Three weeks later….
We stood in a big group around Tom, preparing to send him off in style. My dad had borrowed one of the church’s 12-passenger vans to take us all to the airport together, and between the band, my parents, Jordan, and Tom’s mom, we’d filled almost every seat, thanks to Gina, who insisted on being there, and Allistair, who was amusingly starstruck over Gina. The little girl ate it up, taking him in hand and “sowing him the wopes.” Sly made her repeat the sentence three times before I stepped in and clarified.
“Not ‘sowing oats,’ Big Daddy.” I said. “‘Showing him the ropes.’”
“Ah. Yes. Pirate jargon. Shoulda known.” He still maintained a close eye on his boy, which wasn’t a bad thing, considering we were hanging out in one of the busiest airports this side of the Great Divide.
“It’s time,” Tom finally declared, standing and hitching the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. “I need to head to my gate so they don’t lock me out.”
He began to make his rounds, hugging each of us in turn, even the band members. Tom was just an affectionate guy. When he got to me, he wrapped his big arms around me, lifting me clean off the ground, and when he set me down, instead of stepping back, he grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me softly. He stepped back and turned to Sebastian, while I stood there completely bemused.
“That, my friend, is to remind you what she’s giving up to take a chance on you. Don’t blow it.” The group broke into a round of applause and laughter and Sebastian joined in, stepping into the careful hug Tom gave him as well. But over Sebastian’s shoulder, he said to me, “Something for you to remember me by, too.”
I didn’t punch him or poke him. I didn’t really even have the urge to. I just brought my fingers to my lips and smiled to let him know I understood how precious his gift was to me; not the kiss, but his friendship, his love. I would treasure that gift no matter where life took us from here.
Sebastian chuckled as he stepped away from Tom, and even though his tone was light, I knew he was serious. “I think that needs to be the last time you kiss my girlfriend on the lips, my friend. That’s my job now.”
Tom froze for a moment, and then nodded respectfully. “I humbly defer to you, The Great Sebastian.”
Our little group stood close together and watched as he made his way through the security gate and waved until he was out of sight before we finally headed back to the van for the hour-plus drive home. Sebastian and I had already called dibs on the very back seat, but I had a feeling we’d be sharing it with Gina, too.
I took Sebastian’s outstretched hand as we walked, smiling up at him. His poor face was still terribly discolored, but the swelling had gone down around his broken nose and under his eyes so I could see the beautiful shape of who he was beneath the yellow and purple marks.
We were moving slowly, focusing more on gathering up the important pieces of his broken life. Little by little, he was finding his way out of the shadows, with the help of Dad and his recovery group—men who took Sebastian under their wings and walked with him through painful memories that sent my father home in tears some nights, the unconditional love of Mr. and Mrs. Clark who welcomed Sebastian into their home, and the brotherhood of Marauders who had embraced him without reservations from the very beginning.
Ani had arrived in Italy a week ago and it sounded like she was having the time of her life hanging out in the old country with all of Paulo’s relatives and friends. I was so happy for her, but I was looking forward to her return in a couple of weeks. I missed her walking through this with me.
Pete had settled in nicely at the Tomlin home, having commandeered Ani’s bed as his own in her absence. Juno, who before had been content with a doggy pillow in the kitchen, had joined him, unwilling to be parted from her doggy boyfriend.
A few days ago, we’d had a little memorial picnic for Foster out at the park, an impromptu gathering of people who had come together in a time of need. To mine and Ani and Sebastian’s surprise, our parents—including the Clarks who proudly stood in as Sebastian’s—surprised us with a commissioned concrete picnic table under the California oak tree on the hill, dedicated to Foster and Pete. It was the first time we’d brought Pete to the park since Foster’s death, and we weren’t sure how the dog would do, now that he was finally getting back a little of his spark. He approached the tree and the new table slowly, circled it with his nose to the ground, and then flopped down right where Foster had lain the day I found him. The ground had been torn up quite a bit in order to lay the foundation for the heavy table and benches, but Pete knew the exact spot anyway. He stayed there throughout our little picnic, not budging even for a bite of fried chicken. As soon as Pastor Clark cleared his throat and opened his Bible to begin the short service, however, Pete leapt up and ambled down the hill to play with the other dogs, Juno right beside him.
“Well,” the gray-haired man laughed. “That might just be a first for me. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone walk out before I even started speaking!” We all joined in, appreciating the opportunity to let loose a little over what could easily have become a morose situation.
Sebastian and I had lingered after everyone else had gone, keeping Juno and Pete with us. We spoke quietly about Foster—sadly, Sebastian didn’t know any more about his past than I did—and about Ani and how much I missed her. And to my surprise, Sebastian brought up his father.
