“I know.”
I think of how Beth treated me when I told her of my connection to Ethan. She could’ve easily resented me; her experience with Jen proved she was capable of it. But maybe it wasn’t just that she was a precious cinnamon roll. Maybe she just loves me a lot.
“So I had good reason to be nervous when I saw you and my brain literally stopped working,” Ethan says, quirking a confident grin in my direction. The twisting of his foot is the only hint that it’s a facade.
“It did not,” I murmur, ducking my head away.
“Are you going to keep doubting my stories or what?” he demands. “Honestly, when I realized you were my soulmate, I was relieved. And, well, shocked. I felt like a cradle robber.”
I scoff. “Ethan, you’re only three years older. It’s not like you’re 40.”
“Thank God,” he snorts.
As the humor dies away, I process what he said. Could he really actually be interested in me? “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why were you interested in me?”
He shrugs. “Well, first, it’s because you’re adorable.”
“How can you say things like that with a straight face?” I squawk.
“It’s true!”
I’m not sure if I’m flushing from firsthand or secondhand embarrassment.
“So you just think I’m hot,” I say dryly, trying to keep myself from freaking out.
“No,” he says, gently tugging the end of the towel away from my cheek. I feel the impressions of the soft graze of his fingers on my skin long after his hand retreats. “I really like you. All of you. And before you say anything: no one’s perfect, Abby. Least of all me.”
I don’t understand this. I can’t understand it. I almost want to demand he explain, but that would make me sound narcissistic, wanting to drown in compliments.
“Oh,” I murmur. “Um.”
He smiles softly at me. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer me.”
“But,” I burst out, “if you…like me - " Good Lord, I sound like I’m back in middle school " - why’d you tell me to contact Greg?”
His lips purse. “It’s not like I want you to. But it’s what’s best for you.”
“You’re crazy,” I say.
“Listen. If we’re together, we’ll be miserable,” he says. “Get that tortured look off your face. I’m not saying it’s because of you. I just mean that you always wanted to get out of this town. You hated it ever since you were a kid. Do you remember when you watched It’s a Wonderful Life with me and my mom?”
Of course. It was December, just before Christmas. Mrs. Perry had learned I’d never seen the film, and she invited me over when it came on TV. I’d cried for ages, but not over how sweet it was. I thought it was horribly depressing at the time. All George Bailey wanted to do was see the world. He wanted out of his town. And he was stuck there, forever. Yes, Bedford Falls was a wonderful (pun intended) town, with people who loved him and he loved back. But life kept stabbing him in the back. At the time, I didn’t see how sacrificing your dream made you happy. I haven’t seen the movie since, but the bitterness I felt back then left a sour impression.
“You never wanted to be trapped here,” Ethan says solemnly. “And I can’t leave.”
He looks away before continuing. “Mom’s condition is getting worse. I can’t leave her alone. I’m stuck here. But Abby, you don’t deserve to be tied down.”
I should say something. I should say, “No, I want to be with you” or “I love Lake Redwood now” or something. But I can’t. I’ve reconnected with Ethan, but not in a romantic way, not really. Okay, yes, I’m attracted to him. Plenty of people would be. But that’s not enough to throw away all my previous goals.
I bite my lip. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. Ethan’s hurting and every part of me wants to make it better, but I don’t know how much of it is because I’m empathetic toward an old friend.
He pokes my nose.
I jerk away. “Huh?”
“Stop biting your lip.”
It does hurt. I scowl. I don’t like him being right. It makes everything worse, him looking out for me.
“Look, don’t worry about it, okay? There’s no law saying soulmates need to get married or something. Go, live your dream.”
I fold my arms. “Did you just quote Tangled?”
His expression shutters closed. “No. Different movie.”
“No, that was definitely Tangled. Oh my gosh, do you watch Disney films?”
Now it’s his turn to scowl. “There is nothing wrong with appreciating animation. It’s a unique art form.”
Now that I think about it, Ethan did always draw. “Do you still draw?”
“Nah. Just doodles here and there.” There’s something wistful in his face. Did he dream of being an animator one day, or some sort of artist? Did he give it up because he thought he needed to?
Ethan Perry is so kind, it breaks my heart.
I glance out the window. It’s brighter now; the storm must have passed. Rain continues to drip outside the windowpane, but it’s only from the roof.
“I should get going.” I don’t move, though. I don’t want to seem like I’m running away, even though I think I am.
“Okay.”
“Will you text me, when your mom gets home?”
He stares at me blankly for a moment, but he nods. “Of course. Thanks, Abby.”
I shake my head. I don’t deserve it. “Thank you. And…I’m sorry.” For not being the soulmate he deserves. For all he’s going through.
He smiles softly at me. For an instant, I let myself daydream. What would it be like, if Ethan and I started dating? If we acted like real soulmates? What would it be like to kiss him, for him to hold me? What would our dates be like? What would it be like if we got married or had children or grandchildren? Would I be happy? The real question: Would he?
I pull the towel, letting it slither around my neck and fall into my hands. I’m colder already. “Here,” I say, holding it out to him. “Thank you.”
He takes it. “Don’t forget your stuff.”
