The feel of him over her, around her, inside her was a powerful reminder of how intensely they had missed each other and how deep her feelings for him were rooted. Their reunion after so many weeks apart was now complete; they had talked, rehashed stories that were first written in letters during their absence, ate food from the diner where they shared their first date, and now as the moon kept watchful vigil over them, they consummated their love once again.
Mark Ainsworth had been called away leaving the two teenagers snuggled together in front of an episode of X-Files. It didn't take more than the sound of the door being shut and latched for Nick and Kaylin to act on the heat bristling between them as they lay on the faded blue sofa, their eyes barely following the movements of the screen.
Nick was lounging with Kaylin curled up between his legs, her head resting on his stomach, his fingers brushing absently through her hair when Mark came in the room to tell them he needed to take off. Kaylin was sure the excitement that began coursing through her was palpable, but before she could adjust herself she felt Nick's leg clamp down on her side. She looked up at him and he gave her a grin without taking his eyes of the flashing set in front of them. She relaxed back to where she was laying, taking the silent cue that he felt it too. Mark rushed about, going to change from his jeans into a dress shirt and tie; there was a possibility of another company moving in to town and he was called in to the discussion on the behalf of the union.
"Guys I'm sorry to have to bail on our welcome home party," Mark said as he gathered up papers from and stuffed them into a briefcase, "but if they want to hear from the union," he paused, "this is a good sign. Nick, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it, dad, seriously. I plan to be home for a long time," he laughed. Waving to Mark who was already heading for the door.
""Bye Mark," Kaylin hollered as the door was shutting.
Mark popped his head back inside, "Sorry, Kaylin, 'bye! Tell your dad what's going on, he'll want to know. Nick, I'm locking the door, the guy next door thought someone was breaking in the other day." Mark didn't wait for a reply, but pulled the door shut and locked the deadbolt from the outside.
At the sound of the door, Nick slipped his leg over Kay and slid down next to her, his back to the TV. "Well now I can't see the TV," Kaylin mockingly complained but snuggled against him, "I'm so afraid that I'm going to wake up and I'll just be alone wearing your shirt like always."
"Not like always, babe, just for the last few weeks," Nick said, brushing a stray lock of her hair away from her face. "and you're not going to wake up." He put his arm over her and rubbed her back. "Babe, I can feel every bone in your body," he stood up and took her hands in his, leading her to stand up as well, "c'mere, let me get a better look at you." He lifted her shirt up over her head and ran his hands down her arms then tracing her ribs with his fingertips.
"You know, some guys like skinny girls," she quipped, reaching up to put her arms around his neck.
"I'm not one of those guys. I like my girls to look like you, and right now you look more like Kate Moss," he put his hands flat against her stomach "look, my hands can go almost completely around your waist!"
Anxious to stop the scrutiny of her body, Kaylin reached for the hem of Nick's tee shirt and began to gather it up to pull over his head, "How 'bout we just stop talking for awhile?" she suggested and stepped closer to his body lavishing the feel of his skin against hers. "I missed you so much," she choked on her words as Nick craned his head back to look directly into her eyes as she went on, "it was so hard to do everything: to go to school, to stay at home, everything was a mess." Nick didn't say a word but pulled his arms around her to hug her. "I'm just so glad your back. Promise me your OK now. Promise me you won't ever go away under those circumstances again."
Nick nodded into her hair, "I promise," he mumbled as he started to kiss along the side of her face and down her neck.
This night their time together wasn't the awkward, groping sex of teenagers but the intimate clinging of two people desperate for the other. Nick found himself holding back tears when he was positioned to look at Kaylin's naked body lying under him. She had been wasting away while he was gone, and he felt guilty for it. He was right in comparing her to Kate Moss, all bones and skin, but what a beautiful set of bones and skin it was. He loved her like the earth around him and was desperate for the air and water that only she could give him. He learned that as his addiction to substances wained he would become addicted to the attentions and dependency of her, that it was a common problem of addicts, but he didn't care. Right now, and for as long as was humanly possible, she was his and she was all he needed.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Part Two: Chapter Thirteen
It was at this time, the time Kaylin found herself between when Nick had left and when he would return, that Kaylin decided to try acting. As a little girl her mother would sing with her while they cleaned or to pass the time while waiting for her father to get home. Her little performances would earn her one of the much coveted smiles from her father and a little peace in the house. Her father had even told her she should try out for the community choir or theater. But as the tension between her parents heightened, and her mother began to go out more and more the time Kaylin spent singing for her parents dwindled, and the idea of time spent on a stage was occupied with time spent keeping up with those responsible for her.
Now with Mark Ainsworth telling her to have a life outside of her relationship with Nick, and her own need to waste away the time before Nick got home, Kaylin went to the community theater to audition for a role in their spring production of Godspell. Kaylin found the idea of loosing herself in a different persona invigorating, and she immersed herself in the theater life. She volunteered to help with props for the next show, paid close attention to the hair and makeup application, and practiced singing the songs long before the first rehearsal scheduled for after the New Year. She put every detail in her letters to Nick, and his letters were full of support and repetitions of how happy he was that she was doing something other than shutting herself in her room. She mailed him pictures of the two of them, and of her for his walls, and he mailed her lyrics from songs that reminded him of her. She told him of the dramas going on in school and of the goings on at the local theater; he told her of group sessions and learning to meditate.
As the holidays approached Nick and Kaylin began to count down the days until his scheduled release. She was concerned that things wouldn’t be the same between them when he returned, and she was secretly fearful of their first meeting after so long apart. The countdown dwindled down from weeks to days, and finally days until hours; Mark Ainsworth left Riversedge early Friday to pick up and return with Nick Saturday afternoon. Kay didn’t go to school that Friday. She was restless and worried; part of her was aching to see Nick in a way that frightened her with its strength, but another part of her was terrified that when they saw each other the connection, the feeling she had when he was around would be gone. She stared at the picture she had taped to her wall: a candid picture of her and Nick, he was hugging her, her head was on his shoulder and his head was leaning on her forehead, he was wearing the softest smile. He looked so happy, so content; was it her or the drugs he must have been on? Was the intensity and chemistry they had together just a side effect of his drug habit? How much of him did she really know?
All her worries didn’t stop her from cleaning the house the way her mother had taught her so many years ago. She scrubbed the baseboards, polished the doorknobs, vacuumed every rug and then combed over the vacuum marks. She did anything to sway her mind from it's constant vacillating between the images of what her and Nick's reunion would be. She pictured the two of them running to each other in slow motion, like a poorly written movie, a long, passionate kiss and never speaking of where he had spent the last eight weeks. But then she would also picture an awkward hug, followed by uncomfortable silences punctuated with forced questions like, "Well, how've you been?" and uneasy glances from Mark who was constantly hovering over them. She couldn't figure out which scenario was more likely so she could prepare herself. Readying herself for big emotions was a necessity, and her indecision prompted her to clean the house manically and when she was done, she turned to herself.
She scrubbed her thick hair, now long past her shoulders and shaved her legs twice. She pulled on an old pair of blue jeans and noticed for the first time how baggy they felt. When she turned to view herself in the mirror, she saw a fraction of the person who was supposed to be staring back. The white, knit shirt she was wearing was no longer tight, but fell loosely around her. Nick had been gone for six weeks and in that time she had wasted away. She pulled her hair out of the twisted towel and let it fall wet and limp around her face. She had put on a light coating of makeup and now sat staring at her reflection. She was twisted with emotions when she heard the familiar sound of a car pulling up to the front of her house.
With her heart a hummingbird in a cage, Kaylin sprinted down the stairs. She peeped in on her grandfather, asleep in front of the television and checked that the note she had written for him an hour before was easily accessible to him. Along with the Ainsworth's home telephone number, she had written out that Nick was coming home and she was going with him and his father to welcome him home. Without stopping to wait for a knock, Kaylin opened the front door and before her stood Nick, same as he'd ever been: the same easy smile with dimples at either side, the same soft eyes that twinkled like lights in the sun.
In that instant, all her fears and visions of what might happen drifted away and again she was Kaylin McSandsen, the most beautiful girl in the world to this one boy.
