Chapter Twenty-Two

 

<><> Miriam <><>

 

A breeze comes up and blows the moonlit pine trees back and forth, making the fire dance. The glow casts over the faces of those around the fire, illuminating us like a spotlight. Mia and Hannah sit staring at the fire taking sips of beer; Kyle and Bettina are smiling and having a private conversation; and Donna, Kimmy, and Marcy are talking in hushed tones on the fringes of the bonfire. I watch them discretely through the flickering flames and suspect they are talking about me.

Chris sits beside me, edging closer. I know the heat is not radiating from the bonfire alone. It’s coming from him, and his arm is hot as it drapes across my shoulders, keeping the night’s chill away. Even though I’ve confronted Donna and am secure with Chris admitting he won’t go back to her, I still can’t fight the strange sensation that I’m in the middle of something unfinished. Something toxic.

“Loman,” Travis hollers from the cooler.

“Yeah?” Kyle and Chris answer at the same time, making everyone laugh.

“Loman Senior, we’re almost out of beer.”

Chris takes his arm away and stands. “I’ll get more from the truck and check on Simon too. Back in a sec.”

“I’ll help,” Travis lumbers over and the two of them walk away through the woods.

With Chris gone, I feel an instant void, not to mention vulnerable, especially when Donna comes staggering over and plops down beside me to my shock and horror. I’ve never fought anyone and don’t plan on starting. I glance over at Kyle and Bettina who are both watching us like hawks, perched defensively on the edge of their log stumps as if ready to come to my rescue. There’s no need.

Donna sniffles and faces me. Even in the darkness, I can tell right away she’s been crying.

“Miranda, he really likes you, I can tell,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what the hell happened, how I let this happen.”

I don’t dare correct her on my name. Instead, I stay quiet and glued to my seat. If she’s going to punch me or attack me out of the blue, I won’t stand a chance anyway. Sure, I’m athletic, but compared to a girl like her I’m a novice in the art of antagonizing.

Donna sobs and covers her face with both hands, surprising me. She shakes her head and the sobs increase. What should I do? Comfort her? Tell her everything’s going to be okay? Is this some ploy to gain my sympathy so she can pummel me with a cheap shot? I realize how quiet everyone is around the fire, like they’re holding their breath in anticipation of Donna’s intentions while eavesdropping. Donna and I are at center stage. Finally, she lowers her hands and wipes a tear away with a finger. She’s a mess. Her mascara is smudged and her nose is red and running.

“It’s just that I love him so much, but he never gives me what I want, you know? It’s like he’s always holding something back. You’ll see, he’ll do the same to you. It’s like he’s saving his heart for someone else. Either that or he doesn’t even have a heart. The fucker.”

It’s hard to act sympathetic when all I truly feel is pity. This girl’s behavior is giving all other sane girls a bad name. Sure, it would be so easy to let annoyance and jealously rip away my confidence like a torn scab. But I realize that Donna feels threatened by me – that she’s the one with all the hang-ups and insecurities. She’s the underdog here through her own actions. If she had treated Chris better, maybe he would still be hers. But he’s not. She needs to learn this life lesson and it has nothing to do with me. Nothing.

“You seem like a nice girl and everything, but you should take my advice and break up with him. Seriously. He’s not worth your time. He’s nothing, just some player who’ll screw around on you and never call.”

“Weren’t you the one who cheated on him?” I ask, wanting her to take responsibility for her actions. Yes, it’s risky, but it has to be said. “Chris is smart and driven and he’s going places.”

Donna sneers, no doubt thinking I’m a bumbling lunatic who’s been duped by a Loman. “Smart? Chris? Yeah, right.”

“He is.”

Chris comes back and when I look up, he locks eyes with me at a distance. He looks really worried, like Donna may have poisoned my opinion of him somehow. I smile to put him at ease and get up from the log. I turn to Donna, whose face has gone stony cold since Chris’s arrival. “Sorry, Donna, but I really like him. I’m not going anywhere.”

She points at Chris with an accusatory finger. “You’ll do the same to her, you heartless asshole. I know you will. You’ll break it off and find someone else in record time. Don’t be a victim, Miranda, seriously, don’t be a victim!”

Okay, so she keeps getting my name wrong. Can’t fault her for that since she’s totally plastered. I suppose bonfire confessionals bring out the worst in people.

“She keeps forgetting that she’s the one who cheated on me, not the other way around. She’s delusional. Sorry about that,” Chris says as he guides me away.

