To See You Again (20 page)

"Toward the end, right before the doors opened, I
was sitting there in the dark with him and I just felt…I felt like I was finally
home," I whisper. "It's been so long since I felt that comfortable, and safe,
but it wasn't real, you know? It couldn't last." Tears begin streaming down
Vanessa's face now, too. As I say it out loud, it occurs to me how bittersweet
this realization is. I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve, because let's
face it, my dignity checked out a while ago. I smile at Vanessa. "Why are
you
crying?"

She giggles, wiping away her tears, too. "Ah girl,
you know I never miss out on a good sympathy cry." We both burst out into a
chorus of laughter that's as healing as it is loud. "Besides, this is a
glorious mess."

"You're not kidding.
I'm
the mess. My
emotions are still all over the place. I don't know what to think or feel! I
don't see how I can reconcile all this old stuff with Collin, with the life I
have now, without completely screwing everything up. That's a sign, right? That's
why I don't think I can see him again." I wipe my face with the back of my
hand.

"OK. Let's put Collin on the backburner and talk
about Beck again, because even though he may not know it, he's right in the eye
of this storm," Vanessa says.

I swallow, feeling oh-so-guilty. "You're right."

 "OK then, I'll be the first to admit I'm not his
biggest fan when it comes to you. There. I said it." She puts her hands up.

"Yeah, I know," I say, sarcastically. "It's hardly
front-page news. You barely hide it sometimes," I chide. Vanessa shrugs me off.
She's not one to back down even in the face of my obvious disapproval. "Although,
it
is
a little bizarre because you were the one that set us up,
remember?"

"I'm aware. It's just once you two started dating
he got all weirdly bossy with you, and you just accepted it." She says this
matter-of-factly and without the tone of judgment that her comment implied. I
look away from her and pick at the seam in my jeans. She's said this before. It
certainly isn't shocking to hear her repeat it, but I can't escape feeling a
little stupid when she points it out.

"Hey," Vanessa says gently. "I'm not trying to
make you feel bad. I know he isn't some kind of asshole and even if he were,
that certainly wouldn't be anything
you'd
need to apologize for. In
fact, I honestly think it works for you. If you wanted to, you could probably
shift things a little more between you two, but I don't think that's how you
guys operate."

"What does that mean?" I try to wash out any
defensiveness in my voice. The part of me that feels hurt by this conversation
isn't as important as the side of me that needs to understand why I'm like this.

 "Alright. So here's the thing. I think when Beck
is always in the driver's seat you take that as reassurance he's never going to
leave. You may not like where the car is going, but you're not willing to
either get out of the car, or take over driving." She takes a deep breath and
continues. "I'm not saying that's all bad, because I do think he really loves
you and he isn't going to, ya' know, drive you off a cliff." I shoot her a
confused look. "OK, OK, enough with the car metaphor. What I'm getting at is I
think it's OK, if Beck kinda runs the show as long as you're getting what you
really want…but are you?"

"You mean is Beck who I want?"

"No. Not just Beck. How Beck is. Rachel you're
strong enough to exercise more influence in the relationship, but the only way
you seem to, is by refusing to let things progress. I mean you guys could be on
a more serious track by now, ya' know, living together at least, but you always
find some passive way to thwart things." I shrug and stare at the floor. There
isn't really anything she's said so far I could effectively argue against. "I
think you need to ask yourself why that is." She taps my foot with her own.
"How ya' doing? Are we still friends?"

I return my gaze to hers and force a smile. "Of
course we are!" She stares back at me wearing an uncharacteristically worried
expression. I bite my lip and hesitate before asking, "So, do you think he's wrong
for me?"

"Not necessarily. Look, I'm not sure we should
really be comparing guys here, but for arguments sake, I'll say this—I never
worry Beck will
really
hurt you, even when he's being all macho and
annoying. Collin, on the other hand….phew." She exhales a long and slow breath before
continuing. "He's always held your heart in the palm of his hand, long before
either of you knew it, and well…he's Collin," she says, like that explains
everything.

"Maybe he's changed," I offer. Vanessa shrugs and
nods, but she doesn't look convinced. "I want him to be both different and just
the same, you know?" I say, realizing how drama-queenish that sounds. "That's
the other weird thing, a part of me is so thrilled for him that he seems all
put together and then there's this other, selfish, darker part of me that sort
of hates him for it."

