Of Happiness (27 page)

Several hours later, it’s back to Harris and me. After Dad, Sarah, and Greg were confident that I would make a full recovery, they kissed me goodbye and took the plane back to D.C. Harris told Luke to take the rest of the week off; he wouldn’t go into work, either. Late in the afternoon, he organizes a conference call with several other partners at the firm to give them an edited update on yesterday’s happenings. It won’t be long before the story breaks—in fact, it already may have, I avoided media all day—and they need to know that his name would be in the news. The firm’s public relations director is notified, and she volunteers to field calls on Harris’ behalf. Strictly
no comment
. Harris spent time on the phone with the hospital, too. Claire’s still under sedation. Tomorrow he’ll visit her.

Now we’re lying in bed, watching
The Shawshank Redemption.
It’s one of our favorite positions: Harris’ back is propped up against the headboard, and I’m between his legs with his arms resting comfortably around my chest, holding me in place, so it’s easier to see the television.

Even though we’re physically relaxed, there’s a heavy cloud of tension surrounding us. I know there’s no remaining threat, but uneasiness remains. To distract myself, I try to engage him in conversation.

“When will your parents get here?”

“Friday,” he murmurs distractedly into my hair.

“This is an odd way to be introduced to my boyfriend’s mom and dad.” 

His grip on me tightens, but in his tone I hear a grin. “We haven’t the most conventional courtship; it will be par for the course.”

I shake my head as a chuckle escapes. “That’s true. But, uh, how do you think they’ll take to meeting me coupled with everything else?”

“Before this emergency trip, they knew all about you. You know I talk to them. Apparently the last time I spoke with my mother, she could hear a change in me. I can’t hide it from anyone, baby. Even through all this shit, you make me deliriously happy.”

I relax even further into his embrace, my eyes fluttering closed as his words sink in.

He isn’t finished yet.

“Before you came into my life, I drifted from day to day; the only things I allowed myself to focus on were work and taking care of my sister. There was no room for anything else in my life because I wouldn’t allow it. And then I met you and I found the woman who could make painful emotions disappear and make them bearable when I needed to face them. So, yes, I’d say that changes a man’s tone when he speaks to his mother.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he continues before I have the chance to utter any words.

“I’ve been through this insanity before, and I can tell you that days won’t be so easy for a while. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d like us to see my therapist because—”

“Okay.”

“That easy? I want to make an appointment for tomorrow.”

“It’s over physically, but my emotions… They’re so scrambled. One second I’m at peace being with my family and you. The next second I’m battling anxiety, wondering where are they hiding? What’s around the corner?”  

Guilt laces his response. “It won’t go away easily. There will be days upon days that you have no worries. And then times when you’re constantly fearful. If it hadn’t been for me, you never would have suffered from this.”

“It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault,” I say firmly. “You feel that way, I understand why you would, but Claire and Jared took it upon themselves to enact this plan. You have to believe me.”

His body sags. “It’ll take time.”  

I reach up to place my hands over his, lacing our fingers together. “There’s more to address than just lingering fears. After we find Cooper’s journal…”

I feel him nodding his head. “Will you come with me tomorrow to look for it? I can’t read it without you.”

Even though the concept of reading through Cooper’s journal is unsettling, upsetting, I can’t stop the rush of pleasure. That Harris would willingly share the ugliness with me, without reservation, signifies how far we’ve come in our relationship.

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” he says, sounding relieved.

We’re quiet as we watch the remainder of the film.

“I forgot to tell you something,” Harris says as the credits of the movie roll. Very carefully, he tilts me to the side, so we can make eye contact. Even though it stings a little, I wouldn’t dare tell him to readjust because I find his gray gaze a mixture of love and adoration.

“What’s that?” I ask a little breathlessly.

“I’m crazily in love with you, Edith Neff.”

A flush sweeps across my cheeks, heating them with what I know is a rosy tinge. But unlike the first time we met, where the blush stemmed from shyness, this time it’s brought on by happiness. His words hold the bad memories at bay, smothering any remaining uncertainty.

“I love you too,” I say huskily.

When he bends down to kiss me, lowering me flat on my back for easier access, I sink into the moment, focusing on the future. Even though it won’t be easy, I can see the reward at the end, and it will be worth the struggles.

One year later

W
ith an almighty yawn, I stretch my arms above my shoulders, rolling to my side in the reclined, oversized chair. When I drag my eyes open, I peer at Harris across the aisle of the airplane. He’s still asleep with a peaceful expression.

I sigh in relief, then press a button on the armrest to return the chair to an upright position. I push off the blanket tangled around my feet, feeling thankful that Harris and I know sleep without nightmares. It’s been several months since either of us had a sleep-jarring, terrifying dream, but I’m still grateful for soothing rest that we earned after our dedicated efforts to healing.

It would be wonderful to say that the past year has been a breeze, Harris and I quickly dominating what was left in the wake of Jared and Claire’s schemes. But that didn’t happen.

