Chapter Fourteen

 

<><> Miriam <><>

 

Introduced my fist to his face? My throat constricts as I gulp back disbelief. I have to admit, Chris’s comment is a little frightening, but I kind of figured he has this side to him. “I don’t know if that’s the kind of lesson he needed. You’re lucky he didn’t press charges. Then it would have been your life-lesson.”

“I did what was best,” says Chris.

“Would you do it again now?”

“Probably. It felt like the right thing to do. You can’t exactly reason with some jock who slept with your girlfriend.”

“What about her?” I ask.

“What about her?”

“You didn’t introduce your fist to her face, did you?”

Chris leans away like I’ve accused him of murder. “Are you kidding me right now? As if I’d ever hit a girl.”

“Then it’s a double-standard. She’s just as much at fault as he is. She could have said no, but she didn’t, right?” Okay, so maybe my line of questioning sounds a little self-righteous.

“So, you’re saying I should’ve beaten her up too?”

I’m not exempt to the trace of sarcasm. “You know that’s not what I mean, Chris.” I look him dead in the eyes. “Did you break up with her?”

“Yes, right away. She made me look like an idiot, so…” He scratches his cheek, like he’s thinking about something.

As if on cue, the waiter comes over to ask how our meal is.

“Great,” Chris says with what I interpret as his fake smile.

“Excellent,” I say, genuinely enjoying the meal and the mutual interrogation.

Chris’s smile fades as he leans in and gets serious. “Listen, I had to punch the guy, okay? I know it looks bad, but he made me look bad. I had to save face. There are times when it’s called for.”

“I don’t think so.” Okay, clearly I’ve either really shocked him or really upset him – or both.

“Well, I do. I’d fight for you.”

I stay quiet. Deep down, part of me views the comment as chivalrous and I’m flattered, but still, I can’t encourage that.

“I would. I’d fight for you without even thinking.”

“Thank you, Chris. But now that you’ve said that, I’ll worry about the future possibilities. I promise never to put you in a situation to fight for me, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

I debate what I’m about to say, not wanting him to think he’s weak, but I go for it. “Why did you take her back?”

“Hmm, that’s a tough one. Probably because I believe in second chances. I was given one a few years ago and I like to think it paid off. I could have gone to jail or...”

“Or?”

“Or I could be six feet under. So yeah, I guess I’m a second chance kind of guy.”

“Second chances can be therapeutic.”

“Something like that.” He takes a sip of water. “On the other hand, second chances can hit you back harder. My brother Kyle went down to Vegas to give our dad a second chance and that didn’t go so well. You could say the second chance I gave Donna failed too. I’m really happy it did.”

“Me too.” I smile at him with everything I’ve got and then turn serious. “Your dad’s a real sore spot with you, isn’t he.”

“You could say that. He’s an asshole, pardon my language.”

“How so?”

“Well, he left for good when I was thirteen. Lives in Vegas. He has a gambling problem...and a cheating on my mom problem.”

“Just like Donna.”

“Yep, just like Donna.”

“I would never do that to someone I care about. I’d never do that to you.” I can’t believe I’m saying this kind of stuff to a guy, but I don’t see how holding back will get me anywhere. I’m tired of bottling my feelings.

“I believe you.” Chris reaches over and traces a finger gently along the top of my hand. The action is small, but it has major repercussions, like turning my insides to jelly. “Do you get along with your dad then?”

I think about this for a second, still fighting down my giddy excitement over the fact that Chris Loman’s hand in now resting on top of mine. “My dad was abusive in other ways.”

He squeezes my hand and tingles shoot through me.

“In what ways?”

“He ignored me,” I say, swallowing with difficulty.

“I would have appreciated being ignored by my dad. Instead, he always tried to toughen me up, make me a man as early as I can remember. He was verbally abusive. I guess he kind of ignores me now. Well, not kind of, he does.”

“Too bad for him, and too bad for my dad. He’s missing out on my life, but he’s also missing out on caring for my mom. Marriage is about for better or worse, sickness and health. My dad really let her down when he left and I don’t think she ever got over it.”

“Wow, our dad’s won’t be winning any Dad Of The Year awards, huh?”

