Letting You Know

by Nora Flite

I can't change the past, but I can do the logical thing and replace the phone I talked her out of.

  Reaching out, I touched a shiny red one. It had a nice big screen, the newer style with the buttons hidden until you slid it open.

  Yeah, this is nice. I think she'd like this.

  Kneeling, I grabbed one of the boxes from under the shelf. I wasn't unaware of what it meant, buying a phone for Leah. The next part of the commitment was adding her to my own plan.

  Will she think that's weird, or forward of me?

  Frowning, I remembered what Nicholas had said to me in the car. Do I really think so far ahead, planning things out to impress people?

  Was I trying to impress Leah, or just helping her out because I cared?

  Or, maybe, as my heart had been warning me with painful throbs, because I...

  Because I think I'm falling in love with her.

  Turning, I almost slammed right into Bethany.

  “Careful!” She shouted, stepping back quickly.

  “Wh—are you stalking me?” I snapped, filling with a flicker of heated frustration. Can I not get away from her?

  Folding her arms, those blue eyes trembled with hesitance. I thought she looked hurt by my words, but if so, she hid it fast behind a scowl. “No, Nicholas called me. He said he needed a ride back from here, that you and him were fighting and he didn't want to drive back with you.”

  Blinking, taken aback by this news, I fought for some comment; anything, anything at all.

  He doesn't want to drive back with me. Is he wrong, though? I've been... I haven't been exactly patient with him.

  “What did you say to him?” She asked me, her eyebrows furrowing. There was no malice; her calm, curious demeanor let my guard down.

  Still, I couldn't bring myself to tell Bethany that Nicholas had admitted to me that he loved her. “I think I lost my temper with him a bit.”

  “Like you did last night?”

  My mouth dropped, as did my stomach. She knows about me shoving him down. I'm an idiot, of course he would tell her. My neck knotted, cramping up. “That wasn't... I didn't mean...”

  “Don't defend yourself to me,” she mumbled, spinning away briskly. “Tell it to him, he's the one suffering here. Apologize to him about what you've done, Deacon. That is, if you can get over your pride enough to even try. I'm going to go find him, guess we'll see you at your grandparents' place.”

  Her long coat swished as she clicked away down the tile on hard winter boots. In abject shock, I watched her go, wrangling with the melting pot of emotions she'd dropped into my lap.

  Have I hurt Nicholas that much? Was I just not paying attention this whole time? My whole life?

  Feeling like I wanted to crawl into a corner and hide from the world, I just let my chin fall to my chest.

  Was I really the one in the wrong?

  ****

  The car keys jingled in my hand, announcing me loudly before the dogs even started to bark. Stepping into the front room, kicking my boots against the floor mat, I felt the corgis slam into my legs.

  Though I was in a somber mood, their ridiculous grinning snouts pushed it into the back of my mind. Kneeling, I scratched their heads, laughing softly. “Hey girls.”

  “Hey,” someone else said.

  Leah, standing in the doorway of the kitchen in front of me.

  Her eyes were curious, but I was relieved to not spot any anger there. I'd wondered if she might be upset over being left to deal with my parents on her own.

  Standing, far too aware of the wrapped present tucked deep in my coat, I grinned. “Hey to you, too.”

  “Where did you go?” Leah cocked her head, her long dark hair rolling over the shoulder of her white sweater. I recognized it as the one she'd been waffling about wearing or not. “Your mom said you went off with Nicholas, but...”

  There, there was the first flicker of doubt. My mother had said I was with my brother, yet here I was, returning alone.

  The lines on my forehead felt hard. Reaching up, I rubbed them away nervously. “Right. About that. I did go out with him, he needed to do some shopping.” I lifted a bag I was carrying, stuffed with wrapped gifts; a new coffee mug for my mother and a bunch of socks for my dad. “I needed some stuff, too, for my parents. Mom, she thought we should spend some time together...” I trailed off, closing my eyes.

  “Didn't go so well, I take it.” Leah spoke softly, bluntly. She seemed to understand why I had returned alone.