“That’s okay. Maybe her fantasy is a mode of self-preservation.”

“I guess. I just asked Kimmy to take her back to their campsite.”

Sure enough, I see Kimmy escort a slurring, swearing Donna away. Their silhouettes fade into the darkness and I hope I’ve seen the last of them.

When they leave, the mood shifts around the fire and everyone instantly relaxes. Travis starts telling dirty jokes, making Hannah slap his arm a few times, but she laughs right along with us. I watch Kyle and Bettina flirt with each other when they think no one’s looking. It’s really sweet and gives me a pang of hope that Chris is as attentive as his younger brother. Kyle’s a little taller than Chris, lean, with dark shaggy hair that hangs down passed his shoulders. Jeans and black tee shirts seem to be his attire of choice, despite the summer’s suffocating humidity. He’s way better looking than I realized, especially once you get up close. Just ask Jacinta and she’ll gladly volunteer this information since she drools at the mere mention of Kyle Loman’s name. I’ve only ever seen him from a distance and most of the time his hair was covering part of his face. He has this presence about him, this energy that makes you want to be around him – just like Chris. Only Chris’s energy is edgier and not nearly as soft or shy as Kyle’s. I guess Kyle’s more like me that way. I can tell already we’re going to get along.

But Chris...no one compares to him in my eyes. Chris is gorgeous in a very rough, unexpected kind of way. When he looks at me, his eyes almost smolder with something I can only describe as seduction. Chris is hot in an off-limits kind of way. In a ‘The guy next door your parents warn you to stay away from’ kind of way. It’s magnetic.

“Bettina and I are turning in,” Kyle announces as the two of them stand and stretch. “Night.”

“Night,” we all say before they take off faster than lightening toward the tent.

I swallow hard, knowing it’s only a matter of time before Chris and I turn in. I glance down at my trembling hands, my nerves pumping through my veins with each beat of my heart. I’m caught between my good girl persona and my lust-driven curiosities. Chris gets up and puts another piece of wood on the fire before looking at me and smiling. I wonder if he’s thinking we should call it a night too. The glow illuminates his handsome face and the sight of him makes parts of my body ache with a need I can’t ignore. I will sleep in Chris Loman’s tent tonight. But will I have sex with him?

As if daring myself, I stand up and take the first step in his direction, and then another. As I walk around the bonfire, our eyes never stray from each other. Drawing closer, Chris reaches out a hand and leads me away from the bonfire. “Night,” he says to the remaining group over his shoulder.

“Night,” I say without looking back. We fall into step with each other, each knowing where we’re going and the reason why. Talk is unnecessary.

We stoop into the tent and he closes the zipper flap behind us. We kneel staring at each other for what feels like forever. He must be able to hear my heart beating at warp speed. He looks at me with his head tilted and eyes dark, like he wants to tell me something but he doesn’t know where to begin. A second later, he brings his hands up to caress my cheek, gently guiding my face toward his for a kiss. I bring my palms up to rest against his firm chest. His kiss is making me feel even more anxious and nervous and scared. I’ve never been with anyone as experienced as Chris before. The one and only boy I’ve ever been with was a virgin right along with me.

Will Chris expect me to know things I don’t know? Do things I’m not comfortable doing just yet? As his hands glide around my back and run up and down my skin, my mind swirls with endless questions of uncertainty and self-doubt. “Chris, I...”

“What’s wrong?” His words come out all raspy and sexy, making me second-guess what I’m about to say.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for, you know, that just yet.”

“Oh,” he says, looking suddenly cautious in the moonlight. He seems to physically retreat a bit, as if giving me my space, though it may be my imagination.

“No, don’t pull away,” I say quickly.

“I still want to be close and spend the night here with you. Is that okay?”

A smile finds his face and puts me at ease. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As he says this and reaches out for me again, I feel a warm wave of relief wash over me. The pressure’s off, yet he still wants to be close. I’m finally able to relax now that the line of expectation has been drawn. And he seems to respect my decision.

After venturing to the bathrooms near the reception cabin to freshen up and brush our teeth, Chris and I come back to the campsite holding hands. The fire pit area is empty and everyone is in the tents…everyone but Simon who is safely locked in the Bronco.