Vanessa gives me a surprised look. "What do you
mean?"

"Well, when I turned him down, or whatever, all
those years ago, I thought
I
had it all together. I always saw myself
like that, organized and driven, and he was just floundering, and now fast
forward to present day and
I'm
the frickin' mess.," I say disgustedly.

She shakes her head at me. "You're not a mess,
Rachel. Stop saying that."

"I am, though. I haven't evolved in some
meaningful way, not like him. I haven't made radical changes."

"Well, he had a lot of changes to make, Rach. Do
you think maybe you're feeling bad because you bet against him?"

I pause. That hadn't occurred to me, but she might
be on to something. I shrug. "Maybe."

"Ten years is a long time. A lot has happened for
both of you since then. It's OK to reflect on the past, but don't get stuck
there. You made the best choice you could at the time." She pats my hand. "Who
knows? Maybe losing you really helped him."

I look up at her. "That's a depressing thought."

"Why?" Vanessa looks offended.

"Because, doesn't that just mean he's better off
without me."

She shakes her head. "That isn't what I meant, and
you know it. I'm just trying to say that sometimes when something really awful
happens, it's an opportunity to make ourselves better." She smiles at me. "Sounds
like that's what he did."

I nod, thinking about his depression and how he
said hitting rock bottom is what led to him finally getting better. "So, what
the hell do I do now?"  

"Like I said, Rach, glorious mess. No matter what,
you have to figure this thing out. Beck may not be perfect, but he does deserve
to know where he stands. If you don't think he's ‘the one', then no matter what
is
or
is not
going on with Collin, you have to make some
decisions about the relationship you're in."

I nod my head in agreement. Vanessa has always
been able to tell me how it is, without making me feel any less loved; it's
what makes us best friends.

"Leighton? You here?" I toss my briefcase down and
shrug off my coat. No answer. I head upstairs to get changed, calling her name
out two more times—still no answer. When I reach my room, I see her clothes
tossed in a bundle on my bed. So she
is
here. I switch into some loose
fitting jeans and a t-shirt and am surprised she hasn't come to find me yet.
She usually greets me at the door when she gets here before me. I stroll
downstairs to the basement, the only place I haven't checked. "Hey Leighton,
are you down here?" I call from the staircase. "Please don't bother cleaning
up. I have the maid service coming tomorrow and they can take care of the
sheets and everything."

I reach the bottom of the stairs and instantly see
her. She's standing in front of the photo of Rachel, and it's clear she's been
crying. All the moisture leaves my mouth.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

"It's her, isn't it?" She continues to stare at
the photo. I don't answer and then she looks over at me. Her eyes are rimmed
with red, her cheeks damp. "Collin?"

"Yes." I close the distance between us.

"So, were you two a couple or something?"

"No, it wasn't like that," I say calmly. I gently place
my hand on her shoulder, and she moves out of my reach.

"What
was
it like? I feel like I don't know
you at all. I knew there was something more between the two of you, and you let
me feel like I was crazy." Before I can answer, Leighton assaults me with a
barrage of questions. "Why was everything so strained this morning? What
happened in the elevator? Why have you
never
told me about her?" She
begins trembling and then she's full-on shaking and crying. I can't take it. I
pull her into my arms. This is about so much more than this photograph and we
both know it.

"Leighton. Shhhhh…. It's my past. I don't like to
talk about things from that time in my life. You know that. It wasn't meant to
hurt you," I say, rubbing her back.

She pulls back to look up at me. "She was really
important to you, wasn't she? That's why you never wanted this photo upstairs,
like I suggested, right? It was too painful?" She searches my face.

I stare back at her and carefully wipe her tears
with my thumbs. "Yes," I whisper. I take her hand and guide her up the stairs. She
sits down on the couch and I bring her a glass of water. She sips it
tentatively, her breath still shaky, and then reaches for my hand. I ease down
next to her on the couch and take a deep breath.

"We were best friends in college for several
years. Eventually, I realized I had feelings for her and one time I
acted
on those feelings." As the words come out, I realize this is the first time
I've told anyone about this. It feels like a goddamn confession.

"Did she feel the same way?" She bites her lower
lip.

I shake my head ‘no'.