“Everyone has their family drama.”

“It must be difficult going through all this by yourself. If you had a brother or sister you could share the responsibility of looking after your mom.”

“I don’t mind doing it alone. It’s all I’ve ever known, so...”

“Still, I think it’s more difficult for you to deal with. I’m here for you, you know, if you ever need a friend to talk to.”

Chris squeezes my hand again and the act sends tiny firecrackers shooting up my arm – straight to my heart. I think I’m falling for this guy. Hard. “Is that all we are then? Friends?”

“I think it’s a start, don’t you?”

I have no idea what he means by that. A start? Does that mean there’s more to come? A girl can dream.

 

 

Leaving the restaurant, a wave of nervous anticipation ripples through my entire body. Is this the end of the date? Is Chris going to kiss me goodnight when he drops me off? I glance at my watch as discretely as possible. 9:05, still too early to call it a night. Maybe a movie? Or not since they’ve already started. What’s next?

“Want to walk down for an ice cream? We can leave the truck here,” Chris says as if reading my mind. Maybe he’s wondering what to do too.

“Sure.”

“I was disappointed that they didn’t have any chocolate desserts, weren’t you?”

“Very.”

As we walk, there’s this awkward silence for a few minutes before Chris dives into telling me about his last landscaping project and how obsessive the homeowner was about every little detail. I swing my hand close to Chris’s hand, wondering if he’ll decide to hold it. Should I venture out of my comfort zone and take his? Show him how interested I am? I’m debating it, but fear dictates and I keep my hand to myself.

“…and we finally got the tamper to work after all that stress. I thought we’d have to rent one.”

“Good thing,” I say. Hearing Chris discuss his passion, I find it strange the way he talks to his friends and the other landscapers. He hides this side of himself, as if dumbing-down. But I’ve seen the real Chris. I know his depth and I appreciate it. There is more to him than meets the eye. I just wish he’d let the entire world see that side of him. Why he’s holding back is a mystery to me.

As we stand staring at the endless ice cream selection, three girls come into the ice cream shop laughing and giggling. Both Chris and I turn to look at them and the girls stop dead in their tracks.

“Hi, Chris,” says the blond in pink.

“Hey,” Chris says and turns back to the ice cream showcase. “Which kind are you going to have?” he asks me quietly, leaning in nice and close.

I point, staying quiet and doing everything in my power not to turn around.

“We’ll each have a double scoop of the chocolate peanut butter on sugar cones, thanks,” Chris says.

The two of us are facing the showcase, watching as the guy scoops it out. I can feel the girls’ eyes burning into the back of me since they’ve gone quiet, aside from the odd whisper and stifled giggle.

“How’s your summer so far?” a female voice floats over our shoulders.

Chris turns, clearly feeling obligated. “Good. Yours?”

“Not bad. Heard you and Donna broke up. You should call me.”

At this, I turn and make eye contact with the blond. What am I, invisible? I find her blatant comment rude and catty. It’s pretty obvious Chris and I are on a date.

“I’m unavailable, sorry,” Chris says, trying to smooth over the spiking tension.

The girls giggle as Chris and I take our ice cream and he pays.

“Bye,” the girl says, making the word two syllables. We exit, hearing a chorus of laughs until the door closes behind us.

“Lets go over to those picnic tables,” Chris says, leading the way. I assume he wants to remove me from the madness.

I stay quiet and eat my ice cream. As we sit, he gives a little half-smile. I can tell he’s uneasy and a little embarrassed by their unwanted attention.

“Does that happen often?” I ask.

“What, them? No.” Chris eats his ice cream. Avoidance runs rampant.

“They seem to know you well.”

“Not really. The one girl was in my class. I’ve never seen the other two before.”

Apparently he got a good look. I take a bite and mull over his words. I think if I weren’t here, he would take her up on her offer. I think I’m in over my head with this guy. “You get around, don’t you.” It’s a statement more than a question. At this point, I have nothing to lose.

Chris shoots me a look of sheer shock. “What?”

“You get around. Is that all I am too? A conquest?”

The way his face drops, I know I’ve said too much. I’ve offended him.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Is that how you see me, Miriam, as some guy who only screws around?”