Good thing he said something; I almost had. He unplugs my Roku while I grab my backpack and purse. I hold my bag open while he sets the device inside it, then zips it shut. My eyes meet his. Silence stretches for what seems far too long to just be a few seconds long.
“Do you think you’ll still throw the birthday party for your mom?” I blurt.
A corner of his lip moves upward. “I hope so. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Are we good?” he asks.
I don’t know how to answer that.
“I mean,” he says, recognizing my hesitation, “are you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Are-are you?”
“Yeah.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. Is it weird I want to kiss it? Come on, Abby. You’re becoming the woman you swore you’d never be: someone swayed simply because some guy has the same tattoo she does.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” he asks.
“No. I think the fresh air will do me good. And you’ve had a long day.”
“You sure?”
I smile a little. “Yeah.”
I hesitate. Do I hug him? Kiss him on the cheek? Instead, I thrust my hand out. Bewildered but amused, he slowly wraps his hand around mine and shakes it.
“Well,” I say. “See you later.”
“Yeah,” he replies. His hand’s much warmer than mine. “Have a good night.”
“You too.”
When the front door closes behind me, it feels like I’ve shut a book I never had the chance to open.
* * *
It’s one in the morning when I gain the courage to send a single text to Greg. Hi.
Chapter 13
I sip my cheap wine as I listen to the music. The playlist has, so far, been a mix of country, ‘80s pop hits, and modern R&B. It makes me smile. I don’t know anyone
whose musical taste is as eclectic as Mrs. Perry’s.
She arrived home a week after she was admitted, her eyesight mostly restored and her speech improved. Ethan texted me that she had some appointments coming up over the next week or two, but otherwise, she was doing much better, though she remained in her wheelchair. According to Beth, though, she’s barely been out of that thing in years.
There are over thirty people here, more than I expected. I suppose I always thought of Mrs. Perry as a sort of recluse, a less depressing Miss Havisham. It’s good seeing her with all these people who care about her. They flood the living room, the kitchen, the back porch. I’d come over with Beth yesterday to clean the place and get the decorations up, so it’s good to see it was worth it.
Ethan and I haven’t spoken much. That’s normal, I guess. We said hello, but he’s been busy with his mother and her friends, while I’ve been trying to figure out this new dynamic.
“You girls did well,” Mom says, appearing beside me. “This is a nice party.”
“Where’s Beth?” I ask, surveying the room.
“I think she’s talking to the Bennett boy. Man, I guess. You know, the one who lives uptown?”
“Oh, right,” I say, although I can’t really remember. He moved in right after I left Lake Redwood.
“It’s good for her to be with someone. I was getting worried I wouldn’t have any grandkids,” Mom sighs. “At least I’ve almost got a guarantee with you.”
“Mom,” I hiss. “Shut up.”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way.”
I cringe but keep my mouth shut. It’s ten times more embarrassing than otherwise since she said that here, at my soulmate’s house. Ugh. I hope he didn’t hear.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see him in the corner, talking to Mr. Walter. Good. There’s no way he heard.
Still, it’s a little odd that he’s talking to his employer. Yeah, we’re a tight community, but doesn’t he have any other friends besides Beth and, I guess, me?
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, averting my eyes as soon as Ethan glances toward me.
“Who knows?” Mom says, shrugging. “Probably on the porch, talking to Mike and Daryl about going fishing.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why were you so excited for me to get my soulmate Mark? It didn’t do you and Dad any favors.”
Mom purses her painted lips, digging into her purse.
“They’re not there,” I say. “I threw them out. They’re not good for you.”
“Of course they’re not, but I already paid for them,” she scowls, tossing her purse back on the table. “I might as well use them.”
“You don’t do that for the other stuff you hoard.”
She rolls her eyes, but I mimic her. “So, when are you moving out, again?” she asks.
“Wow. Don’t worry, I’m aching to get out as much as you.” Then, just to dig the knife in deeper: “Careful, you’re sounding like Dad.”
Mom grimaces.
I exhale, looking around the room. I’ve said hello to almost everyone here, but, naturally, these are mostly Mrs. Perry’s acquaintances. There are few people near my age.
“He’s my soulmate.”
I glance back at Mom. She stares hard at the screen door leading to the back porch. “If he’s my soulmate, I have to believe that things would have been worse without him. The same goes for you, too.”
“Do you think he thinks the same about you? That he would be worse off without you?”
Mom’s eyes find mine, wide as if I’ve struck her. Immediately, I feel myself wither, cowed by shame. I didn’t mean for it to be hurtful. But she walks away after kicking back the rest of her wine, walking toward the table of beverages.
But it proves to me that I’m making the right choice. Being with a soulmate - being with anyone - isn’t worth what Mom goes through.
“Abby,” Mrs. Perry calls, startling me. “I need to get some fresh air. Would you mind going on a walk with me around the block?”
“Mom,” Ethan says, excusing himself from Mr. Walter. “I can take you.”
“You stay here. I’m not used to being the center of attention. Go and entertain these people. Let’s go, Abby.”
I exchange a look with Ethan. “Okay,” I drawl, following her to the door, where piles of shoes line the sides. “Are you really going to ditch your own party?”
