The thoughts I’m having are too pathetic to share. I can’t pledge her my life, my body, and my soul over a box of pizza. But they are hers.
And if I can’t tell her all of that without words, I can make her feel good.
Buttons surrender one by one, and when I’ve slipped the gauzy blouse off her shoulders, and she’s watching me with half-lidded eyes in her bra and blue jeans, I can’t speak at all.
So I stand, pluck her off the kitchen chair, and her legs wrap around me again. We travel the short distance to my bed where I lay her down. And because kissing her must happen now — right now — I lay on top of her fully clothed.
I know how strong she is, but, now, beneath me, she is all yielding softness. Her body cradles mine like I belong right here. There’s just enough room for the two of us. None for ghosts. Nor fear. Nor shame.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
EVIE
On Monday afternoon, Tori and I drop Mom and Dad off at the airport.
We spent almost all of Sunday together as a family, and it was the first time during their visit that no one gave me grief about my job, my abandoned degree, or my boyfriend.
Thank you, St. Monica, oh patron of disappointing daughters.
In fact, Drew told me my parents had gone by the hospital early Sunday morning. He ran into them on their way out, but his Aunt Shelly said they went by Mrs. Vivian’s hospice room and told stories about Drew’s grandma for about twenty minutes.
At first, I’d been peeved they hadn’t asked me to join them, but now I’m really glad they didn’t. The visit had been their idea. A gesture of neighborly respect for Mrs. Vivian and her family. And for Drew.
He’d said when he saw them they’d both greeted him politely, shaking his hand in the hospital lobby. I would rather them be warm instead of just polite, but it’s better than nothing. Right?
Time will help. Mom and Dad are still coming back for Christmas. I’ll make a point to talk about him in our Skype’s and texts, and they’ll see they have nothing to worry about. They might even start to realize how wonderful he his. How well he treats me. It may take a little while, but they’ll accept him.
I hope so, anyway. I hope they’ll accept me enough to accept him.
These are my thoughts as Tori and I leave the airport and make our way to University Avenue. She’s said nothing since we hugged Mom and Dad goodbye, and that’s fine with me. I know from Mom that she is putting together applications for pharmacy school in the hopes of starting next semester.
I’m happy for her.
It also means, no matter what, she’ll be moving away. And I can’t say I’m unhappy about that. Mom and Dad tried to talk me into moving back into the house, saying that when she goes, they’ll needs someone to live in it.
I have to admit, the offer is tempting. Without Tori there, it isn’t like anyone would be “keeping an eye” on me. I’d have the place to myself, and I would feel more comfortable than I do at Janine’s.
But I wasn’t ready to say yes. Instead, I put them off, telling them we could talk about it in a month or two. We’ll see how things go until then. How they treat me. If Tori gets accepted into a program.
No matter what, it’s still hard to tell them no, so when Mom asked me to keep driving the Volvo so it doesn’t die on her next time she’s in town, I gave in. And I’ll admit, this will be easier on me too.
Tori and I pass by Tribe, and a smile drifts over my face. I’m off tonight, and Drew stayed with Mrs. Vivian last night, so he’ll be home. We’ll be together.
When we turn onto St. Landry, Tori starts talking. “I applied to UT’s pharma program last night.”
I glance over at her, and she’s wearing a glib smile. Good for her.
“University of Texas? Wow. That’s great, Tori.”
She never shares much, but if she’s telling me this, it must be important to her.
She doesn’t look at me, but she nods a slow nod. Up and down. Up and down.
We ride in silence.
At the turn on St. Mary, she breaks it. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me why UT instead of UL-Monroe or Ole Miss?”
I can tell by her profile that her expression has soured. Obviously, I was supposed to ask. Silly me for not asking.