With the worst timing in the world, the girls come out of the ice cream shop at a distance. The blond waves and shouts 'Call me' to Chris as they leave, licking their cones and giggling without a care in the world — without a care of insulting me.

“There’s your proof, right? I must sleep with everyone,” Chris says.

“No, of course not, but I’m sure it’s a hobby. One you’ve perfected.” My fork-tongued jabs keep coming. I’m so mean. Is this self-preservation? Reject first before being rejected?

“I can’t fucking win.” Chris stands and throws his ice cream in the grass. The action frightens me a little, so I try to calm the situation.

“I like you, Chris, but I’m not like the girls in there. I’m not like Donna either. I’m different.”

“I know!” he shouts and throws his arms up, facing me. “And that’s why I like you!”

“I just don’t think I can give you what you want.”

“What does that mean? I thought we were getting to know each other?”

“We are, but I’m not sure where this can go. I’m starting school in the fall.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And I’m going to be busy with classes and work and my mom.”

“That’s it? You’ve written me off on our first date?”

“I don’t have time to waste on something that isn’t going to go anywhere. Sorry.” As I say it, I realize how dismissive and snobby I sound. Little does Chris know that I’m saying it strictly to save myself. I refuse to get hurt.

“Miriam, please don’t do this. Give me a chance.”

He reaches out and takes my free hand and it makes my breath catch. I’d love to feel his hands all over me, but I know that’s not going to happen since I’m instinctively pushing him away. “You’re such a nice person and you’re very talented, Chris. Look at my backyard. There’s your proof. I know you don’t just screw around."

“I don’t want to be the way I was. I want more.”

We lock eyes and I can tell he’s sincere. “Then you have to set some goals for yourself. Landscaping should be top priority.” I hesitate, feeling bad about his ice cream. “Want some?” I jut out my cone so he can have a lick. He takes a bite and we laugh as we look down at his cone in the grass.

“I guess I’m an impulsive kind of guy. My loss.”

“I’ll share.”

“Thanks.”

We take alternating licks. It’s intimate, special, and I begin to feel really bad about how I accused him. It wasn’t my place to be so confrontational or judgmental. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. I need to set some goals, but sometimes knowing how to landscape isn't always enough of a skill to get by on. Al, he's got it right. He started this business when he was my age and now look at it."

"And why can't you?"

"Why can't I what?"

"Start your own company. Or better yet, take over the company from Al like I mentioned before. Didn't you say he wanted out?”

"Yeah, he's mentioned it a couple of times."

"And didn't you say he has four daughters who are younger and could care less about his business?"

"Wow, you really do listen to me ramble on about stuff. I'm impressed."

"I listen. There is way more to life than screwing around, I know you realize that too.” Yes, I sound like an annoying know-it-all, but I can’t help myself. Sanctimonious much?

 

 

Parking the truck, I watch Chris get out and walk around the front to my door. He opens it, takes my hand, and I’m feeling my nerves skyrocket. This is it. Even after my reprimanding, will he kiss me? Will he try? I then realize that I want him to. I’m a walking contradiction. His expression says it all without saying a word; he’s yearning for this too, but it’s clear he’s waiting for me to make the first move – it’s unexpected, especially from someone with his reputation. I was under the impression he was a take-charge kind of guy, but then I realize he’s either hesitating because of my earlier accusations or because he’s not interested. I start to worry that it’s the latter. On my front porch, we face each other. Chris shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down shyly before locking eyes with me.

“I was wondering if you want to go to a movie with me tomorrow night?”

I bite my bottom lip, not wanting him to think I’m rejecting the idea since I’m amazed he wants to go out with me again. “Sunday? I can’t.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“It’s just that every Sunday night Bailey and I meet at Jacinta’s and the three of us walk for about an hour and talk. We always stop at this rock and tap it for luck.” The second I say the rock thing I feel like a fool.

“Every Sunday?”

“Every Sunday.”

“Why?”

This little ritual of ours has evolved into a constant, so no one complains or ever questions its relevance – until today. Defending the ritual feels a little silly, but I hold firm to my convictions. “Just because,” I say, unable to expand on the answer.

