Love in the Time of Cynicism (23 page)

“No!” I protested immediately, then reconsidered my answer. “Not really. Not anything specific, I mean. It’s just something I’m expecting to happen, you know?”

She raised an eyebrow and screw up her face to a serious expression. “There’s not anything you can plan; it’ll happen when it happens and you’ll have to roll with the punches, if that’s what he’s into.”

I rolled my eyes. “I get that but, like, what should I
do
?”

She laughed at me for nearly ten minutes before finally saying, “Bring a condom. Or start the pill if you can. That’s all you need to know, my virginal grasshopper.”

Reliving this conversation, I groan and instantly remember where I am: sitting next to my boyfriend, who I was thinking about having sex with. Dear god, I’m in deep.

Rhett chuckles and I feel his chest move, “What was that about?”

The credits of the movie roll and the twins as well as Sawyer scurry off on cue. I sigh, sit up, and reply, “Nothing.” I pause and look him over. He’s watching me intently with those insanely amazing like he actually cares about what I have to say, unlike every other person in my life. I can trust him. I
do
trust him, enough that I blurt out, “Can I ask you something? Something personal?”

Rhett inhales and straightens his posture. “Anything.”

“Are you-?” I cut myself off and blush from my hairline to my chest, betrayed by my own body.

“Jesus, it’s so cute when you do that,” he laughs. His thumb brushes over my cheek as he goes on, “What do you want to know?”

My face heated beyond repair, I decide to ask. I’m the first person who should hear this, after all. “Have you…? I mean, are you a virgin?”

Though he runs a hand through his hair and blows out a lungful of air, I can tell he isn’t surprised by the question. If I’m lucky, he’s even been thinking the same thoughts about me.

Full of nervousness as his response comes later and later, I rush out, “Because I am and it’s not, like, super important to me but I figured it would be good for me to be aware of how out of my league I am before we, if we-”

“I am, okay?” His laugh escapes through his words. Despite this easy response, his tan face has gone deep red like mine and I can’t help but smile at the affect my words have on him. “So you aren’t out of your league, if that’s what you’re worried about. You know, if we-” He stops, the constant smile widening across his lips. “Hold the phone; Cordelia Kane, have you been thinking about it?”

I stand, flustered and flushed beyond my wildest dreams, and cross my arms over my chest. He stands and rests his hands on my waist in the way I love more than almost anything and I lean closer to him, drag my palms down his chest and loop my fingers under the waistband of his jeans. He sucks in a breath as I press my lips to his neck and whisper, “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it.”

“Only when you do things like this,” he moans softly. He kisses the top of my head, pulls away, and says almost too-enthusiastically, “I can’t wait for our date tonight. It’s going to be fantastic.”

“It better be, after all this hype,” I joke. Then I glance at the clock and grin. “You prepared to go trick-or-treating?”

At five fifteen, Tannis’s young suitor Jeremy arrives bearing flowers and chocolate bought from a drug store with his weekly allowance. Seriously. The kid’s thirteen and knows how to treat a woman better than most grown men. This kid’s going places. Tannis squeals as Rhett watches disapprovingly from the corner. Mr. Tressler makes his way home around six thirty, right as the sun’s going down and the Halloween vibe finally takes over. He shakes hands with Jeremy the Boyfriend and tells the kid to be good to his little girl before wrapping Sawyer, Evan, and Ethan in a great big hug and retreating for his evening radio show. This will be the first radio show Rhett and I haven’t listened to together but, hopefully, tonight will be better than the intangible space of phone calls.

Between the hours of seven and nine, Rhett and I lead a young Batman and Robin around with Charles Darwin, who has to explain to almost every well-meaning parent that he isn’t Abraham Lincoln without the hat. It’s adorable how dedicated Sawyer is to the costume. He details the theory of evolution to me for a good half hour between candy stops and I listen like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard and not something I spent a year groaning over in ninth grade science. I learn that, appropriately, Sawyer wants to be a scientist and the twins want to be superheroes, though they argue mindlessly over who the sidekick will be once they get powers for real. Ethan, the elder, argues he has first born rights while Evan protests, citing his strength and speed as benefits for fighting crime and evil. I’m paraphrasing, of course, but the conversation is pretty riveting for one shared between generally incoherent four year olds on their first Halloween spree.