"Do you
still
have feelings for her?" Leighton
asks, her voice cracking again.

"I don't know her anymore, Leighton. It's been a
really long time." She wriggles her hand out of mine.

"That's not a ‘no', Collin."

"Look, it didn't end well between us, and it
fucked me up for a long time because we were so close, and I don't
get
close to people." I run my fingers through my hair and look away from her,
staring off into the kitchen.

"Are we close?"

"Yes," I say, sounding more exasperated than I
intended.

"Then why didn't I know about this? Or her? Why
have you kept it from me?" Tears start running down her cheeks again.

"It wasn't about keeping it from you, Leighton. I
just never saw a point in talking about it. It was over and done with and I
really wanted to forget about it," I reply, as calmly as I can. Leighton
examines my face carefully and looks completely unconvinced.

"I want to
know
you!" she cries.

"You
do
, Leighton." I try to pull her
toward me, but she resists, pushing me away.

"That's the thing, Collin. Our pasts are part of
us, especially the painful stuff. The tough things you went through made you
the man you are today, and all of that shapes your future too,
our
future. If you aren't telling me about these big parts of your past, then that's
the same as lying to me!" she yells.

"That's a bit dramatic, Leighton. Don't you
think?"

She slams her water glass down on the table and
stands, turning to face me. "No, Collin. Keeping a poster size photo of the
girl you love in your basement for ten years, and then hiding her identity from
your girlfriend—now
that's
dramatic!"

 "That's
because you know I'll beat you." Beckett's brother Brandon tips his head back
slightly, flopping his shaggy, dark hair aside. It returns in the exact same
spot on his forehead, slightly covering his left eye.

"Whatever,
dude. You're not going to suck me in again," Beck replies, refusing to make eye
contact. I glance over at his mother, enjoying her bemused expression.

"It's
good to know you two have grown up," she quips, giving me a wink.

"Just
make sure you ask your mother if you can be excused from the table before you
two race each other to the basement," I tease. No one here needs a crystal ball
to know that's exactly what's coming next. Brandon and Beck meet each other's
eyes at the same moment and burst away from the dinner table in a flurry. Just
as Beck pulls away from his chair, he bangs his long leg on the edge of the
table, causing all the silverware to rattle and his water glass to topple over.
I catch it just in time and he winks at me.

"Thanks,
Baby. Sorry, Ma!" he calls out as he and Brandon shove each other en route to
the basement door. I turn and smile at Beck's mom Lydia. It's a rare night at
their house. Usually, there are at least seven of us, but Beck's dad is out of
town and his other brother and his wife couldn't make it.

"I guess
some things never change," Lydia says as she and I collect the dishes and head
to the kitchen. "They've always been so competitive. At least it's just the two
of them fighting tonight." I nod, thinking of how the three of them seem to
bring their collective age down at least ten years whenever they're together.
"I secretly sort of love it," she whispers as she fills the sink with hot,
soapy water. "It's a good reminder that they're still my babies." She turns and
smiles warmly at me. Beck's mom should be eligible for the sainthood, for what
she's put up with while attempting to run this house full of testosterone. She
wears her gray hair in a youthful ponytail nearly all the time, and I've often
thought how much that reflects who she is—this wonderful combination of wisdom
and an energetic spirit. I hand her a plate, and after placing it aside with
the other dishes, she gives me a tight squeeze. "You don't seem like yourself,
Rachel. Are you OK?"

I
inexplicably blush. "Oh yeah, I'm fine."

She
smirks, not buying my BS in the slightest.

"Beck
has told me things at work have been a little stressful for you lately." She
smiles again.

I shrug.
"Yes, that's true. I have some big things going on now. It's complicated."
To
say the least.

"Don't
put up with assholes for too long, Rachel. That's what I always say. If you're
not careful, they'll make you into one, too." I grin and nod, enjoying her
advice, which is, as always, delivered in her frank, and occasionally crass,
style.

"I can
handle the assholes, I think. There's just a lot riding on this thing I have
coming up, and I need to do everything right. If it goes well, I could finally
get some of the advancement I've been hoping for." Yelling erupts from the
basement and we both giggle. "What is it with boys and video games?"