“Oh. Got it.”

The fact that Chris doesn’t push me for a more in depth explanation signifies something right away. He gets it. He gets me.

“I had a nice time.”

I smile nervously. “Me too. Again, I’m sorry about the things I said at the ice cream shop.”

“That’s okay.”

Chris takes his hands out of his pockets, I assume for a reason. Outwardly, I stay as calm as a yogi, but inwardly I’m a hyperventilating lunatic. Here it comes…Chris leans in, kissing my cheek and squeezing my hand simultaneously. His eyes twinkle in anticipation as he hovers close to my mouth, making me smile. This is it, here comes the kiss…but he doesn’t. Instead he leans back and says something unexpected.

“Goodnight.”

Wait, that’s it? No kiss on the mouth? “Goodnight. Thanks for dinner.”

“No problem.”

And just like that, Chris walks away, gets in his truck, and drives down the road. He leaves me feeling like I’ve failed yet again in the love department, all thanks to my stupid, sabotaging comments.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

The next morning, I call Bailey to give her the scoop. I tell her about our conversation at the restaurant and how it was okay but didn’t flow like I wanted it to. I mention the girls at the ice cream shop and how Chris threw his cone down when I accused him of screwing around all the time.

“You did not say that!”

I stay quiet, feeling ashamed.

“What did he say?”

“He said I should give him a chance.”

“You’ve got nerve saying that, Miriam. I’m surprised he didn’t ditch you right there. Not the best way to start a relationship.”

“I don’t think there’s going to be any relationship. I think he views me as a friend, especially after what I said. I ruined everything.”

“How did the date end?”

“With a kiss on the cheek.”

“Ouch.”

“I was…”

“Disappointed? Yeah, I would be too.”

“No big deal,” I lie. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Come on, Miri, you do this all the time.”

“Do what?”

“Adhere to the side of caution. This is a no-brainer, okay, just put that brain of yours to rest and go with your intuition. You’ve got nothing to lose!”

What have I ever done to deserve such amazing friends? “You know what? You’re totally right. I need to apologize to Chris.”

“Then go get him.”

“Go get him?”

“Yes. Go to his house. Do you know where he lives?”

I think back on our dinner conversation. “Yes, I do.”

“Then go. Now!”

“Okay,” I say, standing up. “I will.”

“Amazing. And by the way, I want details. This is so romantic!”

The sky is about to open up, all grey and churning as I drive over to Fosters Construction lot. I can’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve strived for success and made my own goals, only to have them foiled by other people’s life events: my parents’ divorce; our downsize to a smaller house; my dad remarrying a much younger woman who became pregnant; and now my mom’s cancer. It just seems as if my milestones are marred by everyone else’s drama. I’ve been so good for so long, I want to be bad for a while. If that means pairing up with a badass, it’s as good as I’m going to get since drugs and orgies are out of the question.

Coming to a stop in the driveway, I climb the stairs and knock, preparing myself for what’s to come. The unknown. The door opens and I’m staring at Chris through the screen door. He’s dressed in worn jeans, nothing else, his bare chest an unavoidable distraction. He opens the screen door and I come in without a word. I look around, taking in the place and coming to stand opposite him in the living room. He scratches his bare chest, probably unsure what to do. False bravado is written all over his face, but I know he’s feeling vulnerable and exposed and unprepared for my surprise visit. I can already read this boy like a book. My ability to do this makes me feel powerful and, surprisingly, quite relaxed despite my initial fear of all things Chris Loman. If I were that kind of girl, he already would have scared the pants right off me...literally.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I’m glad you’re here, though,” Chris says, crossing his arms as if to cover up. “Let me just run and get a shirt on.”

He leaves the room and a second later I follow. “So this is your room, huh?”

Chris turns, visibly surprised to see me down here. “Yep. It’s my cave.”

It smells like Chris down here, all fabric softener and boy smell. I thought it would be damp and musty, being a basement bedroom, but I’m pleasantly surprised. Then I remember that Jackie’s his mom and I know why everything is relatively clean and smelling so good...just like the rest of the house.

“Has your room always been down here?”

