Until I Knew Myself

by Tammy L. Gray

  “Good. I’ll get Jimmy on it first thing.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tyler left the office drained. Beck’s door was closed, a clear indication he didn’t want to be disturbed. Too bad. Tyler walked the ten feet over to his secretary’s desk. “Hey Meredith. You look like the only one here not completely freaked out by Mr. Kinder’s arrival.”

  Meredith’s gray curls didn’t budge as she pulled her eyes away from the computer screen and gave Tyler a toothy smile. “That is because I’m the only one here old enough to tell that man to stop scaring everyone. I still remember when he wasn’t much taller than this desk.”

  Meredith was seventy-two, had no problem voicing her opinion, and had the instincts and mental sharpness of a thirty-year old. She’d worked for Harold’s father and knew more about the company than everyone in the building combined. She’d tried to retire twice, but Harold talked her out of it.

  “Speaking of a young Kinder, is Beck available?”

  She arched one brow, adding to the lines in her forehead. “Nope, and he’s blocked out today and tomorrow, but I can do three on Friday. That work for you?”

  Tyler eyed the closed door again. “Yeah. Friday is fine.”

  If Beck needed more time, he’d give it to him. And besides, he wasn’t the only one Tyler needed to reconcile with.

  There was a girl with a beautiful heart who’d been waiting years for Tyler to figure out who he was and what he wanted.

  The wait seemed so frivolous now.

  For years, he’d missed the family he had right in front him. He took for granted the love they freely gave him. He didn’t value it. Not like he should have.

  It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  Journey’s painting wasn’t the end of their story. They were being tugged apart, yes, and she may have loosened her grip.

  But he was stronger now, and he had no intention of letting her go.

  Chapter 35

  Journey stretched her arms high above her head, welcoming the pull on her muscles. She hadn’t moved in three hours, not since the last student left the building and she’d been free to pull out the painting she couldn’t even look at months ago. The last painting she’d finished before quitting all together. The painting that had been her final mouthpiece, revealing all the anger, fear and betrayal of her father’s rejection.

  A large intake of new air filled her lungs and a smile moved across her lips. She’d painted light onto the dark swirls of chaos. Added hope where only despair had been. Staring at that painting, she suddenly felt wildly free.

  Satisfied, Journey scooped up her brushes and made it two steps before her phone sang a tune that had her body jolting. It was Ty’s ring tone. Carefully, she set her brushes back down, wiped her hands and picked up the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “You are a very hard person to track down.” Wind crackled through the receiver nearly covering the sound of his voice. “Come let me in.”

  Her head snapped to the window and she eased around two groups of chairs to get to it. Lifting on her toes, she eyed her lonely car in the parking lot, only now it had a friend, and sure enough Ty was standing at the corner entrance. The one only teachers used when school wasn’t in session.

  “Okay,” she stammered, not even having time to process why he’d be there. They hadn’t spoken in three days, not since that night out on his land. If she were smarter, she’d put some boundaries in place, protect her heart a little better, but there was this sense that these small moments may be the last she was given, and missing them wasn’t an option.

  Tucking the phone into her pocket, Journey rushed to the hallway, and down to the emergency exit. The alarms weren’t set, so she pushed open the door.

  Ty entered and a rush of wind blew hard against her. “Ugh. This weather,” he groaned, pushing against the force to close the door behind him. His hair was a tangled mess, unruly pieces partially covering his eyes. He dragged his hand through strands, a motion as familiar as it was comforting. “My contractor shut down the job site it was so bad out there.”

  She stared at him. Even through the complaints, there was something lighter, freer in his demeanor. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.” He smiled and tugged on a piece of painted hair. “Cute.”

  His eyes. They were…joyous. His entire countenance was.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to.” His brow furrowed. “Is that a problem?”

  “No.” Only yes it was because it hurt to see him.

  “Okay then. Show me what you’re working on.” His smile returned as he strolled toward her open classroom door. She followed, fighting off the instinct to hold this version of Ty as close as she could. This man had been the first to really know her, to see beyond the looks and the money, to read her thoughts and fears even when they were unclear to her. He’d been her constant for so long, but he’d also walked away and refused to love her completely. How could she possibly reconcile those two people?

  By the time she joined him, he was perched in front of her canvas, examining the painting like a seasoned critic.

  “You changed it,” he said.

  “I improved it.” She stood to his right, side by side. “I couldn’t let this picture define me anymore.”

  He turned to face her. “It never defined you. It just stifled you for a little while.” Again, he grinned and it went all the way inside her chest.

  “You seem really happy.” She pushed down the part of her that ached to be the one who made him this way.

  “I think optimistic is a better word.”

  “Okay, optimistic then.”

  He studied the painting more. “What made you pull this out today?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.” He was doing it again. That furious insight into her heart that rattled her to the core. He’d seen past her armor since the first day their eyes met.

  “Fine. I do know, but first, why are you here? I thought… I don’t know, I thought the other night was a goodbye.” Closure.

