I closed my eyes, sighing. “Okay. Surprise me, then, Wyatt.”
“I will,” he said simply.
We had gotten back in the front of his jeep, and we rode off the grass and onto the road, making our way to his house so he could change out of the suit he had slept in. As we rode toward my apartment, we played the Never Have I Ever game. Instead of sipping on booze, we just stated whether we did or didn’t do the deed.
“Never have I ever slept with someone within an hour of meeting them,” I said, deciding to go first.
“Nope, never,” he confirmed. “Never have I ever...dated someone with a daddy kink,” he said.
A chuckle had caught in my throat. He made brief eye contact with me, causing me to gulp nervously. “I don’t know if this counts, but I went on one date with this guy a few years ago. I thought he was an odd individual before he even made it clear to me that he was into that sort of thing. I left him alone at the restaurant,” I promised.
He shook his head, grinning. “How do you know I don’t have a daddy kink?”
“Wyatt, no.”
“Willow, how do I know you don’t have a daddy kink?”
I cleared my throat, raising my eyebrows at him. “Never have I ever had a daddy kink.”
He laughed. “Nope, me neither.”
“I’m relieved,” I smiled at him.
We continued this until arriving to the apartment. We had gotten plenty of laughs out of one another.
After parking near the apartment, we walked towards my front door, hand in hand. We paused when we heard a loud, obnoxious woman yell out, “HEY!”
We looked up, cringing to the sound, to find Caitlyn looking down at us from the balcony. A cigarette was in her hand. She had put it out as I gave her a disapproving look. She smugly smiled at me before walking in the house.
“She’s a character,” Wyatt mumbled.
“She’s a nutcase,” I countered.
We went inside, and I heard Annette call me from upstairs.
“Mommy!”
I walked up the stairs quickly, knelt down on the living room floor, and hugged her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around my neck, and she repeatedly kissed my cheek.
“I missed you last night,” I whispered to her.
“I missed you so much, mommy,” she said sweetly. “Are we going somewhere with Mr. Blanquette?”
I could feel Wyatt standing behind me.
“Ask him,” I responded.
“Are we going somewhere with you, Mr. Blanquette?” she asked him softly, her chin resting on my shoulder.
“You can call me Wyatt outside of school, Annette. Is that okay with you?” he asked her.
I could feel her smile getting bigger. “Yeah, I like that name,” she said in awe. “Wyatt is a cool name.”
“Thank you. Annette is a pretty cool name, too,” he said. “And to answer your question, yes, we are going somewhere. Where would you like to go?” he asked her.
He knelt so he could talk to Annette face to face. Softly, he placed his left hand on my left shoulder. I looked at the side of Annette’s face, waiting for her to speak.
“Um…” she paused. “Oh, I know! How about the ice cream parlor? Everyone loves ice cream,” she said confidently.
“Sounds like a plan,” Wyatt responded to her, and then we had all stood on our feet.
“Let’s go,” Annette said immediately, already walking towards the stairs. “Bye, Aunt Catie!” Annette yelled to Caitlyn.
“Bye, little babe!” Caitlyn yelled back.
“Wait at the door, Annette!” I yelled to her.
Wyatt and I exchanged looks, turning to face Caitlyn as she stood in the kitchen.
I smirked at her. “So, how did last night go?” I asked her.
“Cloudy,” she mumbled, referring to cigarettes and alcohol. “Don’t worry,” she waved her hand in the air. “Little babe was sound asleep, and I stayed on the porch until I went to bed.”
“I trust you,” I promised. “Though, you do have me a bit worried sometimes.”
She rolled her eyes, smirking at my comment. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Wyatt,” she looked at Wyatt, forcing a smile. “The cast is gone. What are your feelings?”
“I feel relieved, I feel happy, I feel comfortable, and… I feel safe,” he responded. “That cast was god-awful.”
She nodded, thinking.
“I like his answer,” she looked at me. “He’s, like, a real person. Most guys would have said something stupid, like, ‘Oh, that cast was nothing, I’ve experienced worse,’ or ‘I don’t feel pain, broken bones are like broken fingernails.’” She covered her mouth dramatically. “Willow, I think you should keep him.”
“I think so, too,” I said.
Wyatt chuckled, because Caitlyn was trying to be funny. “And I don’t see the day where I’d ever want to leave,” he pointed out, deciding to add to the conversation.
He saying that had made my heart flip.
“We’re going to go now, okay, Caitlyn?” I said, but I was looking at Wyatt and Wyatt was looking at me.
She said, “Okay,” simply. “Have fun,” she added.
“Wait, didn’t you want to change clothes?” Wyatt asked me, confused.
I shook my head no. “I’ll just wear what I have on,” I shrugged.
He said, “Alright,” and then we left. Annette held both of our hands, standing in between us as we walked to Wyatt’s jeep.