  “That's putting it nicely,” I said, forcing a light laugh. Looking back at her, noticing the way she was clenching her hands at her sides, I frowned. “Hey, relax. It's fine, he just had a little go at me. I can't say I didn't deserve it,” I admitted.

  I watched her actively ease her hands apart, flexing her fingers. “So, at least tell me you didn't ditch him on the side of the road.”

  Adjusting my coat, I shook my head quickly. “No, no of course not. He actually ended up calling...” I was halted by the wave of guilt that bloomed in me. Why do I feel so bad about telling her about Bethany?

  “Calling...?” She asked me, lifting her eyebrows high. When I hesitated too long, her pretty lips scrunched together. “Oh. I get it. Yeah, that makes sense, ringing up his girlfriend.”

  The desire to explain myself was too strong. Stepping closer, ignoring the dogs still sitting around my feet, I implored her with my eyes. “She just showed up, out of no where. I promise, that's it. She hardly talked to me before she ran off to track him down and take him to Granddad's.”

  “I believe you,” she sighed, that pale face looking whiter than ever. “Sorry, I'm just struggling with this whole thing still. It was weird to wake up alone, then to find you weren't here. Your mom, I don't know,” she dropped her voice, leaning in. “She's hard to read, I think she might not like me.”

  “She's just getting to know you,” I assured her, pulling her towards me for a solid embrace. It felt wonderful to have her so close to me. My problems seemed so much smaller when Leah was in my arms.

  Her limbs squeezed me, but she didn't linger. Pulling away, she flashed me a quick, sharp smile. “Well, I'm worried that if she really gets to know me, she'll like me less.”

  Is she talking about when I cut her off at dinner, when she was on the verge of saying she had dropped out of school?

  Leah was watching me, taking in my expression. I knew I had given myself away with my silence, my wrinkled brow. “I'm—about that, I didn't mean...”

  “You need to decide,” she said very slowly, precisely, “if you actually mean it when you say you accept me for my past, and that it doesn't matter if anyone else does. If you mean it, let me choose what they learn about me. Otherwise, I'm going to start thinking you're ashamed of me.” Her voice cracked, hot emotion and wet tears ready to fall free.

  Gripping her cheeks, my thumbs traced the curve of her soft skin. “Leah, no. No, please, that isn't it. I was just trying to—to help you, to keep you from...”

  “From messing up?” She asked, seething with a bitterness I didn't expect. “From telling them the truth about anything, knowing they might judge you for it?”

  I couldn't answer her. I had already been questioning myself so much lately, my defenses were fragile.

  Yes, she's right. I thought I was ready, but when put back into this setting... around these people, my own past... I became ashamed.

  I wanted to fix this, solve everything and make it better. The sound of shoes in the kitchen, moving our way, halted my chance.

  Leah pushed back, wiping her eyes quickly to hide the evidence of her mood. My mother rounded the corner, leaning past her, squinting at me by the door. “Deacon! You're back, good. Your father was starting to get worried we'd leave late. Come on, go get your stuff so we can load up the car.”

  I forced myself to look away from Leah. It was easier when she started the process, her head hanging down, turning to display her profile. I could see how tight her jaw was. “Yeah, okay, no problem. Here are the keys,
thanks for letting me borrow your car.”

  She reached out, taking them from me, tucking them in her pocket. “Oh, grab your brother's bag, too. I guess he decided to ride up with Bethany.” There was an unspoken question in her casual statement. My mother wanted to know what had happened, but she wouldn't ask right then. Not with Leah in earshot.

  “Alright,” I said, keeping my tone flat.

  With nothing more to say, the older woman vanished, giving Leah and myself another chance at a private bubble. A bubble in which I hoped I could try and explain, to apologize for my missteps.

  I'd made many as of late.

  “Leah,” I whispered. She lifted her head, looking past me, over my shoulder. Those glistening eyes wouldn't find mine, no matter how hard I worked.

  Reaching out, I tried to take her hand, but she wrenched it away without an attempt at subtlety.

  She doesn't even want me to touch her. How long has she been holding that in? Dammit, being around my family, this house, makes it so hard to just have some privacy and talk to her!