“I’d like to think that in spite of all he’s done, all the lives he’s messed up, interfered with, and even destroyed, that there’s something in him worth saving.” He lay on his back, his head on my lap, and I toyed with his thick hair, careful not to bump any tender spots. “I look at your stars hanging from my ceiling at night, Tish, glowing in the dark over my head, and I wonder what would have happened to me if you hadn’t believed in me. If you hadn’t come looking for me.” He reached up and brushed the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, sending a tingle up my spine. “If you hadn’t thought I was worth saving. He could have killed me, but he didn’t. That’s a start, right?”
I nodded, fairly certain he didn’t need me to answer, just to listen. He sat up slowly. He still suffered from some awful headaches, and if he moved too quickly or tipped his head too far back, severe dizziness, but the doctors had assured him those symptoms would fade over time, that the dizziness was due to vertigo caused by the hard knocks to the head messing with the inner ear. He stood and reached a hand down to help me up.
“Are we going home already?” I asked, a little disappointed. The sky shimmered with the beginnings of a summer sunset and I wanted to watch it with him from the hillside. I wondered if Foster could see the same sunset from Heaven and the thought made me smile.
“Not yet,” he said, leading me by the hand to the concrete table. He turned me around to face him, brought his hands to my waist, and gently lifted me up onto the edge of it. “I’ve been wanting to try out the height of this table all afternoon.”
“It’s just about perfect, isn’t it?” I said, shifting slightly as I slid my arms around his waist and drew him closer.
His hands glided slowly up my arms to my cheeks, his fingers threading through the hair at the back of my head, tipping my face up toward his. He seemed to glow a little, haloed by the apricot light of the end of the day. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his kiss. His lips touched mine lightly and then he pulled away.
“Open your eyes, Tish.”
My eyelids drifted open. “Hm?”
“Thank you.” He brushed his thumb over the place on my cheekbone where the bruise had faded away completely. “For believing in me. For standing by me, even when I tried to push you away.”
“Repeatedly,” I quipped quietly. He let out a humorous huff.
“Repeatedly. For forgiving me.” He paused just a moment, his gaze flickering to my lips, then back to my eyes again. “For loving me.”
I closed my eyes again, a little embarrassed now. I’d boldly declared my love for him in the hospital, but he’d never responded in kind. Obviously, I hadn’t scared him away with my forwardness, but I certainly didn’t want him to feel obligated toward me because of it. I thought about Tom’s declarations of his unrequited love for me and the internal battles I’d fought, wanting to give him the same love in return, but knowing I couldn’t. God forbid Sebastian was struggling over me in the same way.
“Look at me, Tish.”
“What?” I opened my eyes again but kept them glued on his chin.
“I want to see your eyes when I tell you.”
I swallowed my pride and met his gaze. What I saw there, even in the left eye with its mottled sclera, was anything but obligation. Sebastian looked… he looked, well, hungry. I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips.
“Titia Danielle Ransome, I love you.”
The smile grew until it must have covered my whole face.
“I love you,” he said again. And more softly, “I’m free to love you.”
“And I love you,” I whispered back, my cheeks beginning to ache with happiness. “But you already knew that. You’re probably tired of hearing me say it already.”
“You want to know a secret?”
I nodded. “Yes. I want to know all your secrets.”
“That’s another first,” he murmured.
I pulled back a little so I could look in his eyes without going cross-eyed. “What’s a first?”
“You’re the first person since my mother who has told me they loved me.” He grinned like a little boy. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say it, Tish Ransome.”
I didn’t know whether to sigh at his sweetness, or cry over all he’d lived without. So I just said, “I love you, Sebastian.”
His hands still cupped my face, his fingers softly massaging the back of my neck, his hypnotic touch turning my bones to butter. “I really want to kiss you on Foster and Pete’s table now. Properly.”
“Okay.” I was game for that. “But what about your nose?” We’d been so careful not to bump it lest he damage it again. It hadn’t required setting, but the doctor still warned him it would take a good five or six weeks to heal.
“You’ll just have to be gentle with me.”
“Okay.” I was game for that, too.
“But you’re going to have to stop smiling like that. Too much teeth.” He was grinning too, though, showing a lot of his own teeth.
I laughed and pulled him even closer, my hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. “Why don’t you make me,” I demanded, closing my eyes and relaxing my head back into his hands to give him ready access to my smiling mouth.
And he did.
As the setting sun lit the sky on fire above us, his kisses seared his name on my heart. A half an hour later, while the first stars blinked into view in the darkness settling around us, we held hands and walked home together, Pete and Juno scampering along behind on their long leashes.