“No. When we first moved in, Kyle and I shared a room until my mom asked our landlord to build this room for me. She’s a great, clean tenant and since he has a crush on her, he said yes.”

“I don’t blame him. She’s a really pretty lady and super nice.”

“Thanks. You know how it is. My dad really screwed her over, so she’s cautious I guess.”

“Hmm.” I gawk around the room, taking in the posters on the walls, the double bed, and the stereo system. I sneak a peek at Chris as he yanks on a black tee shirt. “Do you game?”

“Not really. I used to, but now I don’t have much time. Besides, I have books, see?” Chris points.

Looking over, I notice a low shelving unit with a few books on it; one of them being the biography I gave him a while back. I wonder if he’s even opened it.

“Ready to go up?” Chris says from the door.

“Sure. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your space.”

“That’s okay,” he says, as we make our way upstairs. “I would’ve made my bed.”

“No big deal.”

Chris sits on the couch and I follow his lead. He flicks on the television and surfs until he finds the weather channel. “Looks like a storm’s coming.”

“I thought it would rain on my way here.”

Chris mutes it and we sit silently for a few seconds, just enough time to make me second-guess my intentions. Charging over here like this is totally uncharacteristic and I have no idea what to do next.

“So, what brings you over here? Just a visit?”

Yep, that proves it. Chris is feeling my apprehension too. “Just thought I’d drop by and thank you again for last night, and…”

Chris swivels to face me. “And?”

“And, say sorry again for accusing you of things that are none of my business. I was a little preachy.”

“You think?” He laughs. “Maybe a little.” He raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“I want you to forget what I said. Can you do that?” Okay, so maybe my intentions were to come over here and jump him. He’s right here in front of me and we’re alone, his eyes are amazing, and did I mention those abs? I can reach out and take him if I want him. I know he probably wouldn’t object, not with his track record. Still, I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m way more reserved than I realized.

“You mean, forget about the part when you said you don’t want to start something with me?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that.” Chris smiles and leans a little closer, causing an increase in my heart rate. This is it. He’s going to kiss me. I can sense it coming. The space between us is electric and our mouths are so close we’re breathing the same air. He leans in closer, grazing my lips with his. Just when I think he’s about to kiss me the front door opens and his mom comes in, whistling some tune. She hasn’t seen us yet. Chris snaps back to his place like a slingshot and I sit up poker-straight. I feel dizzy, overwhelmed, and robbed of my opportunity.

“Miriam? Oh, hi there!” She’s wearing a tracksuit and sweating.

“Hi, Mrs. Loman.” She gives me a look. “I mean Jackie.”

“What brings you over here?”

“She dropped by to say hello,” Chris gives me a wink and I feel heat rush to my face.

“Hey, how’s your mom doing?” Jackie takes a swig from her water bottle before giving me her full attention. She’s smiling from ear to ear, really giving me her all.

“She’s okay.”

“Any results back yet?”

I wonder how she knows about the tests. Maybe Chris? “Still waiting.”

“We’ve been chatting on the phone a bit. I’d like to make her some food if that’s okay. Maybe tomorrow I can drop some dinner over?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m jumping in the shower. I think I made it home just before the rain. I walked farther than I thought I would. Brian joined me for part of the walk.”

Chris gapes. “Brian Foster?”

“Yeah. I ran into him and asked him to come along.” Jackie looks over. “Oh, stop it. He’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miriam.”

“Okay, bye.”

A minute later, we hear the bathroom door close and the shower start. Chris grabs my hand, drawing my attention squarely on his face. “Can I take you somewhere?”

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab my keys in my room. Be right back.”

He’s up and gone before I can answer him. I like this boy, so much that I’m willing to follow him anywhere. Besides, I want that kiss.

 

 

“Where are you taking me?” I ask from the passenger seat.

Chris glances up at the sky through the windshield. “I want to bring you somewhere to show you a bit of landscaping.” He pulls the truck over on the shoulder and idles while we glance at the vast green space in the middle of our bustling city.

“The Park?”

Chris leans toward me and points, making me look out toward the sprawling gardens and lawn. “This park was one of the originals designed by Frederick Law Olmsted. It’s too bad a lot of people in Buffalo don’t know the significance of that. It’s such a massive part of our history.”