  “Did you want it to be goodbye?” His voice hitched in surprise, which just confused her more.

  What she wanted to do was stomp her feet and tell him to stop the up and down. The not knowing which Ty was going to show up—the soft, sensitive one she’d fallen in love with or the cold, distant one who refused to open up.

  “Actually, don’t answer that yet.” He pulled two chairs from down the aisle and turned them until they faced each other. Then he took her hands and tugged her over. He reached back in his pocket and pulled out two sadly smashed bluebonnets and offered them to her. “They’re pathetic, but they were the best I could find and between the wind and my pocket, well, in this case it’s going to need to be the thought that counts.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand and felt a giddy laugh escape. “You brought me bluebonnets?”

  “I promised you I would, every year. I’m just sorry I’m so late giving them to you.”

  He extended a hand and she sat, holding the delicate flowers close to her chest. Ty straddled his chair and sat as well, scooting forward until his knees were touching hers. “The night we broke up, you asked me for three things.”

  She swallowed. There was nothing about that evening she wanted to remember.

  “At the time, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to give you what you needed; it was that I was incapable of it.” He took her free hand in his. It was warm, soothing. “And that’s why it hurt so bad when I was gone. I loved you. I wanted to be that person for you, but I had no idea how to be someone I didn’t know.” He took a deep breath and squeezed her fingers tighter. “I did you a disservice when I tried to get back together after I came home. Truth was, I was more lost than ever at that point. And lonely. Gosh, I was so incredibly lonely. But in my head, I thought one would fix the other. We’d get back together first and then find some way to make it work.”

  “But you st
ill weren’t ready.” She stared down at the floor, knowing all too well what was coming. They’d been heading toward this for a while. It was better to know now and let the dream go for good.

  “No,” he said softly. “Which is why when I learned about my grandfather, I failed you.”

  Her head popped back up. “What do you mean? I’m the one who kept it from you.”

  “Yes, but I failed you because I couldn’t see past myself and my own pain. That isn’t what being in a relationship is about. It’s about being a partnership. Walking through trials together.” He lifted his hand and ran it lovingly over her hair. “It’s being brave enough to tell the truth, even when the other person doesn’t want to hear it. You’ve shown me this.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes and she found she couldn’t speak or they would spill everywhere.

  “Before, I wasn’t ready to respond to your needs, but I am now.” He touched her cheek, wiped her first teardrop with his thumb. “Please ask me again.”

  Her voice shook but the words came forth. “I need more time with you.”

  “I agree. I missed you, too,” he said, and she was catapulted back to that night with the TV set on low, the dinner she’d made, cold and ruined on the table. To her surprise the hurt came back as well, just as fierce as it had been.

  “It didn’t seem like it,” she whispered.

  “I know. I worked too many hours and I wasn’t ever on time. But that’s going to change. Harold was back in the office today. He offered me a new position. A division chief for a new savings and loan arm of the company.”

  “It sounds perfect for you,” she said even though it meant another learning curve to navigate, another year of proving himself, another year they would struggle to find time together.

  “It is perfect. And he warned me it will demand lots of time.”

  “His positions usually do.”

  “I told him I’d take it, but with certain limitations.”

  She felt a smile slip through. “What kind of limitations?” Ty had never imposed any of those in the past.

  “Reasonable hours. Weekends only when absolutely necessary.” He grinned, too. The air was changing between them. Like her painting, something hopeful had begun to trace over the pain. “And no additional requirements that would make having a steady, healthy relationship impossible.”

  “And he was amenable to that?”

  “I didn’t give him a choice.”

  Her heart leapt a little, or at least that’s what it felt like. “I’m okay with that answer,” she said.

  “Good. Now the next one.” His eyes twinkled slightly with mischief and even though this demand had caused a huge rift between them before, she felt more confident asking it this time.

  “I need more of your heart.”

  “You have all of my heart. You always have. But I haven’t been very good at showing you that, and I’m going to try a lot harder to be open about my feelings. To let you in when I’m hurting. It’s going to take some time. It’s not something I’m used to doing, but I’m going to try.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Now, before we get to the last one…” He stood, pulling her up with him. “In that same breath that night, you told me you felt incomplete. And like you, I thought it was me who needed to fill that void.”

  He kept his hand in hers and led her to her painting until she stood directly in front it. Stepping behind her, his hands landed on her shoulders, then trailed down her arms, until they encircled her waist and tugged her tight against him.

  “I want you to look at this painting and tell me what you see.” His voice caressed her ear, soft and persuasive.

  She studied the swirls of black, the course strikes she’d made against the canvas. “I see darkness and pain.”

  “What else?”

  Her eyes grazed over the yellow she’d added, the touch of white that ran parallel to the black, blending to a shade of soft gray. “Hope, forgiveness, light.”

  His lips trailed kisses up her neck and she closed her eyes gripping at his arms or she might fall.

  “I can’t make you feel whole,” he whispered. “But I don’t think you need me to anymore. I think you’ve found that strength in yourself.”