Zipped back in our private space, Chris places his forehead against mine comfortingly. I can’t take my eyes off him. “Miriam, I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re caring and generous and smart and…” He can stop right there. He’s said more than enough to make me feel great about myself, but he doesn’t stop. “And I don’t deserve you.” His eyes lock on mine.

“Why would you say that?” My mind’s reeling with the possibility that maybe he’s done something and he’s about to confess. “Why don’t you deserve me?” I hold my breath, waiting for disappointment. I know it will come eventually. No one can be this happy without it being an illusion. Life’s not that fair.

“I sometimes wonder why you’d want to be with someone like me; someone who isn’t going to college like you, who doesn’t even drive a reliable truck. You deserve a guy who will treat you the way you should be treated.”

“That doesn’t matter to me, Chris. Image and superficiality is irrelevant. You should know that about me by now. I’ve got too much going on in my life to worry about insignificant stuff like that. I’m not a typical eighteen-year-old.”

“No, you’re not. You’re special. You’ve had to grow up faster than anyone I’ve ever met.”

I’m about to say something, but can’t seem to find the words. He’s right. I have had to grow up faster than most kids my age, so what’s holding me back from being with Chris tonight? It would be so easy. But I won’t. It’s the principle of it, the laying down of boundaries. I want him to know that I’m not like all the other girls. Still, it doesn’t mean I have to be saint.

I discretely remove my bra, keeping my tee shirt on for sleeping. I pull on a navy hoodie and attempt to remove my skirt without Chris looking. It’s impossible, so he turns around to give me some privacy before I even have to ask. The entire act seems ridiculous considering we’re about to sleep side by side. Still, modest habits die hard. I quickly yank off my skirt, leaving my underwear on and shimmy on my black slouchy stretch pants. Not sexy by a long shot. Comfortable sleeping attire for camping, that’s it. I turn away to give Chris the same privacy he politely gave me.

When I turn around, it’s too soon because Chris is wearing nothing but boxers. I have to force myself to close my mouth at his magnificence. “Oh, sorry,” I say as he pulls on a white tee shirt, but I’m so not sorry.

“No fair, you peeked.”

“Couldn’t help myself.” I glance down, “Am I overdressed?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Chris asks playfully. “Here,” he slips on his sweatshirt, “make you feel better? We’re even.”

We laugh and join our sleeping bags together, turning two singles into one double by zipping the zippers. Now there’s no choice but to get close. We kneel and spread the giant sleeping bag down over the comfortable foam camping mattress we’d unrolled a minute ago. Hesitating, I stare at what is now officially a bed. A nervous ripple traces up my entire body…nervous excitement that is. Chris hops in and pats the space beside him. I follow, getting in nice and cozy.

Gazing through the top of the tent, we’re on our backs with our heads close, hands held tight and fingers entwined. I’ve dreamed about romantic moments like this since I was little, never dreaming someone as manly and sexy as Chris would ever look at me twice let alone enter my life and shake things up beyond recognition. Sure, it’s sappy, and sure, Chris is no doubt wondering how quickly he can have sex with me. All the more reason to slow things down and savor getting to know each other. If I’m too slow for him, he’s welcome to end this and find someone else because I’m not about to hit fast forward for any guy. I’m the girl; I control how far we go and how fast. That’s how it works in my world.

The tent walls are paper-thin, so we whisper our deepest fears and desires into each other’s ears. His breath tickles my earlobe, feels hot against my neck. It turns me on and makes me laugh all at once. Laughing with Chris is so easy and I appreciate being transported to somewhere else in my mind — somewhere I don’t have to think about death.

As Chris reaches out for me, I feel my entire body shudder and I know he feels it too.

“Are you still cold, even with all those clothes on?”

Segue to clothing removal perhaps? “No, it’s not that. I’m nervous.”

“You never have to be nervous with me, Miriam. I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. This is really special to me.”

“What, camping?” I ask and giggle.

Chris laughs, and then turns serious. “No, being here with you…alone. I could get used to this.”

“Me too.”

His body keeps me warm as we meld together, his long body curving around mine like a second skin, his knees hugging in behind mine, his chest pressed against my back protectively. His arms wrap around me and hold me tight. I feel enveloped, surrounded by him. It’s lovely and oh so right. The wind rustles through the trees romantically and the rays of the moon filter in through the top of the tent, casting an odd glow all around us.

I turn over to face him as he pulls me against him. Our hips align and so do our mouths. Kissing Chris is becoming second nature as we explore each other. Sliding his hands under my shirt, his fingers are warm against my bare back and I long to feel them discover other parts of my body. He slides his hand down and runs it along my belly, making me flinch.