Nick opened the storm door while Kaylin stood reeling in the moment. He put his hands on either side of her face and stared at her every feature, his eyes were glistening with tears not shed, his touch made her body warm, and for a moment, neither of them said a word. Nick was lost in the moment of seeing her again; this moment he had dreamt of nightly for the last eight weeks was unfolding itself before his eyes and he was lost in the process. As if moving her was moving another part of his own body, he easily brought her face up to his and kissed her lips gently, softly, relishing the taste and feel of her once again. They broke the kiss, and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, drawing her as close to him as he could hugging her tightly against him.
For the last eight weeks, Kaylin had been working herself into the ground; not one to step on scales she was sure that she had lost a considerable amount of weight since Nick held her last. His hands traced over her ribs as he surveyed her appearance. “Oh, Kay,” his voice was gentle and concerned, “babe, it seems you and I have been apart way too long. You need good diner food and lots of it.” He flashed her a mischievous grin, took her hand in his, and kissed it. “Let’s go get started.”
Now with Mark Ainsworth telling her to have a life outside of her relationship with Nick, and her own need to waste away the time before Nick got home, Kaylin went to the community theater to audition for a role in their spring production of Godspell. Kaylin found the idea of loosing herself in a different persona invigorating, and she immersed herself in the theater life. She volunteered to help with props for the next show, paid close attention to the hair and makeup application, and practiced singing the songs long before the first rehearsal scheduled for after the New Year. She put every detail in her letters to Nick, and his letters were full of support and repetitions of how happy he was that she was doing something other than shutting herself in her room. She mailed him pictures of the two of them, and of her for his walls, and he mailed her lyrics from songs that reminded him of her. She told him of the dramas going on in school and of the goings on at the local theater; he told her of group sessions and learning to meditate.
As the holidays approached Nick and Kaylin began to count down the days until his scheduled release. She was concerned that things wouldn’t be the same between them when he returned, and she was secretly fearful of their first meeting after so long apart. The countdown dwindled down from weeks to days, and finally days until hours; Mark Ainsworth left Riversedge early Friday to pick up and return with Nick Saturday afternoon. Kay didn’t go to school that Friday. She was restless and worried; part of her was aching to see Nick in a way that frightened her with its strength, but another part of her was terrified that when they saw each other the connection, the feeling she had when he was around would be gone. She stared at the picture she had taped to her wall: a candid picture of her and Nick, he was hugging her, her head was on his shoulder and his head was leaning on her forehead, he was wearing the softest smile. He looked so happy, so content; was it her or the drugs he must have been on? Was the intensity and chemistry they had together just a side effect of his drug habit? How much of him did she really know?
All her worries didn’t stop her from cleaning the house the way her mother had taught her so many years ago. She scrubbed the baseboards, polished the doorknobs, vacuumed every rug and then combed over the vacuum marks. She did anything to sway her mind from it's constant vacillating between the images of what her and Nick's reunion would be. She pictured the two of them running to each other in slow motion, like a poorly written movie, a long, passionate kiss and never speaking of where he had spent the last eight weeks. But then she would also picture an awkward hug, followed by uncomfortable silences punctuated with forced questions like, "Well, how've you been?" and uneasy glances from Mark who was constantly hovering over them. She couldn't figure out which scenario was more likely so she could prepare herself. Readying herself for big emotions was a necessity, and her indecision prompted her to clean the house manically and when she was done, she turned to herself.
She scrubbed her thick hair, now long past her shoulders and shaved her legs twice. She pulled on an old pair of blue jeans and noticed for the first time how baggy they felt. When she turned to view herself in the mirror, she saw a fraction of the person who was supposed to be staring back. The white, knit shirt she was wearing was no longer tight, but fell loosely around her. Nick had been gone for six weeks and in that time she had wasted away. She pulled her hair out of the twisted towel and let it fall wet and limp around her face. She had put on a light coating of makeup and now sat staring at her reflection. She was twisted with emotions when she heard the familiar sound of a car pulling up to the front of her house.
With her heart a hummingbird in a cage, Kaylin sprinted down the stairs. She peeped in on her grandfather, asleep in front of the television and checked that the note she had written for him an hour before was easily accessible to him. Along with the Ainsworth's home telephone number, she had written out that Nick was coming home and she was going with him and his father to welcome him home. Without stopping to wait for a knock, Kaylin opened the front door and before her stood Nick, same as he'd ever been: the same easy smile with dimples at either side, the same soft eyes that twinkled like lights in the sun.
In that instant, all her fears and visions of what might happen drifted away and again she was Kaylin McSandsen, the most beautiful girl in the world to this one boy.
Nick opened the storm door while Kaylin stood reeling in the moment. He put his hands on either side of her face and stared at her every feature, his eyes were glistening with tears not shed, his touch made her body warm, and for a moment, neither of them said a word. Nick was lost in the moment of seeing her again; this moment he had dreamt of nightly for the last eight weeks was unfolding itself before his eyes and he was lost in the process. As if moving her was moving another part of his own body, he easily brought her face up to his and kissed her lips gently, softly, relishing the taste and feel of her once again. They broke the kiss, and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, drawing her as close to him as he could hugging her tightly against him.
For the last eight weeks, Kaylin had been working herself into the ground; not one to step on scales she was sure that she had lost a considerable amount of weight since Nick held her last. His hands traced over her ribs as he surveyed her appearance. “Oh, Kay,” his voice was gentle and concerned, “babe, it seems you and I have been apart way too long. You need good diner food and lots of it.” He flashed her a mischievous grin, took her hand in his, and kissed it. “Let’s go get started.”
Part Two: Chapter Twelve
Nick was charged with possession and in lieu of jail he was sent to a rehabilitation facility in West Virginia. Kaylin went to the hearing and visited Nick as often as she could. At night, after she ate a silent meal with seanahair she would lock herself in her room and cry. It was like the years before him were nothing compared to the months with him. In such a short time she had gotten used to Nick's voice at dinner, his laughter at the sitcoms her grandfather watched after, and the feeling of safety that filled her when he was around.
Alicia even braved running into Aaron, and came over in an attempt to offer support to her grieving friend, only to sit on the floor while Kay lay in bed and watch TV in silence. In school, Kaylin saw the pity in the eyes of her classmates and came to realize why her father hated the emotion. She hated the idea of people feeling sorry for her, and she plastered on a smile as best she could. It took no time for the Kaylin McSandsen everyone had known for so long: quiet, dependable, easily ignored to return to everyone's lives.
After the first two weeks of separation, Nick's letters began to pour in. He wrote every day, long rambling letters full of his emotions and daily activities. Kaylin wrote to him every time she received one of his. At first she was careful about her wording, and offered support and encouragement that he was doing the right thing, but it didn't take long before her letter became much like his, full of longing, and sadness at his absence. She told him how alone she felt in the world, how she missed everything about him, how she wore his tee shirts to bed and they smelled so much like him that she would wake up sure that he was laying next to her like he used to. He wrote that at night he was next to her, and the only thing that kept him going during the rough nights was knowing she was going to be there when he was well. He was going to classes, so he would finish high school on time.
Thanksgiving came and went; Nick was still in West Virginia, Aaron McSandsen got work at a plastics plant in a nearby town, and Francis continued his weekly routine of the VFW, mass, and television. Kaylin spent the holiday dinner with her father and grandfather at the VFW like every year. She was thankful this year for finding love and for Nick's promise of recovery.
The Sunday following Thanksgiving the entire family attended mass. It was a solemn event seeign as how Aaron rarely went anymore. As they arrived home, Nick's father was starting to pull out of their driveway.
"Aaron," Mark Ainsworth said, getting out of the car to extend his hand, "how've you been?" the two had known each other since the Ainsworth's moved to town. Mark worked for the union Aaron belonged to and had been the one to notify Aaron of the work opening up in Cedar Creek. "Doing fine. It's good to see you," Aaron shook Mark's hand, genuinely surprised by his visit, "How was your holiday?" he asked politely, tugging at collar of his dress shirt.
"It's was all right. I was in Wheeling, visiting my son," Mark cast Kaylin a look and she defensively put her arms around herself. "I'm actually here to talk to Kay about it. That OK?"
Aaron half turned to look at his daughter, "Yeah, suppose so. Kay?" She stepped forward, "that OK with you?" she nodded and gave both men a smile. "Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to get my father inside and take off this monkey suit," Aaron joked, taking Francis' arm and escorting up the few steps to the house.