On the ride to the ice cream parlor, Wyatt and I endured Annette’s taste in music. She sang along to each song, wiggling around in the backseat. She was happy and she was smiling. We all were happy and we all were smiling.
Caitlyn liked Wyatt. Annette liked Wyatt more than Caitlyn. I loved Wyatt more than I loved myself.
I could imagine life without Wyatt: dull and plain, my heart strained, and my happiness limited. I hadn’t wanted that. Not for me, not for him, not for anyone.
I wanted Wyatt to stay. That undiscovered, empty space I had left where living was still mandatory - I wanted Wyatt to keep that space forever. I wanted him to live life with me while there was still time. And I had known he wanted the same.
5:29p.m.
Wyatt preferred sherbet over ice cream. Annette devoured her little cup of chocolate ice cream, topped with sprinkles. I settled with rocky road. We had gone to the park afterward, and I recalled Wyatt whispering in my ear, “I remember that day at the hospital, when you told me that you and Annette liked going to the park. So, I wanted to go to the park with you today.”
I smiled, looking up at him. “Here we are,” I whispered.
“Here we are,” he echoed.
Annette had fun on the swings for a while. She had given the monkey bars a try, but wasn’t quite good at keeping herself up. She said her hands were burning. I told her, “That happens, sweetie.”
Wyatt smirked at me before telling Annette, “I was pretty good at the monkey bars when I was a kid.”
Annette then asked Wyatt to demonstrate his expertise, but he had been too big for the monkey bars.
Annette turned to me, pouting. “Can you show me, mommy?” she begged, smiling innocently.
I gave it a shot, and as I went from bar to bar, I told her, “You have to move as fast as you can if you don’t want your hands to start hurting.”
Annette nodded, and when I made it to the end, she tried again.
Every time she restarted, she got farther and farther to the end of the bars - until she finally made it there.
Wyatt and I told her she did a good job.
Now, we were back at the apartment. I wanted to stay the night with Wyatt again, and he had told me he wanted that, too. I told Annette to go brush her teeth before asking Caitlyn if it’d be okay if I spent another night away.
“Of course,” she said. She handed me my mail, then said, “I hope you two have a good night.” She smiled a tight smile that wasn’t real; a smile that I knew wouldn’t be there anymore once she realized she was better
off without Brian.
Wyatt and I left after telling Annette goodnight. She was glad I had Wyatt. My daughter could tell that I had been happier with Wyatt here with me. That would be a constant reminder that what Wyatt and I had was real. My daughter’s approval was all I ever needed.
When Wyatt and I got in his jeep, he looked at me, and said, “The day isn’t over.”
He looked like he was plotting. His smile was sly, and I was rolling my eyes as I pressed my head against the headrest. I wasn’t going to ask questions. I was going to let him surprise me.
“I guess it isn’t, huh?” I sighed blissfully, slightly turning my head to look at him.
Our eyes were hearts. We both saw love there, confronting us. Asking what we were waiting for.
At this point, I hadn’t known why we hadn’t said the words out loud yet. We felt the same thing, and our eyes said it all. It was as if that one word was written a thousand times in thin air, and we were reading and realizing the truth at the same time.
To me, truthful words didn’t fall flat compared to actions. The words we were both looking for were nice words to hear. I had known we’d both be telling the truth if we said the words out loud: I love you.
When a person is in love with someone, they tell them. They tell them out loud, because they want them to know. Why we weren’t saying the words out loud at this moment - I hadn’t known. But our eyes spoke for us, and we felt it. In the air, seemingly written there, we saw it.
That night, Wyatt took me to the train tracks again. We walked and talked. We went through a drive-thru after, and ate fat burgers with fries. We drank sugary soda as we absently made fun of the pedestrians that walked on the sidewalk in front of us; we sat parked in the parking lot.
We went to his house after an hour or so. I changed out of my dirty scrubs, and put one of his T-shirts on; no pants - he hadn’t cared.
He played some music, and we danced. We laughed. We loved harder, and it was amplified in that moment. Suddenly, we stopped dancing. Slightly, both of our mouths fell open as we stood there, staring at each other.
He grabbed my hands from his shoulders, held them in front of him, and then squeezed them. “Willow, I don’t want this to end,” he whispered.
“You just… have to believe in what’s considered make-believe,” I told him.
He paused for a moment. “That happened already,” he admitted.
“How so?” I asked.
He dropped my hands then, so he could bring both of his to my face. Instinctively, I held onto his elbows. “Because I love you so goddamn much, and you’re here. I… look forward to being alive, because now, you’re here. I didn’t think love like this was real, not even a little bit. I believe in what’s considered make-believe, because it took me no time at all to fall in love with you,” he said softly, letting out a sigh. “No time at all,” he whispered in repetition.
