“Come on, just tell me where we’re going,” Reed begs as his fingers tug at the blindfold.
“Not a chance, baby,” I say, grinning as I step on the gas and make a left turn.
We’ve been driving for twenty minutes, Reed begging me the entire time to tell him what his surprise is. I haven’t budged, though. I grin to myself, knowing this is going to be epic.
“Are we going to Gino’s?”
“Why would I blindfold you for that? We’ve been there dozens of times,” I say.
“How about the snazzy hotel I showed you on Groupon?” he asks.
I tingle a little bit thinking about the fun times we could have in that gorgeous hotel room.
“No, but that would have been magical,” I admit. “No, this is something totally new. Now will you just trust me?”
My heart beats rapidly. In truth, I’m probably more anxious than Reed. I pull into the parking lot, double-checking the GPS to make sure we’re at the right spot. I’ll admit, the place looks a bit seedy. Not quite what I’d envisioned, the peeling yellow paint on what looks like a one-room building making it feel a bit drab. The sign is partially burned out, and there is only one streetlight. We’re in what looks like a shady alleyway. Part of me thinks I should just throw in the towel and turn this car around, take him drinking or out for coffee even.
But then I think about how much this will mean to him.
I think about the sadness I could see in his eyes when he told me the story, the sadness reminiscent of his teenage self. I saw the teenage boy who wanted nothing more than to stretch his legs and to pursue his dream but wasn’t allowed because his foster father was so paranoid about anything less than masculine. I think about Reed, once again, having to shove down his true desires and feelings to appease the family that wasn’t really family-like at all to him.
So I suck it up, pray I’m not making a mistake, and open my car door. “Don’t you dare take the blindfold off,” I demand.
“You got it, boss.”
I walk around the car and open his car door. “Looks like you obeyed,” I say. “I’m surprised.”
“Oh, come on. I can follow directions sometimes,” he replies as he unbuckles his belt and I reach for his hand, helping him out of the car.
I carefully lead him through the parking lot, taking a deep breath.
We step into the entranceway, where she stands, just as she promised she would. She grins and winks at me, and I wink back, taking note of her long, graceful legs. She’s got the body for the job, that’s for sure.
“Okay, so remember when we were talking about dreams, and you were talking about your bucket list?”
There’s a moment’s pause and, in an uncharacteristically soft voice, he says, “Dance. I wanted to be a ballet dancer.”
“Exactly.” I step behind him, untying the blindfold. Reed takes a deep breath when his eyes absorb what’s before him.
A dance studio, completely empty except for Miss Amanda, who is Reed’s personal instructor for the night.
“Are you joking? You did this? For me?” he asks, tears forming as he leaps into my arms. “Am I going to get to dance?”
“Absolutely. Miss Amanda is yours for the evening. She’s going to walk you through the basics, one on one.”
“This is amazing. But I’m not really dressed for ballet.”
“I’ve got it covered. There’s a changing room in the back. You’ll find a more appropriate outfit for this venture there,” I say. He looks up at me.
“Thank you,” he says. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. To get to live out my dream, even if for one night. To get to be what I really want to be with no one telling me I shouldn’t. It’s beautiful. I’ll never forget this,” he says, as he carefully trudges across the floor to the changing room.
“It’s beautiful. He looks so happy. And who knows, maybe this won’t be a one-time thing. Maybe you’ll spark the passion in him again,” Amanda says.
I stand, hands in my pockets, studying the empty studio, taking in the barre and the mirrors. And it is beautiful. The excitement in Reed’s eyes stirs something deep within.
Even if this doesn’t go any further than one night for Reed to dance like he’s always wanted, it’s okay. Because just in giving him the freedom to explore I think I’ve given him the best gift I could have.
When Reed’s foster father told him he’d kick him out of the house if he pursued ballet, I think something crushed in him, from the way he tells the story. I can see in his eyes even now a lost boy, looking for passion and for truth but finding nothing but scorn.
His foster father refused to listen, as did his foster mom. Afraid of what ballet might stir in him, afraid perhaps that with a medium of expression he would express those feelings they’d hidden away in the dark recesses of the past and of a one-time thing, they forbade him from pursuing it, forcing him into the “manly” world of contact sports, where Reed never excelled.
And so, little by little, I guess they stripped away the real Reed Wilder, replacing him with a version of himself who was stoic and masculine, who never revealed what he really wanted. So careful in hiding his own heart was he that he became a cold shell of himself, the passionate boy who loved openly, who chased his dreams openly, dead.
But, an hour later, as Amanda leads Reed through the basics, I see the glimmer of the boy who never got to be. Lean and graceful in his movements, confident in his posture, I see the Reed Wilder I know—free, true to himself, and honest. For hours, Reed doesn’t think about the past or the present or even the future. He just dances, his body showing the way, his body expressing exactly what he’s feeling at exactly each moment.
When we crawl into bed that night and make love, his kisses are filled with a palpable gratitude and a hunger for more of what he experienced this evening.
“Thank you,” he says, when we’re on our backs later, looking at the ceiling and thinking about the day.
“You’re welcome. Are you going to take Amanda up on her offer to come back?” I ask.
He rolls onto his side, facing me. “I don’t think so. I know I could be some thirtysomething prodigy, could reawaken that dream and chase it if I wanted. But I don’t think that was what dance was about. Back then, when I wanted to dance ballet, I think it was just about feeling, about showing those feelings in movement. It was a way for me to show the world who I was. When my foster dad masked that, made me shove that down, it was just one other way he crushed my spirit, my dreams, and me at the core. Tonight, I think I let that Reed Wilder back out. I mean, over the past months you’ve helped me break out of my shell, hammer away at the mask I was wearing. But tonight, it was different. Tonight was me breaking away from all of their requirements and their fears of expression. Tonight was about me finding a way to show myself that I am who I am, and that I can trust my heart. I can trust what I feel. It isn’t about the ballet. It’s about expression. It’s about emotion. It’s about heart. You gave that back to me. Thank you,” he says.
“You’ve got it,” I say, leaning in to kiss him some more.
We spend the night in each other’s arms, and I realize how far we’ve come.
Things aren’t perfect, and I’m still afraid of how this thing will end. I’m terrified that in a few months I’ll have my heart broken again, that I won’t be any closer to the forever I so desperately want.
I know Reed needs time, maybe more time than I can even imagine. I know his past will always haunt him, will potentially haunt us. I know a formal version of forever may not be in his vocabulary or his heart. Still, lying here with the man who has opened up my world this summer, who has helped me see what genuine love actually looks like, complications and all, I’ve realized this.
Maybe a formal forever isn’t what it’s about, at least not now. Reed Wilder came into my life on a sleepy Tuesday and woke me up. He helped me see what mattered most. He helped me put down my workaholic ways and do something I hadn’t done in a long time—live. Pure and simple.
I don’t know where this future is headed for us. I don’t know where this will all end up. I don’t know if we’re heading down the same path.
But I do know this. In just a couple of months, we’ve changed each other. We’ve helped each other see what life and love are really about. We’ve helped each other grow into the couple we never thought possible that first night.
In truth, we still have a long way to go. The journey ahead of us won’t be easy. There will be lots of pushes and pulls, a lot of compromise, and a lot of questions. Still, lying here with Reed, looking into the deep eyes I’ve learned to trust, I know that my heart is finding its way.
And I know I can’t imagine not trying, not taking the risk to be with him.
His hidden heart has uncovered itself and revealed its truth—and I couldn’t be more glad for that.