Once the storm door snapped shut Mark began, "How've you been, Kay? You doin' all right?" Mark Ainsworth was young and lean for his age. His salt and pepper hair was curly and unruly even though it was trimmed short. He leaned against his car and fiddled with the keys in his jacket pocket.
"I'm good. Well, good as to be expected. How's Nick? He writes that he's ok, but you know, is he really OK?" she stood in front of him, her posture ridiculously stiff compared to his relaxed state.
"Yeah, yeah he's doing good. Real good," his eyes moved away from Kaylin's and stared beyond her at some distant point. He absent-mindedly sucked at his teeth and sighed, "We've been through this before, he and I. His mother was in and out of rehab a lot, so we're pretty used to the drill. I guess I should have seen this coming."
"No you shouldn't have. I didn't. And I saw him a lot more than you did," Kaylin offered, trying to be supportive.
Mark let out a sarcastic laugh, "Yeah. Guess so."
"No, I didn't mean it like that," Kaylin quickly realized her mistake, "you saw him, it's just that we go to school together and"
Mark waved her hand to stop her. "Don't worry about it. This isn't either of our fault. But listen, honey," he pushed off of the car and stood up straight before her, "they - the people at the clinic - are worried you two are too codependent. Like, you can't separate yourselves. That's not good for his situation."
"Oh," Kaylin looked down at her feet, clad in black combat boots and barely peaking out under the cuff of her jeans. She was wearing a pretty, black sweater to dress up the outfit making it church-worthy, but you couldn't tell it under her thigh-length winter coat. "Um, what are you saying?" She asked carefully.
"Just..." Mark measured his words, he too had been in a toxic relationship and if it wasn't for his need to move because of a job he probably would still be, "try to find a life outside of Nick. I'm not telling you guys to break up, but you need to realize that if you do, it's not the end of the world."
"Oh," Kaylin repeated making a face as if she just smelled something awful. "Well, thanks," she looked him in the eye and layered on the sweetness as she added, "thanks for stopping by."
"Well, there's more," Mark began as he moved to the trunk of his car, "Nick sent this for you," he lifted a large brown paper bag covered in doodles and stapled closed. "Happy Turkey Day, I guess," he laughed.
Kaylin took the present and smiled, "Thanks," she laughed too.
"If all goes well," Mark said folding himself into the drivers' seat of his car, "it's looking like he'll be home by Christmas. So keep your fingers crossed. If I hear anything else I'll let you know," he shut the door but rolled down the window.
Kaylin hugged the bag to her chest, "Same here," she offered and waved him goodbye as he pulled out of his spot along the curb and drove away.
Once inside, Kaylin rushed upstairs to be alone with her gift. She sat on her unmade bed and curled her legs under her. She examined the pen and ink drawings covering the brown paper: he had drawn out their names, intersecting them at the 'i,' there were the logos of their favorite bands, and of course the obligatory hearts and love messages. The top of the bag was folded over twice and stapled awkwardly shut, making the whole present look like an old lunch bag. She was careful to pull open the top, popping each staple's grip. Inside was one of his sweatshirts, a big over-sized green thing that would look like a tent on her petite frame. The shirt was wrapped around something and she unfolded it to reveal a perfectly molded mask of Nick's face. Her eyes filled with tears as her fingers traced the curves of his eyes, his nose, his mouth. She put the mask up to her face and tried to imagine Nick doing the same. She set the mask on the pillow next to her knee and pulled on the sweatshirt. She looked again into the bag and found a carefully folded piece of yellow paper with her name on it.
She laid back on the bed, put the mask on her stomach and read:
"Dear Kay,
Hey babe, what's up? Same old shit here. Meetings, therapy, bad food, same as always. They told me that I'll be home for Christmas, as long as I don't fuck up. We've got chores and a schedule to follow and I've been so careful to do everything they tell me. I miss you so much. I know I tell you that all the time, but I never want you to forget it. I never want you to forget that every minute of every day I'm thinking of you and wanting to be home with you again. I sit through the meetings, the therapy, the programs, and I think of you and pray to God that I haven't destroyed the only thing in my life that has ever really mattered. A lot of the people here think I'm too young to be in real love, but I don't care what they think. This is love. I've had other girlfriends, and I know that this is different. I know what we have is better. We may be young and I may be fucked up, but I can see myself with you for the rest of my life.
How's school going? Tell Stephen that I'll be home in time for training for baseball and tell Alicia to take good care of you while I'm gone. Only a few more weeks.
I love you.
Nick
PS Hope you like the presents. They're as close to my being with you as I could get"
Alicia even braved running into Aaron, and came over in an attempt to offer support to her grieving friend, only to sit on the floor while Kay lay in bed and watch TV in silence. In school, Kaylin saw the pity in the eyes of her classmates and came to realize why her father hated the emotion. She hated the idea of people feeling sorry for her, and she plastered on a smile as best she could. It took no time for the Kaylin McSandsen everyone had known for so long: quiet, dependable, easily ignored to return to everyone's lives.
After the first two weeks of separation, Nick's letters began to pour in. He wrote every day, long rambling letters full of his emotions and daily activities. Kaylin wrote to him every time she received one of his. At first she was careful about her wording, and offered support and encouragement that he was doing the right thing, but it didn't take long before her letter became much like his, full of longing, and sadness at his absence. She told him how alone she felt in the world, how she missed everything about him, how she wore his tee shirts to bed and they smelled so much like him that she would wake up sure that he was laying next to her like he used to. He wrote that at night he was next to her, and the only thing that kept him going during the rough nights was knowing she was going to be there when he was well. He was going to classes, so he would finish high school on time.
Thanksgiving came and went; Nick was still in West Virginia, Aaron McSandsen got work at a plastics plant in a nearby town, and Francis continued his weekly routine of the VFW, mass, and television. Kaylin spent the holiday dinner with her father and grandfather at the VFW like every year. She was thankful this year for finding love and for Nick's promise of recovery.
The Sunday following Thanksgiving the entire family attended mass. It was a solemn event seeign as how Aaron rarely went anymore. As they arrived home, Nick's father was starting to pull out of their driveway.
"Aaron," Mark Ainsworth said, getting out of the car to extend his hand, "how've you been?" the two had known each other since the Ainsworth's moved to town. Mark worked for the union Aaron belonged to and had been the one to notify Aaron of the work opening up in Cedar Creek. "Doing fine. It's good to see you," Aaron shook Mark's hand, genuinely surprised by his visit, "How was your holiday?" he asked politely, tugging at collar of his dress shirt.
"It's was all right. I was in Wheeling, visiting my son," Mark cast Kaylin a look and she defensively put her arms around herself. "I'm actually here to talk to Kay about it. That OK?"
Aaron half turned to look at his daughter, "Yeah, suppose so. Kay?" She stepped forward, "that OK with you?" she nodded and gave both men a smile. "Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to get my father inside and take off this monkey suit," Aaron joked, taking Francis' arm and escorting up the few steps to the house.
Once the storm door snapped shut Mark began, "How've you been, Kay? You doin' all right?" Mark Ainsworth was young and lean for his age. His salt and pepper hair was curly and unruly even though it was trimmed short. He leaned against his car and fiddled with the keys in his jacket pocket.
"I'm good. Well, good as to be expected. How's Nick? He writes that he's ok, but you know, is he really OK?" she stood in front of him, her posture ridiculously stiff compared to his relaxed state.
"Yeah, yeah he's doing good. Real good," his eyes moved away from Kaylin's and stared beyond her at some distant point. He absent-mindedly sucked at his teeth and sighed, "We've been through this before, he and I. His mother was in and out of rehab a lot, so we're pretty used to the drill. I guess I should have seen this coming."
"No you shouldn't have. I didn't. And I saw him a lot more than you did," Kaylin offered, trying to be supportive.
Mark let out a sarcastic laugh, "Yeah. Guess so."
"No, I didn't mean it like that," Kaylin quickly realized her mistake, "you saw him, it's just that we go to school together and"
Mark waved her hand to stop her. "Don't worry about it. This isn't either of our fault. But listen, honey," he pushed off of the car and stood up straight before her, "they - the people at the clinic - are worried you two are too codependent. Like, you can't separate yourselves. That's not good for his situation."
