and Lauren watched as he flew into the air, his arms flailing at his sides before he landed flat on his back and glided a few feet until his legs were under her mother’s parked car.

  Lauren hadn’t thought about that night in years, but now she couldn’t get the image out of her mind. Every time she thought she’d composed herself, she’d start laughing again.

  “I don’t know what the best part of that story is: the epic fall you took, or the fact that you thought I was trying to warn you about black guys,” she said through her cackling.

  Michael stifled a laugh. “You do realize I could have killed myself. It’s cruel of you to laugh.”

  “Hey, I came running down to make sure you were okay, and double and triple-checked before I even let the first smile crack,” she said. “That was no easy feat, so I’ve earned the right to laugh freely now.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Michael said.

  “You were so wasted. I can’t believe you even remember that.”

  “Remember it? How could I not? You reminded me of it every chance you got for the next year of our lives.”

  Lauren smiled as she laid back against her pillow, and the words were out of her mouth before she could think better of them.

  “I really missed you.”

  There was a beat of silence, and Lauren’s smile fell as her heart stopped. But before she could even curse herself for the slip-up, she heard him sigh, his words so soft that she wasn’t even sure they were meant for her ears.

  “God…me too.”

  December 2002

  Lauren pulled into Michael’s driveway and cut the engine, trying to shake off the sudden sadness that had momentarily overtaken her excitement.

  The entire drive to his house, she had been so eager to give him his Christmas present. Getting her hands on it had proved to be nearly impossible; she’d never tell him the lengths she went through to get it, or how much she ended up paying for it, but she could just imagine the look on his face that would make everything worth it.

  But as she turned onto his road, her heart dropped slightly. Every house on the street was lit up, a myriad of blinking lights and giant blow-up Santas and twinkling artificial icicles.

  Every house except his.

  It was literally a blackened hole on a street full of color and festivity, its darkness somehow overpowering the brightness of all the others combined, and the thought of him coming home to this house night after night put an unpleasant heaviness in her chest.

  Lauren exited her car, looking up at the dim light coming out of his window, and she smiled as the image of him opening his present made its way back into her mind. She turned and grabbed the bag, shutting the car door and jogging up the front steps to his house.

  A long time ago, Michael had told her to just walk in when she came over. It had taken her forever to feel comfortable doing so, but eventually it just became routine. His mother was usually holed up in her bedroom, and on the rare occasions that she made an appearance, she would simply ignore Lauren anyway.

  Lauren opened the front door, startled to see Mrs. Delaney sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead as she absently swirled a small glass of brown liquid in her hand.

  There was no tree, no smell of Christmas dinner, not even a Christmas card displayed anywhere. And although Lauren had expected as much, there was the tiniest part of her that still hoped, that figured maybe decorating the outside of the house was too laborious for a woman, but the inside would be different.

  She took a small, steadying breath. “Hi Mrs. Delaney,” she attempted softly.

  The woman stared straight ahead as if Lauren hadn’t spoken.

  Lauren bit her lip, dropping her eyes before she began walking past her toward the stairs.

  “You seem like a smart girl.”

  Lauren froze. It was the first time in two years the woman had acknowledged her at all, let alone spoken to her.

  “Although I’m a terrible judge of character,” she added with a sardonic laugh.

  Lauren turned toward her; she was staring down at the glass in her hand as she swirled it slowly.

  “But if for once I’m right,” she said huskily, “you should stop coming around here.” She lifted her eyes then, looking at Lauren. “He’ll just ruin you.”

  A loaded silence filled the space between them as Lauren stared at the woman before her, completely at a loss for words. She wanted so badly to be able to make sense of her, to find any ounce of humanity in those eyes that might belie the words that just left her lips.

  But there was nothing.

  And suddenly she felt a heat lighting in her stomach that made it hard for her to breathe.

  How could a mother say that about her own son? What could he have ever possibly done to deserve that?

  And why did he have to be stuck in this horrible house with her?