  Leah pushed her hair behind her ears, then turned, exiting without a word.

  I was left behind in the front room. Alone, but for the dogs curled at my feet. They whimpered, pulling me from my moment of depression. Reaching down, I scratched their long ears, making them slobber contently.

  Why can't all mistakes be fixed as easily?

  Slipping upstairs to my room, I moved in a fog. There were too many problems, none of them seemed things I could mend in the moment.

  Leah thinks I'm ashamed of her, and truthfully, maybe I... No, I was only hoping to protect her! But, I wondered, reaching for my suitcase on the floor, doesn't that come from a similar place? Does part of me want to save her, by hiding away the parts of her I think my family would dislike?

  Why does it matter what they think? She's right, I told her I didn't care. I need to remind myself of that.

  When I was sure I had everything I needed, I moved over to the other mattress. Nicholas had left his bag open, clearly planning on having time to organize it better when he returned.

  This whole conflict, too... it's my fault. I shouldn't have gotten so angry at Nicholas. Even if he's with Bethany, it's awful of me to punish him for it.

  Especially if he really does love her.

  Something in the bag rustled, the sound of paper. Trying to zip the bag shut, finding it impossible, I began digging inside to rearrange things. My fingers brushed on some hard objects, my intuition knowing what they were before I saw them.

  Several small presents were buried among his socks and shirts. I should be careful with these, he'd hate to have gifts crushed. Tugging them free, my eyes roamed across the scribbled name tags.

  I almost dropped them.

  My name, and Leah's?

  It wasn't the fact he had gotten me a gift that stunned me so much. I was, perhaps, a little amazed he'd done so for my new girlfriend.

  But the true issue, as I held those shiny items, was that I realized with horror and shame...

  I hadn't gotten Nicholas anything.

  Chapter 10.

  The drive to my grandparents would be a long one. Because of this, leaving a little after noon, we'd packed a few things in the truck. Snacks, magazines, even a sketchbook kept us company.

  I only wanted Leah for company, and with my parents mere feet away, I could hardly have that.

  With Christmas music piping through the vehicle, the grey world rolling by outside, I felt in the least cheerful of moods.

  My brain was still caught up in trying to figure out what to do about Nicholas. I was sure he was right, about everything. All these years, I'd been subconsciously ignoring him. To the point that this time, I hadn't even gotten him a gift.

  It hadn't even crossed my mind.

  Closing my eyes, inhaling at a pace that matched the hum of the engine, I sank into misery.

  Everyone is right to be angry with me. I messed it all up, all of it. I just wish I knew...

  I wish I knew how to fix it.

  “Hey,” my dad said, breaking through my gloom. “I'm going to stop in here to fill up the tank, you guys need to stretch your legs?”

  “Yeah,” Leah said, rousing me enough that I glanced at her. She didn't meet my eyes.

  “Sure,” I mumbled.

  We rolled into an old gas station, the place welcoming in the shadow of the swollen clouds. “I wish it would just snow already,” my mom chuckled, climbing from the truck.

  Pushing open the jingling door of the building, I looked around at the racks lit by fluorescent lights.

  Leah slid past me, wandering towards the back wall of the store. Consciously, I followed her, noting my mother had left us as she went to find a restroom.

  Standing a few feet back, I watched Leah as she located the coffee pots. Like a bug to a zapper, it seemed she couldn't resist the hot stuff; it made me smile. I moved next to her, ignoring the awful, bitter scent. “Here, let me get you a cup.”

  “I can get it,” she muttered, reaching for a container. Feeling helpless, I stood by while she poured a steaming cup of coffee. When she put a lid on it, snapping it shut, I reached for her shoulder.

  “Leah, hold up, please.”

  She didn't pull away, I felt a glimmer of hope. “Your parents are going to want to get going,” she said flatly.

  “Listen to me,” I whispered, leaning in close. The scent of coffee burned my nose, I pined to smell the familiar sweetness of her hair instead. “This whole trip... it's been a mess. But it's my fault, and I know that.”