"Oh," Kaylin looked down at her feet, clad in black combat boots and barely peaking out under the cuff of her jeans. She was wearing a pretty, black sweater to dress up the outfit making it church-worthy, but you couldn't tell it under her thigh-length winter coat. "Um, what are you saying?" She asked carefully.
"Just..." Mark measured his words, he too had been in a toxic relationship and if it wasn't for his need to move because of a job he probably would still be, "try to find a life outside of Nick. I'm not telling you guys to break up, but you need to realize that if you do, it's not the end of the world."
"Oh," Kaylin repeated making a face as if she just smelled something awful. "Well, thanks," she looked him in the eye and layered on the sweetness as she added, "thanks for stopping by."
"Well, there's more," Mark began as he moved to the trunk of his car, "Nick sent this for you," he lifted a large brown paper bag covered in doodles and stapled closed. "Happy Turkey Day, I guess," he laughed.
Kaylin took the present and smiled, "Thanks," she laughed too.
"If all goes well," Mark said folding himself into the drivers' seat of his car, "it's looking like he'll be home by Christmas. So keep your fingers crossed. If I hear anything else I'll let you know," he shut the door but rolled down the window.
Kaylin hugged the bag to her chest, "Same here," she offered and waved him goodbye as he pulled out of his spot along the curb and drove away.
Once inside, Kaylin rushed upstairs to be alone with her gift. She sat on her unmade bed and curled her legs under her. She examined the pen and ink drawings covering the brown paper: he had drawn out their names, intersecting them at the 'i,' there were the logos of their favorite bands, and of course the obligatory hearts and love messages. The top of the bag was folded over twice and stapled awkwardly shut, making the whole present look like an old lunch bag. She was careful to pull open the top, popping each staple's grip. Inside was one of his sweatshirts, a big over-sized green thing that would look like a tent on her petite frame. The shirt was wrapped around something and she unfolded it to reveal a perfectly molded mask of Nick's face. Her eyes filled with tears as her fingers traced the curves of his eyes, his nose, his mouth. She put the mask up to her face and tried to imagine Nick doing the same. She set the mask on the pillow next to her knee and pulled on the sweatshirt. She looked again into the bag and found a carefully folded piece of yellow paper with her name on it.
She laid back on the bed, put the mask on her stomach and read:
"Dear Kay,
Hey babe, what's up? Same old shit here. Meetings, therapy, bad food, same as always. They told me that I'll be home for Christmas, as long as I don't fuck up. We've got chores and a schedule to follow and I've been so careful to do everything they tell me. I miss you so much. I know I tell you that all the time, but I never want you to forget it. I never want you to forget that every minute of every day I'm thinking of you and wanting to be home with you again. I sit through the meetings, the therapy, the programs, and I think of you and pray to God that I haven't destroyed the only thing in my life that has ever really mattered. A lot of the people here think I'm too young to be in real love, but I don't care what they think. This is love. I've had other girlfriends, and I know that this is different. I know what we have is better. We may be young and I may be fucked up, but I can see myself with you for the rest of my life.
How's school going? Tell Stephen that I'll be home in time for training for baseball and tell Alicia to take good care of you while I'm gone. Only a few more weeks.
I love you.
Nick
PS Hope you like the presents. They're as close to my being with you as I could get"
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Part Two: Chapter Eleven
Stephen was told to wait in the lobby while a short, bald officer walked Kaylin back through the maze of cubicles to the one where Corporal Jordan was seated. He stood when Kaylin came into view and motioned for her to take one of the two seats opposite his small desk.
“I’ve got it from here, Bob, thanks,” Jordan told the officer escort who smiled down at the seated Kaylin before making his way back to the main lobby. Corporal Jordan smiled at the girl sitting before him, now much more a woman than when they first met a little shy of four years ago when a road weary Jordan had to deliver the news to a young girl that her mother wasn’t coming home. Since that dreary morning Kaylin had grown taller, her hair had gotten longer, and her features had blossomed into a woman’s rather than a girl’s. Although she looked different today than she had that morning, the look on her face was the same: fear, panic, and worry. Again the gruff, 6’4” seasoned officer was taken in by the girl and a feeling of protectiveness came over him.
“How have you been, Kay?” he asked, pushing aside his computer’s keyboard and leaning across the top of his desk.
Kaylin tried to smile, but couldn’t stop her chin from shaking. She quickly looked down at her hands and took in a measured breath to calm herself. She nodded a bit and said quietly, “I’m OK.”
“Good, good,” Jordan said absently standing up and coming around to where Kaylin sat. “C’mon, let’s take a walk,” he said offering Kaylin his hand. She took it and stood up, following him. Jordan was not part of the team that searched the lockers that day, nor had he been assigned to the case; however, upon his arrest Nick refused to say much more than he wanted to talk to Kaylin McSandsen. The arresting officer recognized the name and sent word to Jordan that the girl he had been keeping tabs on the last few years was involved.
Corporal Jordan led Kaylin to the sheriff’s lounge and got her a coke from the vending machine. They sat across from each other in the empty lounge at one of the faux wood tables. Kaylin mumbled a thank you when offered the drink, but kept her eyes down and her shoulders slumped.
“You know about what happened at school earlier?” Jordan asked. Kaylin nodded her head.
“Want to talk about it?” he offered, but Kaylin shook her head.
“Why did you call me?” she asked after gathering up her courage to look the corporal in the eye. She was surprised by what she saw there: sympathy, compassion, worry. She was expecting a cop like on TV, angry and scheming how to get her to reveal information about Nick’s situation.
Jordan leaned back in his seat. “How do you know Nick Ainsworth?” he said in his best cop voice.
“He’s my boyfriend,” she replied quickly, “why?”
“How long have you guys been dating?”
“Since July, why?” she asked again.
Jordan sighed; he was more worried about having to deliver bad news again to this precious girl than he was getting information about the arrested.
“He’s been put on suicide watch,” Jordan began, “I wasn’t there when they brought him in, but he’s in bad shape. He said he needed to talk to you. He even to his father he wouldn’t talk unless he talked to you first. So the search began to find you and that led to me…” he trailed off.
Kaylin nodded but was mute. Her eyes darted away from Corporal Jordan’s; her heart pulled itself into her throat and prevented her from saying anything, from even breathing. Nick was everything to her, he was what protected her from the loneliness that was her life. Nick was her life; without him she would still be the same plain Kaylin that the kids in her classes ignored, whose father ignored her crying, whose world ignored her existence. Nick loved her, and made people pay attention to her; he showed her that she was worth being seen.
“I’m going to sit over here, OK, Kaylin?” Corporal Jordan had stood up and moved to a table at the corner of the room, near the door. At that moment Bob, the officer that had escorted Kaylin, came into the lounge holding the arm of a prisoner whose hands were cuffed in front of him.
“Nick!” Kaylin jumped up, and Bob release his grip on Nick’s arm and went to sit with Jordan. Nick lifted his arms up and Kaylin dipped under them to embrace him. Nick burrowed his head in her shoulder; she could feel him weeping: his chest heaving and his breath hot.
“Kay, baby, oh my God. Kay, I’m so sorry baby, hon,” he was rambling. Kay pulled her body away from his and cupped his face in her hands, shaking her head for him to stop.
“Sweetie, sssh, calm down, I’m here,” she hugged him again. They stood like that for a long time, both of them openly crying.
Kaylin moved his hands over her head, and they sat next to each other on one of benches attached to a table.
“Kaylin, I swear, I’m so sorry. If I loose you,” he choked up and pressed his cheek to hers. “Kaylin, things got so out of control. I don’t know what to do. Please don’t leave me, please.”
Kaylin pressed her hand against the other side of his face and breathed deeply. “I’m not leaving you,” she promised, “but why didn’t you tell me any of this? Nick, what else are you hiding?” He pulled himself away from her and looked her in the eyes.
“Nothing, baby, nothing. I was just getting so tired during the day, and so I…”
Kaylin put her finger to his lips and rested her forehead on his. She recognized hysteria when she saw it, and she needed to calm him down.
“What now?” she wrapped her hands around his that were bound together.
“I got a lawyer. We talked about rehab. I need help baby, but I, I didn’t want to agree to anything. God, Kaylin. I know I let you down, I know, but I love you, I love you so much. And if you, if you didn’t love me anymore, I would understand, but I didn’t want to live. I can’t live without you.”