“Wait, this park was designed by him?”

“Yep.”

“Unbelievable. The same guy that designed Central Park in New York City designed this and people hardly give it a second look. Amazing.”

“And he designed Front Park and the Martin Luther King Jr. Park too.”

Impressed, I smirk playfully. “You’ve read the book.”

“Yep. Come on.”

Hopping out of the truck, we meet in the grass, taking each other’s hand effortlessly like it’s second nature. This is the handholding I was angling for last night. We pass tall maple, oak, and black walnut trees along with giant weeping willows, the long branches swaying back and forth in the coming storm. There is so much energy in the air it’s charged.

“It’s over here.”

Walking silently as little flashes of lightening illuminate the sky, we reach a covered stone bridge just as the sky opens up. The first drops that pelt the hot asphalt soon turn into a roaring downpour. As we stroll under the covered bridge, we leave the humidity behind, as if entering an invisible curtain separating the cooler confines of a cave from the heat wave outside. Chris hollers 'Echo!', his voice rippling down the space. I do the same and we laugh. I dismiss the smell of damp concrete and allow my skin to enjoy the cool refreshing air. Being under here is a relief.

“This bridge was built in 1887 and is the only structure left from Olmsted’s original plans,” says Chris, coming a little closer. I stop and let him approach, noticing his seductive expression. “It was built so that horses and carriages could travel both on top and underneath. That way, they could get to other parts of the park easily.”

The fact that Chris Loman is schooling me in the ways of history is such a turn-on. I can’t even breathe.

“Am I impressing you yet?”

I nod, all words eluding me as he takes another step closer. Thunder booms as flashes of lightening flare up each end of the tunnel, scaring me and making me reach out and grab his forearms. We laugh at my unease. The energy of the day only adds to the drama of our romantic encounter like some sort of Shakespearean stage set.

“Guess we’re stuck.”

“Guess so,” I say, unable to breathe from my nerves. I want to be as close to him as possible, to press my entire body against him, but I’m scared. Afraid he knows how to do things to me I can’t even imagine. If I go a little way with Chris, will I be pulled into something I’m not ready for yet? Chris steps in even closer, invading my personal space now — and I like it. Certain parts of my body get hot and tingly as if getting ready. My body knows what it wants before my mind can catch up. I lean back against the stone wall as he gently pushes my hair off my shoulder. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, unable to say much else. I want him so badly, but my self-awareness surfaces, inhibiting me for a second. Will he like the way I kiss? Will his kiss meet my expectations?

Chris carefully clasps my neck with a strong hand, guiding my face toward his. He’s so close, he must hear my heart practically beating out of my ribcage. And just like that, I get my answer. His kiss is soft, yet firm and delicious. Clearly Chris Loman is experienced in this area, and endless other areas I'm sure. But for now, this is all I need. This is the sweetest, most tender kiss I’ve ever had. Clearly, I haven’t been properly kissed before.

He quickly pulls away, wearing a drowsy expression and the action leaves me reeling. Would it be wrong to beg for more? My eyes search his, asking open questions.

"You're a great kisser," he says as if pleasantly surprised. Staring me down like a hungry hunter, he trails a finger down my cheek and I feel my entire body shudder. This has got to be the sexiest, craziest moment of my young life.

"Thanks. You too," I manage, though it's so faint maybe I only said it in my head.

He’s kissing my neck now as thoughts of slowing things down emerge through the intense pleasure. I can’t seem to shut off my internal reservations…and then I do. The minute his lips are back on mine, all reason and logic and hesitation disappear and I’m completely in the moment; our moment. His kiss is pure bliss and yet it’s totally innocent, as if Chris is taking his time with me. I fight back the overpowering urge to pull him to the ground, wanting nothing more than to have the weight of him on top of me like some primal animal. His hands slide around my back and pull me into him. Touching his chest, the tight muscles beneath my fingertips excite me. Chris is solid, manly, something I’ve never experienced before. My last boyfriend spent more time at the library than the gym. Clearly, all the time he spends landscaping is paying off...and then some. I am one lucky girl.

This is the kiss I’ve been waiting for.