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I grinned. “Yeah, it was incredible.”
He rolled over, touching my face and drawing me in for a kiss. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”
I kissed him again before answering. “I do want to do it again, but…”
“Go on.”
“I think I like you inside me best of all.”
Daniel grinned and kissed my jaw and the edge of my ear. “Anything that makes you happy, baby, I’m up for it. Anything at all.”
And I believed it was true. I had no doubt. I even thought that one day, far in the future, when it had been just the two of us for long enough that trust was second nature, that maybe…just maybe…we could make Daniel’s deepest wishes come true.
Because the thought of having him even that much closer, raw and real inside me? That was the most beautiful thing I could imagine, and I yearned for it in a way I never had before. I wanted to give Daniel that experience one day. I wanted us both to have it.
We deserved it.
***
The next daywe checked out and drove into the midmorning sun, our faces covered in beard burn and goofy smiles. Daniel held my hand as he urged Betty Blue forward onto the highway, pointing the car toward my house.
Daniel needed to pick up Milky Way from Kerri’s place before noon. I didn’t have to go into work, and could have gone along with him, but I was behind on several assignments for school, and I also felt woozy with exhaustion after our long night.
The silence between us was easy, and I relaxed into it. He turned on the car’s built-in CD player and the opening notes of “Only You” started up. I grinned.
“This is our song, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Only you.”
“Yeah, only you,” I agreed.
He squeezed my fingers before putting his hand back on the wheel to get a little more control as he maneuvered around a slower car. My mind wandered, and I came back to a question I’d been pondering for a while now ever since Daniel had brought it up.
“So, I think I might do it,” I said. “I think I’m going to contact Harold Seville.”
“Yeah?”
“I’d like to know more about my uncle, and Harold’s a great photographer, too. I’d like to hear his story if he’s willing to share it with me.”
“I think that could mean a lot to him, too.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? He ignores me or tells me he doesn’t want to meet.”
He glanced my way and then back at the road. “What about your mom? Before, you thought you’d have to tell her about it, do you still think that’s the way to go?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. I could meet him on my own—or with you there—and not involve her. Unless he’s great, and I think it will help her in some way to meet him, then maybe I’d push for that. Otherwise, this can just be for me—and maybe for him.”
“When do you think you’ll do it?”
“I think the best thing to do is to write a letter to him explaining who I am. So, I’ll start there. See what comes of it.”
Daniel nodded.
That night, my mom and dad didn’t resist heckling me about the beard burns on my face. After my mom’s third attempt to give me burn cream, I stomped upstairs to avoid their embarrassing commentary.
I retrievedRobinfrom where I’d put it on the top shelf in my closet. I knew my mom wasn’t snoopy, but I didn’t want her stumbling on these photos by accident, so I’d hidden the book just in case.
I started reading it again from the beginning. It was a typical photography book for the most part, but the small write-ups Harold had done about George had all been executed with such loving care. I touched the words on each page, trying to absorb them through my fingertips.