“We can talk about this later.”
He smiled, a weak, hysterical smile, filled with happiness that there would be a later. His heart was pounding and he was shaking. “OK, OK, later.”
Corporal Jordan allowed the two to talk a few minutes more before indicating that their time was up. Nick kissed Kaylin long and hard before being led away. Once the door clicked shut, Kaylin turned and hugged Corporal Jordan; her head barely reaching his name tag she leaned into him and cried tears of thanks for allowing her to see him, and tears of sadness at the unknown.
“It’s going to be OK. We’ll get him help, he’s a young guy, there’s still a future for him,” the large man smiled down at her and awkwardly patted her hair.
“What do I do now?” she pulled away to pick up a napkin and wipe her face.
“Well, for now you need to keep going to school, doing your thing, and keep yourself happy and healthy,” Corporal Jordan said, “I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“I’ve got it from here, Bob, thanks,” Jordan told the officer escort who smiled down at the seated Kaylin before making his way back to the main lobby. Corporal Jordan smiled at the girl sitting before him, now much more a woman than when they first met a little shy of four years ago when a road weary Jordan had to deliver the news to a young girl that her mother wasn’t coming home. Since that dreary morning Kaylin had grown taller, her hair had gotten longer, and her features had blossomed into a woman’s rather than a girl’s. Although she looked different today than she had that morning, the look on her face was the same: fear, panic, and worry. Again the gruff, 6’4” seasoned officer was taken in by the girl and a feeling of protectiveness came over him.
“How have you been, Kay?” he asked, pushing aside his computer’s keyboard and leaning across the top of his desk.
Kaylin tried to smile, but couldn’t stop her chin from shaking. She quickly looked down at her hands and took in a measured breath to calm herself. She nodded a bit and said quietly, “I’m OK.”
“Good, good,” Jordan said absently standing up and coming around to where Kaylin sat. “C’mon, let’s take a walk,” he said offering Kaylin his hand. She took it and stood up, following him. Jordan was not part of the team that searched the lockers that day, nor had he been assigned to the case; however, upon his arrest Nick refused to say much more than he wanted to talk to Kaylin McSandsen. The arresting officer recognized the name and sent word to Jordan that the girl he had been keeping tabs on the last few years was involved.
Corporal Jordan led Kaylin to the sheriff’s lounge and got her a coke from the vending machine. They sat across from each other in the empty lounge at one of the faux wood tables. Kaylin mumbled a thank you when offered the drink, but kept her eyes down and her shoulders slumped.
“You know about what happened at school earlier?” Jordan asked. Kaylin nodded her head.
“Want to talk about it?” he offered, but Kaylin shook her head.
“Why did you call me?” she asked after gathering up her courage to look the corporal in the eye. She was surprised by what she saw there: sympathy, compassion, worry. She was expecting a cop like on TV, angry and scheming how to get her to reveal information about Nick’s situation.
Jordan leaned back in his seat. “How do you know Nick Ainsworth?” he said in his best cop voice.
“He’s my boyfriend,” she replied quickly, “why?”
“How long have you guys been dating?”
“Since July, why?” she asked again.
Jordan sighed; he was more worried about having to deliver bad news again to this precious girl than he was getting information about the arrested.
“He’s been put on suicide watch,” Jordan began, “I wasn’t there when they brought him in, but he’s in bad shape. He said he needed to talk to you. He even to his father he wouldn’t talk unless he talked to you first. So the search began to find you and that led to me…” he trailed off.
Kaylin nodded but was mute. Her eyes darted away from Corporal Jordan’s; her heart pulled itself into her throat and prevented her from saying anything, from even breathing. Nick was everything to her, he was what protected her from the loneliness that was her life. Nick was her life; without him she would still be the same plain Kaylin that the kids in her classes ignored, whose father ignored her crying, whose world ignored her existence. Nick loved her, and made people pay attention to her; he showed her that she was worth being seen.
“I’m going to sit over here, OK, Kaylin?” Corporal Jordan had stood up and moved to a table at the corner of the room, near the door. At that moment Bob, the officer that had escorted Kaylin, came into the lounge holding the arm of a prisoner whose hands were cuffed in front of him.
“Nick!” Kaylin jumped up, and Bob release his grip on Nick’s arm and went to sit with Jordan. Nick lifted his arms up and Kaylin dipped under them to embrace him. Nick burrowed his head in her shoulder; she could feel him weeping: his chest heaving and his breath hot.
“Kay, baby, oh my God. Kay, I’m so sorry baby, hon,” he was rambling. Kay pulled her body away from his and cupped his face in her hands, shaking her head for him to stop.
“Sweetie, sssh, calm down, I’m here,” she hugged him again. They stood like that for a long time, both of them openly crying.
Kaylin moved his hands over her head, and they sat next to each other on one of benches attached to a table.
“Kaylin, I swear, I’m so sorry. If I loose you,” he choked up and pressed his cheek to hers. “Kaylin, things got so out of control. I don’t know what to do. Please don’t leave me, please.”
Kaylin pressed her hand against the other side of his face and breathed deeply. “I’m not leaving you,” she promised, “but why didn’t you tell me any of this? Nick, what else are you hiding?” He pulled himself away from her and looked her in the eyes.
“Nothing, baby, nothing. I was just getting so tired during the day, and so I…”
Kaylin put her finger to his lips and rested her forehead on his. She recognized hysteria when she saw it, and she needed to calm him down.
“What now?” she wrapped her hands around his that were bound together.
“I got a lawyer. We talked about rehab. I need help baby, but I, I didn’t want to agree to anything. God, Kaylin. I know I let you down, I know, but I love you, I love you so much. And if you, if you didn’t love me anymore, I would understand, but I didn’t want to live. I can’t live without you.”
“We can talk about this later.”
He smiled, a weak, hysterical smile, filled with happiness that there would be a later. His heart was pounding and he was shaking. “OK, OK, later.”
Corporal Jordan allowed the two to talk a few minutes more before indicating that their time was up. Nick kissed Kaylin long and hard before being led away. Once the door clicked shut, Kaylin turned and hugged Corporal Jordan; her head barely reaching his name tag she leaned into him and cried tears of thanks for allowing her to see him, and tears of sadness at the unknown.
“It’s going to be OK. We’ll get him help, he’s a young guy, there’s still a future for him,” the large man smiled down at her and awkwardly patted her hair.
“What do I do now?” she pulled away to pick up a napkin and wipe her face.
“Well, for now you need to keep going to school, doing your thing, and keep yourself happy and healthy,” Corporal Jordan said, “I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
Monday, May 25, 2009
Part Two: Chapter Ten
Stephen talked while he drove. The police had found a few grams of cocaine in Nick's jacket in his locker; he was arrested immediately. Stephen had class with Nick and saw everything happen. When the principal came in to get Nick, he looked over at Stephen and told him to get Kaylin immediately. She was his first thought: not being arrested, not getting in trouble at school, just Kaylin and what she would think and do.
Kaylin's head was spinning, and she was breathing hard. "This can't be happening. Seriously, Nick doesn't do coke. This is ridiculous." She was talking more to herself than to Stephen whose hands gripped the wheel as he sped up. "Stephen, you've got to be kidding me."
He rolled his head to look at her and gave her a look that made her know he was dead serious. "Kay, you honestly think he doesn't do coke? Really?" he had a doubting tone to his voice. Nick liked to have a good time, and although Stephen had never seen Nick put the straw to his nose, he could definitely picture him doing it. Kaylin was staring out the windshield blankly, her mind too full to process everything it needed to take in; it was like staring into a deep lake and trying to see to the bottom but the motion of the waves, the darkness of the water, the need to blink kept preventing it.
"What do we do now?" was all she could manage to say. Stephen pulled his battered car into her drive and turned to look at her. Her hands were clenching and unclenching the blue fabric of her book bag, her long hair was wind-blown in front of her face, but she didn't bother to brush it away.
"I'm not sure," Stephen began, "but I told him I would get you. Let's go inside and I'll make some calls, see if I can find out anything, OK?" He started to get out the door.
"You're coming in my house?" Kaylin said, slamming the car door, she couldn't remember the last time Stephen Rizzman had been in her house. It must have been when her mother was still alive, because she remembered that she got in trouble for having Alicia and her brother over without asking first. Her mother was known to lock herself in her bedroom for hours, sometimes days, on end.