My eyes were wide as I soaked in what I was hearing - what I was hearing from Wyatt for the first time. “You just said-”
“I love you,” he interrupted me. “Yes, I did say those words. Three words I thought would be difficult to say to you, but they came out without warning. Fumbled, mindlessly spoken words are what they are. Except with you and me, those three words aren’t a sham. It’s real with us, and those words mean everything. I feel it in my soul, tingling. And I know you feel that, too, Willow. You feel it in your soul, too.”
“Tingling,” I said breathlessly.
He pulled me to him, holding me tightly, and he kissed me. I kissed him.
Tonight, we weren’t holding back. Tonight, he carried me to his bedroom. Tonight, he placed me on his bed. Tonight, he touched me everywhere as my hands roamed his back.
Our eyes said it all. Tonight, we made love for the first time. We stayed there in bed together. I traced my fingers over his bare body as we lay there, partially covered with blankets. He kissed my temple. I slowly inched the palm of my hand from his stomach to his chest, and then I just kept it there. Our eyes closed, and we drifted off. Through the night, my hand rested there, covering his heart - protecting it.
September 17th, 2006, 6:04a.m.
Willow
I woke up before him, remembering I had mail to go through. I got up from the bed quietly, pulled his shirt back over my head, and then tiptoed down the hall. I went into the living room, and grabbed the mail I had placed on the coffee table last night, and then scurried to the guest bathroom. I thought it’d just be a few bills, and some junk mail.
I sat on the toilet seat, thumbing through each piece of mail.
Junk mail - tossed it in the waste basket.
Junk mail - tossed it in the waste basket, too.
Cable bill - placed it on the countertop.
I was down to the last piece, which was a letter from Trace. Inside, there were two pieces of folded paper. One piece was folded twice, forming a rectangle, the other a few times, forming a little square.
Slowly, I opened the paper that was folded twice.
Dear Willow,
I just wanted to tell you that you’re in denial. You love that guy. You loved him when you came to visit me, and you love him now. Wyatt Blanket is his name, right? I can read the face of denial better than anything. Look at the truth, Willow. I know you’re strong enough to take it in. I’ll give you a little push. (This is that little push) Remember me saying I had something to give to you once you fall in love? Here it is. Not this note/letter, the other one. The little one. I didn’t write that. I don’t even know what it says. Your favorite person wrote that specifically for you, and he wanted me to give it to you whenever you fell in love. So, throw this one down. Grab that other one, and read the hell out of it so you can move on, and love Wyatt Blanket the way you should.
Love,
Trace
I hadn’t thrown the letter down that Trace had written for me. Instead, I placed it on the countertop with my cable bill. Slowly, I took the other note out of the envelope, and unfolded it. A shaky sigh broke past my lips as I read those words that were written by Kennedy, and seeing his handwriting for the first time in nine years. It was a poem, a sweet poem. It was a poem about our love, and how his illness had gotten in the way. He wrote this as an explanation for him leaving so suddenly, though I understood why he did it in the first place. Though I understood his purpose, then, I still couldn’t accept his absence. I was miserable, but it wasn’t his fault.
I was crying. I rubbed at my cheeks, swiping the tears away. I looked down past his signature to find a little note that wasn’t a part of the poem.
P.S. When you feel it burning in your heart, let yourself fall in love with someone else. Tell them you love them, so they know for sure. Don’t let the story of us be the end for you. You were my forever. I was your beginning.
I smiled weakly, tracing the words with my thumb. “More than anything, Kennedy. I miss you more than anything,” I whispered, my eyes closed.
What he had written here was the truth. In the back of my mind, I had already known Kennedy would have wanted me to fall in love, and move on from our past. His words helped me realize he hadn’t been my forever - and that I was his. He was my beginning. He’d always be my beginning. He was my first for everything. No one could take that from him. Death couldn’t, I couldn’t, and nor could Wyatt.
I folded the note, and then put it in the envelope along with Trace’s note. I grabbed all of my mail, holding it close to my chest as I exited the bathroom.
I placed the mail on the nightstand on my side of the bed before snuggling close to Wyatt. I wasn’t as quiet as I had been before. He woke up due to the sounds I had made, his hands grabbing my waist, pulling me closer.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
He opened his eyes, making eye contact with me, and then I saw it again. That love written in thin air for us to see - our eyes said it all.
“I love you so goddamn much,” I said calmly. I sounded almost casual, saying it out loud. It rolled right off my ton
gue. It just came out, naturally. It felt good saying those words to him for the first time. It was freeing and real and… everything.
He kissed me, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. Then his mouth was there, pressed to my earlobe. “I love you so goddamn much,” he whispered.
Love had us for the rest of our lives.
About The Author
Cristy Marie Poplin is a South Carolinian who currently lives in the state of Connecticut. She's a young, independent author who aims to obtain a Bachelor's degree in English within the next 4-5 years. She is also a freelance journalist and selective cover designer. The Pact of Strength is her debut novel which she self-published on May 1st, 2015.
E-mail: [email protected]
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cristy.poplin
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Our Last Time: A Novel Page 21