  Blinking, she pointed her eyes up at me. Staring into those dark irises, it was like being allowed back into her world; a place I had longed to grasp at far too long, finding constant missteps on the way.

  Filling with hope, as well as more sour guilt, I pushed on. “I should never have stopped you from telling my parents anything. It was wrong of me, and stupid. I do mean it when I say I don't care if they approve of you or not. But being here, being home, it's brought back a whole mess of weird insecurities. Does that make... am I making sense?”

  “Kind of,” she mused, darting a look to the side. “I don't—I don't want this tension. I hate it, it hurts and makes me just want to get away. The idea you might not like me, accept me, after I started to think you really did...” She paused, biting her lip, ready to say more. “Deacon, that day in the airport, I actually felt like... I felt—”

  I wanted to know so badly what had been on her lips, but right then, my mother trundled up with a smile. “Oh! Coffee, that's a fantastic idea, Leah.”

  No, dammit, I want to know what she was about to tell me!

  Leah pulled away, gripping her cup and blushing furiously. It was frustrating to be forced apart again, but the heavy air that had surrounded her and I had lifted.

  She shot me a small smile, sipping from her coffee as my mother poured her own. “I should go buy this. Um, actually,” she pointed to the case of baked goods beside me, “could you grab me a doughnut out of there, too, Deacon?”

  Laughing, delighted to see her appetite was strong, I reached in; taking out two pastries covered in green and red frosting. “I'll join you.”

  It was a small thing on the surface, sharing a snack with Leah. My mother didn't bat an eye as we gathered our treats and paid at the counter.

  But her and I knew.

  We knew as we smiled at each other, luxuriating in the soft, decadent way the dough yielded under our teeth. How sweet the frosting was, sticking to our tongues.

  Sharing that moment, a private moment where we both knew what the other was tasting, experiencing, while no one else around us was involved...

  To us, after everything, it was exactly what we needed.

  ****

  We arrived at my grandparents' farm in the thick shadow of the late winter evening. Still no snow had fallen, the clouds angry with their threatening swells of black and white.

  Familiar, old, the faded yellow siding of the small house
made me smile. A gnarled but strong oak tree that had grown on the back hill for as long as I remembered drew my eye. There was a tire hanging from a wide branch, a swing my father pushed me on often as a child.

  Seeing it hang there, lonely in the wind, made me feel a hard chill. I wanted nothing more than to get inside and see the smiling face of my granddad.

  Looking out the window, the warm light over the front door of the house was a welcome sight. The blue SUV that I knew to be Bethany's, however, was not.

  It's no surprise they beat us here, really.

  Scrambling from our car, we gathered up bags until our arms were stuffed. No one wanted to make a second trip out into the icy weather, especially not after tasting what was sure to be the warm air inside the house.

  We didn't make it to the step before the front door swung open. My chest swelled, delighted by the nostalgic image of my grandfather standing there waiting for us. His eyes twinkled, a genuine expression of delight.

  “Come in, come in!” He cried, contradicting his words as he stopped each of us outside with a firm hug. With packed arms, I did my best to squeeze back.

  “Hey Grandaddy,” I said, grinning at his strong grip on my shoulders. “This is Leah.” Motioning with my head to the girl beside me, I slid past and into the delicious heat of the home.

  Leah, if she had been nervous or wary, lost her walls instantly in the face of my grandfather's pure happiness. It was impossible to resist his demeanor.

  He wrapped her in a hug, then took all the bags from her, ignoring her protests. “Good to meet you!” He cried out, glancing at me and giving a wink. “She's a real doll, isn't she?”

  Her blush was red hot.

  Laughing, unable to help myself, I winked back. “She sure is. Now let's get her inside before she freezes.”

  My parents pointed the way down the hall, we followed with our haul. I could hear voices in the living room seconds before we entered.

  Bethany... and Nicholas.

  The huge Christmas tree in the corner of the room was beautiful. Below it, shiny presents glowed, a sight that sent me back fifteen years. I'd always loved coming here for the holidays, my grandparents had given me strong memories.