"Is that OK?" Stephen stopped in his walk to the door.
"Yeah, sure. I just, well," Kaylin smiled in spite of herself, "I was just thinking it's been awhile." Stephen smiled too. Kaylin was just another one of his sisters, she spent the night so much at his house that sometimes he forgot she had another home.
They went inside, and judging from the quiet, no one was home. There was a note on the pad of paper Seanahair kept on the end table next to his armchair that said he had gone to confession and then was going to the VFW for a dinner. Stephen put his book bag on the floor by the door and covered it with his jacket before finding Kaylin in the living room reading the note.
"Everything all right?" he asked, fishing his beeper out of his jeans and checking the display.
"Yeah, my grandfather is gone and my dad's still at work," Kaylin said, setting the paper down. "I'm going upstairs to change, I'll be right back."
"No problem, can I use the phone?" Stephen asked reaching for the cordless. Kaylin nodded her head and dashed up the stairs.
Before she had even entered the doorway, she saw the red light on her machine blinking away. Her small room was dark, and the phone and little machine sat on a small table by her bed. She rushed in and pressed the play button.
"Kay, babe," it was Nick, "I'm OK, don't worry. I'll get this take care of. Please don't be upset, please don't be mad at me. I love you. I'll call you again when I can. Oh my God, Kay, I love you, please don't be mad. OK, I love you, bye." Kaylin was kneeling by the table, holding the answering machine like it was Nick himself.
"STEPHEN!!! STEVE!!!" Kaylin hollered over her shoulder before she heard the next beep.
"Hello, this message is for Kaylin McSandsen. This is Corporal Jordan of the Greenbrier County Sheriff's department. I'm going to need you to stop by the police station when you get this message. If you need a ride, or can't come tonight give me a call back at" the message cut off. Kay shifted around, and sat on her legs; Stephen standing in her doorway, he had heard the whole thing.
"What should I do?" Kay's eyes welled with tears as she looked to Stephen for an answer. Her chin started to shake as she tried to hold back crying. It was all too much.
"C'mere, girl," Stephen went over to her and pulled her up and into his arms for a hug. "It's going to be OK. Listen, we need to head over there though. I called Alicia and she said that that Jordan guy called over there looking for you, too. C'mon," he started to walk with her to the hall. By the time they had walked down the stairs and were in the foyer, Kaylin had gathered herself together, and had pulled away from Stephen's encouraging arm. She looked at herself in the mirror, and wiped a hand across her face to remove the tear streaks.
"Let's go," she said, turning to the door.
Kaylin's head was spinning, and she was breathing hard. "This can't be happening. Seriously, Nick doesn't do coke. This is ridiculous." She was talking more to herself than to Stephen whose hands gripped the wheel as he sped up. "Stephen, you've got to be kidding me."
He rolled his head to look at her and gave her a look that made her know he was dead serious. "Kay, you honestly think he doesn't do coke? Really?" he had a doubting tone to his voice. Nick liked to have a good time, and although Stephen had never seen Nick put the straw to his nose, he could definitely picture him doing it. Kaylin was staring out the windshield blankly, her mind too full to process everything it needed to take in; it was like staring into a deep lake and trying to see to the bottom but the motion of the waves, the darkness of the water, the need to blink kept preventing it.
"What do we do now?" was all she could manage to say. Stephen pulled his battered car into her drive and turned to look at her. Her hands were clenching and unclenching the blue fabric of her book bag, her long hair was wind-blown in front of her face, but she didn't bother to brush it away.
"I'm not sure," Stephen began, "but I told him I would get you. Let's go inside and I'll make some calls, see if I can find out anything, OK?" He started to get out the door.
"You're coming in my house?" Kaylin said, slamming the car door, she couldn't remember the last time Stephen Rizzman had been in her house. It must have been when her mother was still alive, because she remembered that she got in trouble for having Alicia and her brother over without asking first. Her mother was known to lock herself in her bedroom for hours, sometimes days, on end.
"Is that OK?" Stephen stopped in his walk to the door.
"Yeah, sure. I just, well," Kaylin smiled in spite of herself, "I was just thinking it's been awhile." Stephen smiled too. Kaylin was just another one of his sisters, she spent the night so much at his house that sometimes he forgot she had another home.
They went inside, and judging from the quiet, no one was home. There was a note on the pad of paper Seanahair kept on the end table next to his armchair that said he had gone to confession and then was going to the VFW for a dinner. Stephen put his book bag on the floor by the door and covered it with his jacket before finding Kaylin in the living room reading the note.
"Everything all right?" he asked, fishing his beeper out of his jeans and checking the display.
"Yeah, my grandfather is gone and my dad's still at work," Kaylin said, setting the paper down. "I'm going upstairs to change, I'll be right back."
"No problem, can I use the phone?" Stephen asked reaching for the cordless. Kaylin nodded her head and dashed up the stairs.
Before she had even entered the doorway, she saw the red light on her machine blinking away. Her small room was dark, and the phone and little machine sat on a small table by her bed. She rushed in and pressed the play button.
"Kay, babe," it was Nick, "I'm OK, don't worry. I'll get this take care of. Please don't be upset, please don't be mad at me. I love you. I'll call you again when I can. Oh my God, Kay, I love you, please don't be mad. OK, I love you, bye." Kaylin was kneeling by the table, holding the answering machine like it was Nick himself.
"STEPHEN!!! STEVE!!!" Kaylin hollered over her shoulder before she heard the next beep.
"Hello, this message is for Kaylin McSandsen. This is Corporal Jordan of the Greenbrier County Sheriff's department. I'm going to need you to stop by the police station when you get this message. If you need a ride, or can't come tonight give me a call back at" the message cut off. Kay shifted around, and sat on her legs; Stephen standing in her doorway, he had heard the whole thing.
"What should I do?" Kay's eyes welled with tears as she looked to Stephen for an answer. Her chin started to shake as she tried to hold back crying. It was all too much.
"C'mere, girl," Stephen went over to her and pulled her up and into his arms for a hug. "It's going to be OK. Listen, we need to head over there though. I called Alicia and she said that that Jordan guy called over there looking for you, too. C'mon," he started to walk with her to the hall. By the time they had walked down the stairs and were in the foyer, Kaylin had gathered herself together, and had pulled away from Stephen's encouraging arm. She looked at herself in the mirror, and wiped a hand across her face to remove the tear streaks.
"Let's go," she said, turning to the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive to the county sheriff's department was a long one, but Stephen made quick work of it. Kaylin spent the ride letting her eyes drift over the blur of scenery as it passed. Her mind was taking in the reality of what had happened. She loved Nick with everything that she was. Never in her life had anyone treated her like she was something important, something other than ordinary. Her mother's love and affection was the moon: waxing and waning regularly, and her father was sun: distant and harsh, and able to burn if you didn't protect yourself. Seanahair had tried, God love him, in his own way to let her know he cared, but he was older, and his ideas of parental love came from a world that she would only read about.
But Nick, this gorgeous boy that the fates had put in her life; Nick spent everyday telling her how much he loved her, how he adored her. He was the bright light that she clung to in the darkness that was her world. Without ever asking for anything, he settled in her life like a fixture that was and always would be there. He helped her on seanahair's bad days, he brought her to parties where only the beautiful people went and made sure she saw that his eyes never left her. He would wait outside her window if he heard her father screaming while they were on the phone.
Her mind went to the nights they spent together, entwined in each other's embrace. There were nights he would lay beside her, content to just hold her in his arms rather than feel her under him. But of course she had given herself to him, and that first time without having to be told, his touch was gentle and caressing, his movements slow and paced. Every time since he acted like he had never seen her naked before, and was astonished at the beauty of every inch of her. His soft murmurings after made her relax into a peaceful bliss that she never knew existed. Remembering those private times was like embracing herself in Nick now that she felt alone and scared.