Things took a dive as soon as we found Cooper’s journal in a trunk underneath Claire’s bed. The words scrawled in his young hand matched what Claire confessed. And to our dismay, we quickly found out another source of his unhappiness—Claire manipulated him, convincing Cooper that their parents and older brother would never forgive him for being gay and that she could “fix him.” It was heartbreaking for me to read, but Harris was devastated. He and his parents had deduced that Cooper was gay and were waiting for him to come out when he was ready. Reading Cooper’s private confessions combined with my attack sent Harris into a deep spiral of guilt. Harris became paranoid, demanding that Marcus be with me whenever he couldn’t.

We fought. A lot.

Thank goodness for our therapist.  

Our issues were numerous—we struggled our way through guilt, fear, and letting go of the dark past that loomed behind us at every turn. Sometimes we met with Dr. Brown together, other times separately.

Harris and his parents were distraught when Claire had to make a permanent move into a psychiatric hospital in Michigan. She was perpetually stuck in her fifteen-year-old mind, unable to face that Cooper had died.

There was one bright spot in those early, dreary days: the visit from Harris’ parents. Madeline and Bob were warm and welcoming, despite the dreadful way of meeting.  

Smiling at the thought of the Grants, who visited us two additional times over the past year, I climb out of the chair and make my way down the airplane’s cabin to the bathroom.

The plane in question is somewhere over the sea making its way to Sydney, Australia. Once I’ve brushed my teeth and run a comb through my hair, I amble back toward my man who has woken up.

“Hi there,” I say when I’m next to him. He stands up to stretch, arms raised above his head revealing a delicious patch of skin.

With a playful growl, he tangles me in his arms, lifting me off the ground. “Good morning,” he grumbles into my ear.

“Is it morning?”

“Who the fuck knows?” I giggle as he drops me on my socked feet.

As Harris glances down at his watch, I fold myself into the bench seat and curl my legs beneath me.

“Five in the morning, Sydney time. We’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“And what will we do in the land down under?” I ask in an awful Australian accent.

Laughing at my goofy accent attempt, he falls into the spot next to mine, laying out his long legs before us. “I’m going to take you to the zoo and some fantastic restaurants. Mom wants to take you to the opera. Anything else you want, your wish will be my command.”

I beam at him, nearing jumping up and down in excitement. “Well, I did go through a bunch of websites and—”

“There’s a few places you want to check out for the blog.” He finishes with me. Whatever you want, you get.”

It’s my second trip out of the country. In the spring, he surprised me with a birthday vacation to Italy. When I halfheartedly protested that the gift was too extravagant, he told me he wanted to show me what Cooper found so funny at the Vatican. How could I argue with that?

When we deplane, I gulp in the fresh air thankfully. Claustrophobia started to settle in after Harris and I woke up from our rest, but now I’m full of excited energy. About thirty yards from the plane waits a black Bentley convertible. Madeline and Bob wave from where they stand outside the vehicle.

“Like father like son?” I tease Harris when we hit the bottom of the staircase.

“She loves giving me shit,” he mutters good-naturedly.

I ignore him, hurrying across the tarmac to an open-armed Madeline. My overnight bag bounces against my side as I practically run to her.

We’ve gotten close. Each time they visited, Madeline and I spent time alone, getting to know each other. It was an unusual experience for me, because Madeline’s mothering tendencies came out quickly. On one visit over the winter, I caught a cold on the night they arrived. Madeline swept into mom mode, doting over me like I was her child. Though unusual, her tenderness was very welcome and slowly we found a way into each other’s hearts. Now when Harris talks to her on the phone, he shares some of the conversation with me, so that I can chat with Madeline.

Bob, like his son, is more reserved. But he took interest in my business and applauded my entrepreneurship. His quiet, but friendly personality, made me feel at ease as soon as we met. We found common ground in football, and our little unit attended a game together when they visited.

As they worked to come together as a family, I fit into the mix like I was always supposed to be in the recipe.

Like their children, Madeline and Bob are both tall with fair coloring. When I get to her side, Madeline swallows me into a welcome embrace. “Hello, sweetheart.”

In response, I squeeze her closer. Then she’s passing me to Bob who gives me an equally warm greeting. He pats me on the back in a very fatherly way.

When I retreat and turn to glance over my shoulder, Harris is a few feet away with our array of luggage standing at attention around his feet. He’s got this look on his face, one that transcends every other expression. His gray eyes are soft, and his lips tilt toward a smile, a row of shiny white teeth peeking through. And the best part of that expression? As soon as he feels my gaze, he searches me out. That’s when the full-fledged beam makes an appearance. It’s contagious, my toothy smile matching his.

Then he strides closer, hugging his father, kissing his mom on her cheek, and hugging her in return to her embrace. 

Madeline insists on sitting with me in the backseat of the car. In the front, Harris and his father talk about something business related while Madeline outlines our itinerary. We make the trek into the heart of Sydney, but I’m too caught up in my conversation to pay too much attention to the sites surrounding me.

Bob deftly glides the car to stop in front of a gleaming skyscraper. A valet opens the passenger door, allowing Harris to gracefully climb out. He clasps my hand in his as he helps me exit the car. On the opposite side of the vehicle, his father does the same for his mother.