“Is this okay?”

I nod and press my lips to his again. I have to slow things down or things will race away from me. I don’t want to feel anything too deeply because I know it won’t be long before I’m forced to do just that; forced to feel grief and sorrow and sadness. I’ve never known anyone who has died before. I don’t want to know what that feels like.

We stay this way for a while, staring at each other, smiling and giggling like we’re little kids getting away with something. The bad-boy persona I’d expected is nowhere to be found. Chris has nothing to prove to me, and I’m under the impression he knows this.

“Can you be yourself with me?”

“Yes,” he says, smiling.

“Are you happy?”

“So happy. I can’t believe I met you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

I smell the pine trees, hear them swishing in the breeze, and I feel myself falling in love. I said I didn’t want to feel anything too deeply, but I lied. I need to feel love.

“I want to be closer to you,” I say, reaching out and grabbing his sweatshirt. I pull it up and Chris helps with the rest. First the sweatshirt, then his tee shirt. I run my fingers over his chest and marvel at his physique, feeling extremely lucky.

He unzips my hoodie, peels it off, and lies back down, leaving my tee shirt on.

“Why did you stop?” I ask.

“I don’t want to assume anything.”

I sit up and pull my shirt off, exposing myself to him and not caring anymore. Why should I? It won’t prevent anything. It won’t save anyone.

As I lay back down, Chris reaches over and pulls me onto him creating a skin on skin connection. He runs his hands along my back and then down to my waist, holding me in place as we kiss. “Your skin is so soft.” He runs his hands down my sides and into my stretchy pants, resting his hands on the outside of my thighs. I nuzzle into his neck, enjoying our proximity as he inhales the scent of my shampoo. “You smell like peaches.”

He’s cautious, I can tell, probably not sure how far he should go since I put the breaks on sex.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I don’t want to rush things either. It’s difficult.” His voice comes out all husky and low. He coughs to clear his throat, sounding nervous.

“Chris, I want you to do what comes naturally,” I whisper. “There’s no game plan. Just be you.”

“Uh, I don’t think you understand. If I had my way, I’d be all over you right about now. You’re forcing me to really be present, you know, in the moment. It’s new for me and it’s difficult to hold back like this.”

“It’s okay to go slow and get to know each other. We’ll be together when the time is right. I know you think this is the right time, but we’re still getting familiar. Some things are worth waiting for, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. It’s tough, but yeah, absolutely. You’re worth waiting for.”

“Thanks.” I lean up and kiss his mouth like I can’t get enough of him, pressing myself into him and feeling parts of him respond. “Besides, we can still do stuff without going all the way.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

My hand travels down between our bodies to touch him. Chris flinches and closes his eyes as my eyes widen at the unexpected surprise. Again, I’m so lucky!

 

 

The birds are my wake-up call as the hazy, purple mist of morning filters in through the tent’s skylight. I smell burning wood. Someone has a fire started already. Looking over, I watch Chris as he sleeps, his bare chest rising and falling, new stubble along his jaw line. I hear the sizzle of bacon as it hits a hot hibachi grill, the smell wafting in soon afterwards. This is Chris’s official wake-up call. He groans and opens his eyes. “Mmm, smells good. Morning,” he says, catching me staring. He grins a boyish, lazy grin and rolls into my armpit, burying his face in it to hide from the light.

“Hungry?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“Late night.”

Chris leans away, squinting at me while maintaining a wide smile. “It was worth it.”

“What are the chances of that bacon being ours? It’s probably coming from the next campsite.”

“Don’t be so sure. Simon’s up with the sun no matter how late he goes to bed.”

Lying still, I stare up at the screened skylight with arms above my head. I play with my hair, a force of habit, and spy the clear blue sky through the spiky pine tree branches overhead. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I survived a night with Chris Loman. Will I get another one?

Chris hoists an arm lazily over his eyes to block the sunlight. I take advantage of this by sitting up and slipping on my tee shirt before he can see me naked. My self-consciousness has crept in with the daylight. Maybe Chris is making it look like he’s blocking the sunlight when in reality he’s planning his escape. Did putting sex on hold turn him off of me for good? I reach for my hoodie just as Chris moves his arm and looks at me.

“Hey, wait a second.” He pulls me down gently for a kiss. “I have to give you a proper good morning.”