"Who
knows?" she laughs. I hand her another dish, which she dunks in the water. She
gazes out her kitchen window just over the sink and asks me in an
uncharacteristically serious voice, "Are you sure that's all, Rachel? You seem
off
tonight." I shrug.  "I know I'm not your mother and I don't intend to
replace her, but I see you as a daughter and if I can ever help you, I'd like
to."

My
throat clenches. I want to tell her how much I see her that way too, but it
feels like such a betrayal to my own mother to say it out loud. It always has.
I know my mom loves me, but she's had a tough time being there for me in the
way I've often needed. Lydia ushered me into her home and their life as though
I'd always belonged. I've never really communicated just how much it has meant
to me. I feel like I need Lydia now more than ever. Nothing in my life feels
like it's in its place or makes sense, but the trouble is a big part of it is
her son. I know I love Beck, but I'm not sure if I love him enough, and all of
that makes me feel like I don't deserve her, or any of this…this beautiful
family life that she's offered to me so unconditionally. I feel like an
imposter.

"Thanks,
Lydia." I place my head on her shoulder and she hugs me again, wetting my
sleeve with her soapy hands.  Beck bursts upstairs.

"Almost
ready to go, Rach?" he asks in an overly casual tone. He's scratching his head
as though he just woke from a nap. It's a lame cover for his disappointment of
losing in whatever juvenile virtual death match he just had with his brother.

"Got
beat that bad, huh?" I retort.

"Yeah he
did!" Brandon appears in the kitchen with a smug grin plastered on his face. He
and Beck could be twins if it weren't for Brandon's graying hair and slight
potbelly.

"Ah,
whatever. He plays twice as much as I do," Beck mumbles. I refuse to comfort
him over lost video games. I've tried to watch him play, but I haven't a clue
what's going on and I definitely don't care.

"Let me
help your mom finish cleaning, then we can head out," I say.

Lydia
takes the towel from me. "Oh, nonsense. You two have work early. Brandon, c'mon
in here and help me with the last of this." She gestures to the remains of the
dinnerware and Brandon nods and heads over to me.

Taking
the towel from my hands he says, "You better drive Beck home, Rach, I'm not
sure if he's safe to drive with all those tears of loss in his eyes." He points
at his own eyes and rolls his lower lip down in an exaggerated frown.

I look
behind me for Beck's reaction, but he's already in the front hall getting our
coats and is safely out of earshot. I give Lydia and Brandon hugs goodbye and
head out with a significantly grumpier Beckett.

*** *** ***

A short
while later, in my bedroom, Beck places his arms around my bare midriff and
starts a trail of feather-light kisses along my neck. I pull away from him and slip
my pajama shirt over my head.

"Hmm…" he
frowns. "So, I'm locked out?"

I
scrunch up my face in confusion. "Locked out?"

He gazes
at me from top to bottom. "Well, that over-sized t-shirt doesn't exactly say,
yes,
I want to sleep with you too, tonight."

He's
right.

"I
didn't say that," I defend.

"You
didn't have to. That shirt says it all," he says, sounding defeated.

I reach
up and cup his face with my palm. He regards me quietly; a trace of rejection
just below the surface can be seen in his eyes. This isn't the first time I've
seen that look, or been responsible for putting it there. Before we started
dating, I was aware that Beck was interested, mostly because Vanessa, who introduced
us, insisted emphatically that he was. We did the group thing with Vanessa and
Ryan a number of times before he started calling me. Then we hung out alone a bit,
but I purposely kept things light and casual.

Then, after
a couple of months, I showed up to work one day and there was a tremendous
bouquet of flowers in the center of my desk. It was seriously the largest
arrangement I'd ever seen outside of some charity ball or wedding. Inside was a
card from Beck making his intentions crystal. The ladies in my office went
crazy and I had to ask myself why I wasn't just going for it? He's smart,
funny, handsome and very clearly, likes me. What was my problem? So, that same
night we had our first true date and we've been together ever since. I used to
feel like I had the upper hand in a way, because I'd held off so long in
accepting his advances, but he's more than made up for that by now. In just
about every way he rules our relationship, and Vanessa's right—I've let him do
it.

But when
it's just the two of us, alone in the dark, the scales seem to temporarily tip back
in my favor. We both know it. There's still some piece of him that worries I'll
reject those flowers. It scares us both. I inch up on my toes and bring my lips
to his. I feel both relief and passion course through him as he grips me
tighter and kisses me back.