Stephen slowed the car down as they approached the stretch of highway that would lead them to the sheriff's department. "Kay," he said measuring his words, "if they tell you it's true, that he did have coke on him," he looked over to her, she hadn't shifted her gaze from the window and, except for her close proximity, he wasn't even sure she was hearing him, "if it's true they probably want to question you and what you knew about it. I'm not going to tell you to lie, Kay, but you need to be prepared for whatever they might ask you, you know? Remember, don't believe anything they tell you, it's like on TV, they'll say anything to get you to talk." He looked over to her again, she had bit her bottom lip and looked down, tears spilling from her eyes. "You understand what I'm sayin' right?" He reached over and put his hand on her knee, shaking it a bit. She nodded, and wiped her eyes again.
"I have no idea what's about to happen," Stephen mumbled, the feelings of someone he cared for hurting and not being able to help her rattled him. Stephen Rizzman had known Kaylin since she was a toddler running around his living room with Alicia while his mother looked on. She was as much a sister to him as his blood kin, and now he was more worried about the way she was acting than whatever trouble Nick was in. Kaylin McSandsen was always level headed and calm, but the girl who sat beside him now was a barely a shadow of that; she was shaking and crying, and there was panic in her voice.
They both stepped out of the now parked car, and Kaylin paused gathering her thoughts, looking at the squat brick building and readying herself for whatever was about to happen. The wind had a chill that warned of frost that night, and a feeling of loss tied itself to her stomach again.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Part Two: Chapter Nine
As time went on, Kaylin's life took a drastic shift. The plant had closed, and her father had been asked to stay on to 'close up shop.' In a move praised by every person in the community, Aaron declined the offer and chose instead to leave with his coworkers. The community banded together when things like repo men started to descend upon them to collect cars and families left the area in droves, leaving quite a few of the homes vacant and subject to vandalism.
Kaylin and Nick returned to school, and Kaylin was introduced to the teenage nightlife of Riversedge. There were parties after football games, all night 'keggers' at the homes of kids whose parents were away, and even throngs of teenagers crowded into the abandoned warehouse for dancing and booze. Alicia was thrilled that Kaylin had abandoned her days of being leary to go out and made her shimmy into her party clothes and makeup. Suddenly Kaylin McSandsen was more than just the girl in class, she was Nick Ainsworth's girlfriend, and she was gorgeous.
Nick enjoyed the parties, maybe a little too much. He would drink and smoke whatever was available, from whomever offered it. There were early mornings when Kaylin sat with him as he threw up in bushes, or reeled from too much of something. But he would always show is devotion to her. Their relationship had none of the high school dramatics of he said, she said. They eased into each other's lives as if they had always been there.
The scar behind Kaylin's ear was the only memory that lingered of that first night together. Aaron, although considerably more sober, went back to being distant and gone most of the time. Francis' condition remained, his hacking and aches growing more persistant each day. But winter was coming with its cold, long nights and constant reminders of the night her mother died, and the day they put her in the ground.
Over the months, Kaylin became aware of a truth she tried to ignore: Nick had a problem. His moods were not stable and his reactions uncertain. She loved him; the way he made her feel beautiful with only a look, the feeling of protection she was overwhelmed with whenever he was near. But even Alicia had begun to worry that Nick's drug use was more than just recreational. Kay kept to herself the baggie of random pills she found in his jacket pocket one night when she got cold in French class, but Alicia couldn't keep silent when rumors began to fill the school halls that quiet Kaylin that everyone had known their entire lives was dating a coke head.
Kaylin and Nick returned to school, and Kaylin was introduced to the teenage nightlife of Riversedge. There were parties after football games, all night 'keggers' at the homes of kids whose parents were away, and even throngs of teenagers crowded into the abandoned warehouse for dancing and booze. Alicia was thrilled that Kaylin had abandoned her days of being leary to go out and made her shimmy into her party clothes and makeup. Suddenly Kaylin McSandsen was more than just the girl in class, she was Nick Ainsworth's girlfriend, and she was gorgeous.
Nick enjoyed the parties, maybe a little too much. He would drink and smoke whatever was available, from whomever offered it. There were early mornings when Kaylin sat with him as he threw up in bushes, or reeled from too much of something. But he would always show is devotion to her. Their relationship had none of the high school dramatics of he said, she said. They eased into each other's lives as if they had always been there.
The scar behind Kaylin's ear was the only memory that lingered of that first night together. Aaron, although considerably more sober, went back to being distant and gone most of the time. Francis' condition remained, his hacking and aches growing more persistant each day. But winter was coming with its cold, long nights and constant reminders of the night her mother died, and the day they put her in the ground.
Over the months, Kaylin became aware of a truth she tried to ignore: Nick had a problem. His moods were not stable and his reactions uncertain. She loved him; the way he made her feel beautiful with only a look, the feeling of protection she was overwhelmed with whenever he was near. But even Alicia had begun to worry that Nick's drug use was more than just recreational. Kay kept to herself the baggie of random pills she found in his jacket pocket one night when she got cold in French class, but Alicia couldn't keep silent when rumors began to fill the school halls that quiet Kaylin that everyone had known their entire lives was dating a coke head.
Part Two: Chapter Eight
The world changed forever that night. In the harsh light of the next afternoon, the local papers held the headlines that the factory was closing. Nick's father had been in Columbus trying to prevent it, and Kaylin's father had been drinking trying to deny it.
Nick stayed with Kaylin all day at her house helping her clean and care for Francis whose wheezing was getting progressively worse. Kaylin found she couldn't hide the black, mucous from Nick's eyes, but he never complained. Francis brushed his fingers along the bruise on Kaylin's face and turned her head to look at the scabbed over gash behind her ear. No one said a word, but Francis moved his eyes to Nick whose eyes held the anger of the previous night, and he understood. Francis knew his son's faults and had heard the argument, heard the sound of his granddaughter being hit, but his belief not to intervene held him at bay. It wasn't until he saw the damage to her face, saw the heat in this boy's face, that he realized something had to be done. Francis smiled at Nick, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder as he walked by.
This day, nestled in the house was like a bubble, shutting out the reality of the outside world. They all knew that eventually Aaron would come home, the truth of the factory closing would hit both their households, the summer would come to a close, but for this one day, they acted like a family, the dying old man, the bruised girl, and the boy who loved her.
As the day wore on, Francis napped, and Kaylin took Nick upstairs. She could hear the old man's breathing machine click and beep, so she knew he was sound asleep. It was then that Kaylin showed Nick how much she loved him, and with stifled pleasure they gave themselves to each other for the first time.
"Dad," Aaron said, seeing the old man approach from the kitchen, "everything OK?" Francis, never one to speak much, took his grown son's arm and led him outside out of earshot of the two teenagers preparing dinner only a few feet away.
The dinner was a quiet one, with Francis' coughing the only sound to be heard other than the familiar clinking of the dinner wear. Francis and Aaron had been gone a long time, and when Francis returned, he took his seat in silence. Nick and Kaylin had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for their return and took this as a sign to start dinner. Francis was seventy and every bit the gruff stereotype of a former coal miner, he spoke very little and his few actions were measured and part of a strict routine: it was no use asking him about his conversation. As the table was arranged, Aaron came in and joined them, looking humbled and getting a glass of whiskey from the cabinet. He seated himself not at the head of the table, but across from Nick who sat next to Kaylin along the wall.
The hailstorm that they expected from Aaron never came; his thoughts were elsewhere. His father had chided him like when he was younger and minced no words telling him that he was earning the respect of his friends, but loosing the respect of his family and his God. Aaron's mind was aching from his inevitable job loss, his intervention with his father, and the pain in his daughter's eyes whenever she looked at him. At some point she had become a woman. She had gone from a chubby little girl with ringlets who always hugged him when he came home, no matter how late, no matter what he must have smelled like (grease, booze, smoke), to a woman with all the attributes he had once loved in her mother. At thirty-six, his life had slipped away from him before he had a chance to realize it. He stared at the glass of whiskey he sipped from and then looked to the boy seated across from him who was chewing slowly, taking in the man.
Without a word, Aaron finished his dinner, stood up and went to his room.
Nick stayed with Kaylin all day at her house helping her clean and care for Francis whose wheezing was getting progressively worse. Kaylin found she couldn't hide the black, mucous from Nick's eyes, but he never complained. Francis brushed his fingers along the bruise on Kaylin's face and turned her head to look at the scabbed over gash behind her ear. No one said a word, but Francis moved his eyes to Nick whose eyes held the anger of the previous night, and he understood. Francis knew his son's faults and had heard the argument, heard the sound of his granddaughter being hit, but his belief not to intervene held him at bay. It wasn't until he saw the damage to her face, saw the heat in this boy's face, that he realized something had to be done. Francis smiled at Nick, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder as he walked by.