Apparently things are still okay. “Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll help with breakfast and call you when it’s ready.”

Chris looks at me puzzled. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So that you can sleep longer,” I say as I crouch/stand and slide on my sandals and hoodie simultaneously. I zip it up and turn to face him.

Chris looks at me with this weird wonderment in his eyes, like I’m the first person to ever do something nice for him. “Thank you. That would be amazing.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it, smiling up at me like I’m the only girl for miles. He has a knack for making me feel special with one quick glance. I leave the tent and find Simon at the grill looking chipper, as if last night’s overindulgence never happened. He’s wearing jeans, bare feet, and a hideous Buffalo Sabres jersey with stains and holes all over it.

“Morning! Ready to eat?”

Two hours later, with glazed expressions and minimal talk, we pack up the campsite and load up the Bronco. It isn’t until we stop for coffee at a Tim Horton’s that the conversation flows. We recap the concert, Simon’s 'almost' fight, and everything that was talked about around the fire. All in, it was a good night.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Chris drops everyone else off first before swinging around to my street. We hold hands the entire drive and it’s really sweet. But as we approach my driveway, dread fills my stomach.

“Why is Jacinta’s car parked behind my Mom’s?” I glance at the clock on the dash. It’s ten thirty in the morning. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

As soon as Chris brings the Bronco to a stop, I lean over, give him a quick kiss, and I’m out the door.

“Miriam, wait, your backpack.”

Turning back, I run toward the driver’s side and Chris lifts my pack out the window.

“Thanks.”

“Want me to stay with you? Make sure everything’s okay?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” I holler over my shoulder, already running up the front steps. “Thanks for last night. I’ll call you later.”

I fumble with the front door key, finally making contact and entering the house. I wave to Chris, feeling bad that I’d brushed him off like that, but I have to get to my mom. Maybe it’s intuition, but something is definitely wrong. The house is too quiet.

“Mom?”

Nothing. No Mom, no Jacinta. I run to Mom’s room and find it empty. Her bed is made, but her slippers and robe are missing. Racing to her ensuite, I notice her toiletry bag is missing too. Where the hell is she? Frantically searching every room, I catch movement through the kitchen window. Jacinta is outside wandering around the still in progress landscaping while talking on her phone. As I pull back the patio door, she looks over.

“She’s here. I’ll call you back later.”

“What’s wrong?” I can’t hide the panic in my voice.

Jacinta strides over with purpose. “Your Mom collapsed last night. She’s in the hospital. I’ve been calling you every half hour since two in the morning.”

“My phone’s dead.” I swallow, though it’s difficult. “I’m sorry.” Guilt and dread consume me. I wasn’t here when Mom needed me. I can’t hold back the hot guilty tears from flowing. “Is she in pain?”

Jacinta pulls me into a hug. “I can’t answer that, Miri. I’ll take you there. Lets go.”

 

 

Lying on her side with the blankets pulled up, her form is outlined by the sunlight streaming in through the open blind. She looks so frail in the hospital bed. I rush over and grab her hand.

“Mom,” I whisper, unable to stop a sniffle from escaping.

She groggily moans. “What? Oh, hi, sweetie.” She slowly turns to face me, smiling, but I know it’s for show; putting on a brave front has always been her trademark. “How was the concert?”

I take a deep breath, unable to help the sobbing. I’m trying to hold myself together, to mimic her bravery, but it’s impossible. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you last night.”

“Miriam, don’t you worry about that. This could have happened at any time. I want to know if you had fun.”

I laugh through my tears. “Yes, it was fun.”

“And Chris? Was he the perfect gentleman?”

“Absolutely,” I say, sitting on the edge of her bed. “It was nice to get to know him and his friends.”

Mom rubs my arm up and down, the way she always has to comfort me. “I’m happy you went. I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“Jacinta said you collapsed, Mom, how are you?”

“Oh, you know. Hanging in there.”

“No, I’m serious. How are you? What did the doctor say?”

“Stop worrying about me. I’m a big girl. You’re the kid, remember? You should be having kid fun.”

It’s lip service because we both know I’m far from being a kid now. When I turned eighteen, it was as if something inside opened up. A new awareness that things are going to change beyond anything I can even imagine. According to the United States government, I can now vote in an election, be on a jury, and serve my country in battle. Yet, even with all these permissible responsibilities now at my fingertips, a huge part of me still feels like a helpless child.