Perhaps the best part of trick-or-treating, as expected, is Rhett. The entire time, he’s bumping into me and teasing me and flirting and smiling in the way nobody else can. He’s put on a fake mustache for the sake of his younger brother’s and everything he says is ten times more hilarious.

When we bring the boys back home around nine fifteen, the twins collapse into their mother’s arms. Susie’s come home early to see them off to bed and to get me and Rhett off babysitting duty. Before taking the boys to their room, she looks purposefully at Rhett and says, “Not too late, alright?”

“No promises,” he replies with a wink in my direction.

“Be careful,” she goes on, then grimaces, “with, you know, whatever. And have fun.”

On our way out, Tannis gives me a pointed look, pulls me down to her level, and says, “Remember what I told you this morning. About how to tell when he loves you. He’ll impress you, and he’ll take care of you. I expect a status report next time we talk.”

“Will do, captain.”

Chapter Thirteen – Stars Collide

Rhett takes me on his motorcycle to a corn maze erected half an hour from town where the Eleora River starts feeding into the Orfeo. When we park after a long drive of bumpy roads, it’s on a gravel parking lot and the rocks bite into the soles of my shoes. The air is warmer than I thought it would be, perfect for night time.

“A corn maze.” I laugh, “For real?”

“What?” He scoffs, “You don’t like corn mazes?”

“Never been to one,” I admit as Rhett procures two tickets from his leather jacket’s pocket and hands them to a man collecting under an archway. There’s a pavilion bathed in yellow light, the only light for miles around. A crowd of teenagers, mostly, loiters under the roof, waiting for a man to give instructions and release them into the maze. Rhett and I mingle within them, not speaking but connected in so many unspoken ways. His fingers lace into mine and my shoulder brushes his chest.

At a table toward the front of the cement pavilion, there’s a group of volunteers giving our bright green wristbands and maps. Once we’ve successfully shoved our way through the crowd, we hold our wrists out and are given bands. I shove the map into the back pocket of my jeans and excitement begins to bubble up inside me. I could care less where we are. The fact is, I’m with Rhett, here and now, and that makes it perfect.

I have to admit though, that when Rhett leans close to one of the volunteers and says, “I’d like to pick up my package under ‘Tressler,’” my curiosity peaks. When he’s handed a stuffed backpack full of god knows what, my interest has reached a maximum.

I stand on my tiptoes to try at a better angle as he hoists the bag onto his back. Planning has gone into this corn maze excursion, I see. Slightly wary but mostly excited to be here with him, I narrow my eyes and ask, “What’s going on?”

“Only the grandest of surprises,” he promises as he squeezes my fingers in his. “Trust me?”

“Always.”

An ancient, pot-bellied man in stirrups and a cowboy hat sporting a bushy, squirrel-sized, merv-style mustache steps in front of the crowd and clears his throat. There’s no microphone, but his booming voice projects over us well enough without one. “Alright, youngsters, settle down. The maze, my pride and joy, is moved over four acres of land which, for you city folks, is quite a bit. There are twelve checkpoints and anyone who gets all twelve stamped onto your map gets free food for the rest of the night. Now, It’s damn easy to get lost so please use your maps and don’t sue when your sorry ass is stuck somewhere in the middle because you were too stupid to look at your map.” He sighs heavily because, presumably, too many people have sued his lowly corn maze. Then, he gives us one last squint and barks, “Get going.”

Rhett tugs on my hand urgently and leads me to the entrance of the maze.

“What’s the game plan?” Always one for order, I ask, “Are we getting the checkpoints or romping around for the hell of it?”