  And she had. Somehow in these four weeks of turmoil, she’d learned to stand on her own.

  His hands roamed, sliding to her side, tugging her around until they were standing chest to chest. She tensed and melted at the same time. They were in the middle of her classroom, at her workplace, and yet her fingers bunched the material of his shirt.

  He lowered his forehead to hers. “Give me the last one.”

  “I need more commitment.” And she knew as soon as the words drifted through the air what was about to happen.

  His body slipped down and she watched, holding her breath until he landed on one knee. He was now the one looking up at her, anticipation and what seemed to be a little fear. “I’m sorry you’re going to have to tell our kids I proposed to you on a waxed linoleum floor.”

  She laughed through her tears. He could propose in a bathroom and she wouldn’t care.

  “Journey, I don’t think I ever understood love. Not really. Not the kind that didn’t have to be earned in some way. And because of that, I could never love you the way you needed. The way I knew I needed to.”

  She couldn’t stand it. Her so high and him so low. This wasn’t how they were. They were partners, equals. She lowered herself to the floor, until they were eye to eye. The motion seemed to relax him and bring more confidence.

  “I’m ready now.” From his pocket, he pulled out a ring. The square diamond glittered against the florescent lights, but she could only see a blurred reflection. “Marry me, Journey. Not the man I’ve been, but the one I promise I will be from now on.”

  There are moments when your heart breaks and swells at the same time. When there is so much love flooding in and out of your soul that you wonder if the tide will whisk you along with it.

  This was that moment with Ty.

  “Of course I’ll marry you.”

  His hands trembling as much as hers were, he slid the ring on her finger. A perfect fit. He cupped her face so she was staring directly into his glassy eyes.

  “Thank you for waiting so long.” Forehead now on hers, he inhaled like a man drowning. “I promise I’ll be worth it.”

  “You always have been.” She kissed his damp cheek, both of his eyelids and finally settled on his lips. The pressure was returned with frenzied elation.

  “I love you,” he whispered. And then said it again and again between every tender kiss, between every soul-aching promise she knew in her heart he’d do anything to keep.

  Chapter 36

  Journey floated through the doors of Yellowtree, the diamond on her left ring finger catching every ray of sunshine filtering through the clouds. Her students had made the entire day a fairy tale. They’d oohed and ahhed and asked her a million questions about the wedding and the groom. And of course, she flitted around the room like a love-sick teenager answering every single one but the when.

  She wanted a wedding with all her friends participating, which meant a lot of mending of hearts. Beck’s the first one on her list. He needed to be Ty’s best man. And until that was possible, they’d wait.

  Smiling at everyone she passed, Journey made her way to the front desk and rested her adorned hand on the counter.

  “Oh my gosh, is that what I think it is?” Carrie gushed. She grabbed Journey’s fingers for a closer look. “Ty?”

  “Of course, Ty.” Journey pulled her hand away, trying not to be insulted. “Who else would it be?”

  “I don’t know. I figured the guy who’s been here to see Victoria might be a new love interest. He said he was a close friend of yours.”

  “Wait. What guy?”

  “Jonathan.”

  “Who?”

  “Jonathan Smith. You know, dark hair, bright blue eyes, the kind that make you squirm a little
because they’re so intense. Cute in a dangerous sort of way.” She grew less confident with every description that Journey didn’t recognize.

  “I don’t know a Jonathan Smith. He’s been to see my grandma?”

  “Yes, several times.”

  She continued to think through her grandmother’s contacts until…no. Journey grabbed the visitation log, her gaze landing on every line that had Jonathan Smith written. She stopped at the day he first showed up. The day after they’d met at Morton’s when she’d told him where her grandmother was staying.

  Dustin was Jonathan Smith. The most common alias on the planet.

  “John Smith? Really? Do you guys even vet these people?”

  Worry filled Carrie’s brow. “He had a driver’s license,” she stammered. “He knew about her condition, everything. I thought…”

  He knew because Journey had told him. Dustin hadn’t just conned Ty. He’d come after her, too.

  She didn’t bother signing in and ignored Carrie’s apologies following her down the hall. Rushing toward her grandmother’s room, Journey tried her best to keep her heart at a slow, steady beat, and her face a practiced smile. She didn’t need to set her grandmother off in hysterics, even though she felt very close herself.

  Her pulse slowed when she finally entered the small room. Her grandmother sat in her recliner chair, a blanket on her lap. “Well hello, Dear,” she said, setting down the book she held. “Can I help you with something?”

  Journey was in no mood to play along. Tears stung her eyes. This woman was the only close family she had, and the thought of anyone taking advantage cut at the very core of her heart. “It’s me, Nana. Journey.”

  She ventured forward, despite the confusion and kneeled near the chair. “I’m Timothy’s daughter.” Her father’s name caused her grandma to chuckle. “Oh hun, I’m afraid you have the wrong person. My Timmy is just a boy. His tenth birthday is next week.” She sighed, content. “It’s to be a grand event. One even Sissy McCormick will envy.”