HANNAH
My Heart Insists Everything is Going to Be Just Fine
He’s nervous.
I know this because I’ve spent the last five months observing him. Usually I’m the nervous one. His jaw is clenched. He’s fiddling with the knobs on the control panel of his car and adjusting himself in his seat, as if he can’t find a comfortable spot. The hand wrapped around the steering wheel is white-knuckle tight. He sighs, then swipes the other hand down his thigh before turning down the music.
I lay my hand over his, now resting on the gear shift.
He glances at me and smiles.
No dimples.
It’s the first time he’s bringing me home to meet his parents, and though Seth and I have a lot of history, I’ve never met them outside of a brief interaction when he was in the hospital or when I saw them at one of his games. Sure, I’ve spoken to them over Facetime. It wouldn’t be so much to make the trip, but Seth hasn’t been ready. So while he’s gone home to help his mom or help with his dad, I work the advocacy stuff I’m doing to help teenage girls in abusive relationships and prepare for the impending case against Sebastian. After his arrest and arraignment, he’s out. I wish I could say his choices ruined his football career, but he still got drafted in the second round. At least we’ll have our day in court.
Seth’s parents have just returned home from Portland after his dad underwent an experimental procedure while he’s waiting for a transplant candidate. Seth offered to come home and help his mom and asked me to come with him. A milestone, I think. Maybe he’s regretting it now.
“Talk to me,” I tell him and run my thumb over his knuckles.
We’ve made it to Benson, and he changes lanes as we take the off-ramp into town.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’ve never brought anyone home,” he admits, glancing over his shoulder and merging into a lane.
“Never?”
“Abby and Gabe don’t count. We were kids. They never actually met my parents. And–”
“–you don’t know how he’ll be.”
Seth glances at me, and I see the worry strain the corner of his eyes. He looks back at the roadway and brings the car to a stop at the red light.
“You asked me to come with you to support you, remember?”
He nods. “And you nagged me about it.” He grins, a real one, turning his hand over and threading our fingers.
“If I could have spent more time with my dad–” It’s a broken record. I have nagged him. If I’ve learned anything over the last two years, it’s that you can’t know what the next day will bring. I’ve stopped beating myself up over the circumstances surrounding my father’s unexpected death—therapy has helped—and I see the futility in mulling over the what ifs and should haves and could haves. I’ve faced what happened with Sebastian and understand the futility in regretting it. It just is. Like Seth and his dad. I know Seth understands, he’s said it in so many ways, but I know he also struggles with his painful memories associated with his dad. “I know he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you do.”
He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Have I told you today that I love you?”
I grin. “I never get tired of hearing it.” Leaning across the center console, I press a kiss to his cheek.
I look out the window and enjoy the quaint town, not unlike Cantos. It’s high in the Cascades, the peaks of snow-covered mountains—even in June—settling around it like sentries on guard. The buildings are brick, the streetlamps resembling olden-style gas lamps. Antique shops, alleyway restaurants, little boutiques, sporting good mom-and-pop shops, a used bookstore, a quaint coffee shop. There aren’t any chain stores on this street. People are layered in colorful light jackets. It’s early summer, but there’s still a chill in the air as evening arrives.
“It’s cute. I like it.”
“You do?”
“You don’t?” I ask.
“When we first moved, I hated it. Everything about it, especially the snow.”
“You missed me.” I smile as we pass a woman walking her giant, hairy Newfoundland dog down the sidewalk. I look back at Seth.
He’s smiling. “You’re right. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and dry humping you on the beach.”
I laugh.
His smile fades. “What if he’s mean again?”
“Why?”
“Because of the pain and the medicine.”
“Don’t you think your mom would have said?”
He takes an extra beat of time to consider that. “Yeah. Probably. What if he looks like he’s dying?”
“He is, Seth.”
His head snaps my direction before snapping back. “Yeah.”
“And you’re a good son.”
He takes a deep breath, making another turn. We’ve entered a neighborhood of Craftsman style homes, the street lined with evergreens and deciduous trees dressed for summer. He drives the car into a driveway of a two-story Craftsman. It’s quaint, like the town, and humble, but well-kept.
“This is cute,” I say. “So far, I like everything about this place.”
He turns off the car, sets the brake, and turns in his seat to look at me. “Really?”
“Especially who I’m with.” I grin and lean toward him. “Really.”
Seth leans forward and kisses me, slow and deliberate, his hand wrapped around my neck to keep me close. “It’s going to be okay,” he says against my lips, as if he’s giving himself a pep talk.
“Of course, it is.”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
“There is no place I would rather be than with you.”
Seth presses his forehead to mine and sighs. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
I nod. “Let’s.”
When I climb from the passenger side of the car, I take a deep breath of the chilled mountain air. I turn to the house. Seth’s parents are already standing on the porch, as if they were waiting at the window for him to arrive. His mom grins from ear to ear and hurries down the steps, her arms already open. A noise of joy bursts from her as she moves toward Seth. “It’s almost your birthday,” she says and hugs him. Then she turns to me. “Hannah. I’m so excited to finally meet you in person.”
I smile, hug her, and glance at the man on the porch in a wheelchair, wrapped in a sweater. He’s thin, obviously ill, but he’s smiling. It’s clear, as Seth approaches him and they shake hands, the old growth between them is burning away and making room for the new.
Seth turns and looks at me. “This is Hannah.” He smiles and holds out his hand.
I take it.
“You’ve met my mom. I’d like to introduce you to my dad, Jack.”
“You must be very important,” Jack says, extending a hand.
I take Jack’s offered hand. My heart knows no matter what happens, everything is going to be just fine and give Seth’s hand a squeeze.