“Neither.” He smirks wickedly and replies, “Follow me. And trust me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Hell, most likely,” he laughs deeply. Then he takes off running and weaving his way through other groups and couples. As noted during the hopping-fences episode, I am by no means a runner. But when your boyfriend takes off through a corn maze and he’s your ride home, what else is a girl to do? My feet thud against the (slightly muddy) dirt as he sprints ahead of me without waiting.

After a few minutes of torturous racing, I’m about twenty feet behind him when Rhett decide we’ve run far enough and stops. He grins, face illuminated by a flashlight that’s shown up out of nowhere. The boy is more prepared than I thought. “You alright?”

“Dandy,” I wheeze. After a minute, I’ve caught my breath and stare at him. We’re surrounded on all sides, shockingly, by corn. We’ve run far enough and fast enough that there are no other people in sight and time freezes around us. As I’m tilting my head up to look Rhett in the eyes, I notice he’s watching the sky and follow his gaze with my own. While the sky’s as beautiful as it usually is once you get far enough from town, there’s nothing overly spectacular about it, but Rhett peers over the moon and stars like he’s never seen anything quite so wonderful. His golden eyes are soft brown in the darkness and I’m lost in them as he is in the starts.

After a while, Rhett looks down at me and says, “Almost time.”

“For what?”

“You’ll see.”

Sarcastically, I tell him, “This cryptic bullshit is harshing my vibe, Tressler.”

Secretly, though, I love the feeling of piecing together what’s happening and, more than anything, knowing he spent time, at some point, putting an elaborate scheme in place for me. Only for me. He makes me feel special like nobody’s ever bothered, and that alone leaves me thinking about tonight. About how I think I’ve finally gotten up the guts to tell him, once and for all, that I love him. That I’m
in love
with him and how insanely awesome that feels. Like my soul’s on fire and igniting at the same time as if it might take flight at any moment. It’s stupid and girlish and wonderful in the same moment.

He throws an arm around my shoulder and says, “Give it a minute or so. Everything’ll make sense then. For now, we walk.”

So we do, talking about anything and nothing and everything as time passes imperceptibly around us. Neither of us brought a phone or watch, so it’s only the two of us and the moon marking the passage of time. For me, the minutes we go through the corn maze, words passing between us naturally enough you’d think we’d known one another a life time, are frozen and whole as they etch themselves into my memory.

After we’ve walked a while without looking at the map, Rhett smiles broadly and says, “Still trust me?”

“You don’t need to ask.” I roll my eyes. “I’d trust you off the edge of cliff.”

“You might have to,” he replies coyly and my eyes pop wide open at how serious he is.

He reaches for my hand but I realize how sweaty my palms are. Because I’m gross and slightly nervous, I wipe them on my pants and he laughs at me. “Sorry.”

“Totally fine,” he replies, still laughing through his words. He takes my hand anyway and leads my not through the cleanly mowed lines of the corn maze but into the corn itself. As he smacks stalks out of my way, I begin to notice that every few feet there are painted ears of corn. Flaming orange as well, very visible in the night. A sneaking suspicion hints that Rhett did this, made a small path for the two of us to trek though on our way to the location of our mystery date.

And when the line of dead and dying corn high as my head breaks suddenly, my jaw drops so fast I nearly have to catch it.

We’ve walked onto a wide cliff jutting over the basin of the river. Suddenly the stars are alight and breathtaking, reflected off the rippling water with daring intensity as they swirl together in streams of light and color. Far off, Lightfoot sits on the shore of the river and I finally understand why they called it that in the first place. Yellowing houselights hover in the purple night, clustered against one another and drenched with sky. The town is glowing like a soul on fire and the horizon begs for its light. The moment my eyes leave Lightfoot, though, it’s pitch black on the pier and only Rhett is there with me. We’re alone, far away from any worries and obligations.

“This is amazing,” I breathe softly, afraid a loud voice would break open this night.

Rhett’s thumb trails over my cheek and he says, “I wish you could see yourself right now, with the moonlight on your skin and the stars in your eyes. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”