She scoffs. “What’s there to celebrate? I’m getting another year of deeper wrinkles and more gray hairs. Yay, me. Open the door, would you?”
I hurry to do so, following her down the ramp after calling a little helplessly, “We’ll be back!” and closing the door behind us. Once we’re on the driveway, I take the handles of her wheelchair and start pushing her. It’s a good thing the rain is behind us. Beyond the leafy canopies above is a bright blue sky, empty of all clouds. The temperature is perfect, too; a pleasant 80 degrees. I don’t blame Mrs. Perry for wanting to get out a bit.
“I love them,” Mrs. Perry says. “I do. And it’s a wonderful party. I’m grateful. But I’ve always been more of an introvert than anything. It’s a little overwhelming, being around all those people.”
“I can imagine.”
“And they’ve been there for two hours now. They won’t leave.”
I burst out laughing. “You can use your MS as an excuse. Or that Southern belle charm. Just claim you need to rest and calm your poor nerves ‘cause us Yankees are doing you in.”
She snickers, then demands I get my hands off her wheelchair and walk beside her. I oblige.
“Why’d you want me to come along?” I ask, curious, as we pass a small row of ants and round the corner onto Chestnut Street. “If you wanted to recharge.”
“That son of mine is a little overprotective. I realize that must be a shock.”
I snort, but it’s not like I can blame Ethan.
“And you know what? I need some time away from him too,” she says, looking up at me. “Yeah, he works all the time, but as soon as he’s home he’s always fussing. He needs to move out.”
I bark a laugh. “Have you been talking to my parents?”
“Well, I think I know how to fix this. All we need is for you two to find a place and move in together.”
I trip over nothing. “Excuse me?”
“After marriage, of course,” Mrs. Perry says, looking offended. “I don’t approve of fornication.”
“Good Lord, Mrs. Perry!” Then it clicks. “You know?”
“About you two being soulmates and cute as a button? Yes.”
I roll my eyes skyward. God, please help me. How am I supposed to move on if Ethan’s such a mama’s boy and tells her everything?
“We’re not a thing,” I assure her. “Ethan’s told you that, too, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she sulks, looking like I’ve deprived her of her own birthday cake. “I know. I don’t understand why not, though.”
Oh. Apparently, Ethan didn’t tell her that part. “Ethan didn’t tell you why?”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Perry says, smiling innocently. “But tell me your perspective, dear.”
“Ha! He didn’t tell you a thing. I’m not blabbing.”
“You’re no fun, Abby Doyle.”
I grin cheekily at her. “So, is this why you really asked me to take a walk with you? To chat without half the town eavesdropping?”
“I knew you were smart.”
“Ethan and I aren’t going to get together,” I tell her firmly.
She sighs but lets it be. I’m sure she’ll start putting up a fight some other time.
Spoke too soon, apparently. She’s already opening her mouth again. “You know,” Mrs. Perry says slowly, “I’m not getting any younger.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“And my MS has been kicking up something fierce.”
I freeze. “Mrs. Perry! You can’t just try and guilt me into dating your son!”
“I wouldn’t
guilt you into dating him! I’ve got higher goals than that.”
Has she always been this stubborn? I need more of that cheapo wine. “Let’s get back to your place,” I grumble, rolling my eyes as I pick up the pace. She rolls right along with me, but she protests, saying we can just take our time. I just tell her that she shouldn’t have pulled that dirty trick if that’s how she feels.
By the time we get to the house, we’re both the slightest bit out of breath from the exercise, but it was good for both of us. Mrs. Perry won’t stop sulking at me, but she reconnects with the other guests with sarcasm and a smile. I don’t see my mom anywhere. Maybe she’s still talking to my dad.
I slip onto the back porch. To my surprise, I don’t see either parent. I do, however, see a bunch of other people, as well as Ethan and Beth. No sign of the Bennett boy…man. Whatever.
She’s sitting at the base of a large tree with him. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but Beth laughs, and Ethan smiles back. It’s a quiet smile; not his usual too-bright grins. They feel much further away than the feet separating us.
“Too bad those two aren’t soulmates,” someone mentions. “They’ve always been so close.”
But she wasn’t the one here when Ethan was upset. I was.
It’s an unfair thing to think. I know it. It just makes me more irritable, knowing that. I’m selfish, wanting someone who can’t - who doesn’t want to be - who I don’t want to be - mine. I’m greedy.
Suddenly, I want nothing more than to be out of here. Not out of this house. Out of this town. This state. I just want to be gone.
No one will be upset if I go.
I need to calm down. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way.
Beth kept her distance because she thought he had a soulmate. If she knew he wasn’t going to get together with me, would they end up together? They’d be happy, I bet. They understand each other. They’ve put up with each other this many years, after all.
I’m just in the way.
Someone says hello to me, but I just give a halfhearted smile back as I make my way through the house. Gently touching Mrs. Perry’s shoulder, I tell her I’m going to head out.
“Already?” she says.
“Weren’t you the one who wanted a little less people?” I whisper, trying to grin. “See you later.”
Homebound Page 10