  She could feel the heat building, spreading up through her chest and into the back of her throat, making her eyes sting.

  Lauren had always prided herself on giving people the benefit of the doubt, on treating people with respect, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to do either for this woman.

  “Your son,” she said slowly, giving due weight to every word, “is one of the best people I’ve ever known.” She inhaled a shaking breath. “And I feel sorry for you that you don’t know him.”

  With that she turned and headed up the stairs, refusing to look back, even when she heard her mumble something about a stupid, naive girl.

  By the time she reached Michael’s door, her hands were shaking. She stopped and closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath and trying to rid her expression of any remaining animosity before she opened the door.

  He was lying on his bed, one hand behind his head and the other holding the remote, aimlessly flipping through the channels on his television.

  When the door opened, he turned his head, smiling when he saw it was her.

  “Hey Red,” he said, sitting up. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have family stuff going on?”

  “Yeah,” she said, walking in and closing the door behind her. “But I just wanted to stop by and say Merry Christmas.”

  Michael tossed the remote on the bed behind him. “You mean your holiday spirit wasn’t sucked right out of you the second you crossed over the threshold?”

  Lauren forced a sad smile, dropping her eyes to the floor.

  “We don’t really do Christmas here. Obviously.”

  Lauren looked up. “Ever?” she asked, and Michael shrugged.

  “Not since my brother died.”

  “Oh,” Lauren said faintly. A beat of silence passed before she said, “Well, do you want to come over to my house?” Forever? she thought. More than ever, she just wanted to take him and run with him some place far away.

  “Nah, that’s okay,” he said. His eyes dropped to the package in her hand. “What’s that?” he asked, quirking his brow as a tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

  At his expression, Lauren smiled her first genuine smile since she pulled into his driveway.

  “Your present,” she said.

  Michael grinned. “Didn’t I tell you not to get me anything?”

  “Yes,” she said, crossing the room to sit on the bed beside him, “and by the expression on your face, I can tell you’re really broken up over the fact that I didn’t listen.”

  Michael laughed, shifting to face her on the bed as she handed the bag to him.

  He dug his hand in the bag like an eager child, and again, Lauren felt a heaviness in her chest as her eyes began to sting for him. She cleared her throat and pushed those feelings away, focusing on the moment.

  He pulled the flat, re
ctangular box out of the bag, and immediately his jaw dropped.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” he said in complete awe, tossing the bag on the floor and holding the box in two hands.

  Lauren grinned, and he lifted his eyes to her, completely shocked. “Holy shit, are you kidding me?” he said, and she laughed.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Jesus Christ, Red, how did you get this?” he asked, turning the box over to read the back.

  Lauren had never gotten into video games. Michael had tried a few times to show her how to play, but it was never her thing. But apparently this new game, Metroid Prime, was supposed to be amazing. It was the first 3D game in that series for GameCube, and also boasted a first-person adventure premise. It had gotten all sorts of amazing reviews before it was even released in November, making it essentially impossible to find during the holiday season.

  “It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she lied.

  He smirked at her and shook his head. “You are so full of shit.”

  Lauren laughed. “I just had to betroth myself to some Arabian prince. Like I said, no big deal.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate. Totally worth it, but unfortunate,” he said, and Lauren leaned over and smacked his chest, causing him to laugh.

  “This is…” he looked back at the box, shaking his head before he lifted his eyes to hers. “Whatever you had to do to get this, seriously…thank you.” He leaned over, pulling her into his chest as he hugged her, and Lauren closed her eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” she said into his shirt.

  Too soon, she felt him release her, and she sat back as he stood from the bed and walked to the other side of the room. She assumed he was going to put the game into his system, but he walked past the television and over to his closet, grabbing something off the top shelf.

  When he turned back toward the bed, she could see it was a small square box wrapped in shiny green paper.

  “Merry Christmas Red,” he said, tossing the box to her before he sat back down on the bed.

  “You got me something? I thought you said—”

  “I know what I said. Shut up and open it.”