This day, nestled in the house was like a bubble, shutting out the reality of the outside world. They all knew that eventually Aaron would come home, the truth of the factory closing would hit both their households, the summer would come to a close, but for this one day, they acted like a family, the dying old man, the bruised girl, and the boy who loved her.
As the day wore on, Francis napped, and Kaylin took Nick upstairs. She could hear the old man's breathing machine click and beep, so she knew he was sound asleep. It was then that Kaylin showed Nick how much she loved him, and with stifled pleasure they gave themselves to each other for the first time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kaylin was browning meat for Hamburger Helper, and Nick sat at the table playing Gin with Francis when the screen door was heard. They all looked around, and Francis started for the foyer, waving Kaylin and Nick to remain. "Dad," Aaron said, seeing the old man approach from the kitchen, "everything OK?" Francis, never one to speak much, took his grown son's arm and led him outside out of earshot of the two teenagers preparing dinner only a few feet away.
The dinner was a quiet one, with Francis' coughing the only sound to be heard other than the familiar clinking of the dinner wear. Francis and Aaron had been gone a long time, and when Francis returned, he took his seat in silence. Nick and Kaylin had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for their return and took this as a sign to start dinner. Francis was seventy and every bit the gruff stereotype of a former coal miner, he spoke very little and his few actions were measured and part of a strict routine: it was no use asking him about his conversation. As the table was arranged, Aaron came in and joined them, looking humbled and getting a glass of whiskey from the cabinet. He seated himself not at the head of the table, but across from Nick who sat next to Kaylin along the wall.
The hailstorm that they expected from Aaron never came; his thoughts were elsewhere. His father had chided him like when he was younger and minced no words telling him that he was earning the respect of his friends, but loosing the respect of his family and his God. Aaron's mind was aching from his inevitable job loss, his intervention with his father, and the pain in his daughter's eyes whenever she looked at him. At some point she had become a woman. She had gone from a chubby little girl with ringlets who always hugged him when he came home, no matter how late, no matter what he must have smelled like (grease, booze, smoke), to a woman with all the attributes he had once loved in her mother. At thirty-six, his life had slipped away from him before he had a chance to realize it. He stared at the glass of whiskey he sipped from and then looked to the boy seated across from him who was chewing slowly, taking in the man.
Without a word, Aaron finished his dinner, stood up and went to his room.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Part Two: Chapter Seven
Morning came and immediately Kaylin knew there was something wrong. Nick was out of bed and aggitated, he had a nervous energy about him. She began to panic that he was afraid that he regretted his actions of that night. While he flitted about his room, Kaylin quietly straightened herself and tried to slink out his door.
"Kay, where are you going?" Nick was alarmed that she was up and her first thought was to leave. He smile quickly and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I thought I'd go home now, you've done enough and I don't want to overstay," she looked down and bit her lip, her hands were tugging at her shirt absent-mindedly.
"Oh Kaylin," Nick said, suddenly aware of how she was feeling. He pulled her to him and hugged her hard and sat with her on his bed. "Babe, I know what you're thinking and stop it. It's just," he looked over her head, but his arm remained around her shoulders before finally letting out a large breath of air and leaning forward, "It's not what you're thinking, God, it's anything but that. It's that I take these pills, to help me sleep and I didn't have any last night, but I didn't want to leave you for a minute, so my body is just reacting."
"Oh," she wasn't expecting to hear that.
"Listen, why don't you get a shower? My dad's away until Thursday, so we're pretty much alone. Get yourself cleaned up and I'll get something for this," he showed Kaylin his shaking hand.
"Are you sure? I can just go home," she began.
"No. I'm sure there are going to consequences for my actions, and we're going to face them together." His self-confidence was waining in light of his situation, so Kaylin agreed a shower would be a good idea. He gave her a towel and one of his shirts to wear, and promised to be good, but added a sly, "this time" and wagged his eyebrows.
It was evident from the state of the bathroom that only men lived here. It wasn't messy so much as just not clean. She turned the water on as hot as she could take it and let the water wash away her feelings of lonliness and worry. She was determined that she would get through what happened, her father might not even remember it. The water stung when it rained down on where she had been cut, and getting the knots out of her hair with only 2 in 1 shampoo & conditioner was a nightmare, but the soap smelled like Nick and she scrubbed her entire body with it, drinking in the scent.
She came back to his room, and he was spread out on his bed obviously much more relaxed. A quick glance at the clock told her she had only been away twenty minutes. "Nick? Everything OK?" she said, "How did you get to a drug store that fast?"
"Ah," Nick sat up, avoiding her eyes. He thought she had understood when he told her he needed something to calm down, he wasn't expecting her to think it was a prescription. He looked to his dresser where bottles of pills of all kinds were stashed. He looked up to where she stood before him: hair loose and wet around her face and down her shoulders, his tee shirt hanging damp around her body, and her eyes questioning and so naive. "I found some," was all he could say, not ready to lie to her, but not ready to tell her everything, yet. He justified his statement by thinking that soon she would know everything about him, he was willing to share everything with her, but he didn't want to burden her anymore today.
"Listen, babe, it's still early. Let's sleep somemore and then we'll deal with your dad when we're both more well rested," he pulled her hands to him and hugged her, his head resting on her stomach. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I do love you, and sleeping with you next to me was how I wish every night could be. I know we've only been dating a few weeks, but I really feel this babe." He was looking up to her, his eyes pleading with her. She was running her fingers through his hair and taking in every word he was saying. They were young, true, but she couldn't deny that she loved him, too.
They crawled back into bed and she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder as he lay on his back. "Nick," she said, "I love you, too."
"Kay, where are you going?" Nick was alarmed that she was up and her first thought was to leave. He smile quickly and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I thought I'd go home now, you've done enough and I don't want to overstay," she looked down and bit her lip, her hands were tugging at her shirt absent-mindedly.
"Oh Kaylin," Nick said, suddenly aware of how she was feeling. He pulled her to him and hugged her hard and sat with her on his bed. "Babe, I know what you're thinking and stop it. It's just," he looked over her head, but his arm remained around her shoulders before finally letting out a large breath of air and leaning forward, "It's not what you're thinking, God, it's anything but that. It's that I take these pills, to help me sleep and I didn't have any last night, but I didn't want to leave you for a minute, so my body is just reacting."
"Oh," she wasn't expecting to hear that.
"Listen, why don't you get a shower? My dad's away until Thursday, so we're pretty much alone. Get yourself cleaned up and I'll get something for this," he showed Kaylin his shaking hand.
"Are you sure? I can just go home," she began.
"No. I'm sure there are going to consequences for my actions, and we're going to face them together." His self-confidence was waining in light of his situation, so Kaylin agreed a shower would be a good idea. He gave her a towel and one of his shirts to wear, and promised to be good, but added a sly, "this time" and wagged his eyebrows.
It was evident from the state of the bathroom that only men lived here. It wasn't messy so much as just not clean. She turned the water on as hot as she could take it and let the water wash away her feelings of lonliness and worry. She was determined that she would get through what happened, her father might not even remember it. The water stung when it rained down on where she had been cut, and getting the knots out of her hair with only 2 in 1 shampoo & conditioner was a nightmare, but the soap smelled like Nick and she scrubbed her entire body with it, drinking in the scent.
She came back to his room, and he was spread out on his bed obviously much more relaxed. A quick glance at the clock told her she had only been away twenty minutes. "Nick? Everything OK?" she said, "How did you get to a drug store that fast?"
"Ah," Nick sat up, avoiding her eyes. He thought she had understood when he told her he needed something to calm down, he wasn't expecting her to think it was a prescription. He looked to his dresser where bottles of pills of all kinds were stashed. He looked up to where she stood before him: hair loose and wet around her face and down her shoulders, his tee shirt hanging damp around her body, and her eyes questioning and so naive. "I found some," was all he could say, not ready to lie to her, but not ready to tell her everything, yet. He justified his statement by thinking that soon she would know everything about him, he was willing to share everything with her, but he didn't want to burden her anymore today.
"Listen, babe, it's still early. Let's sleep somemore and then we'll deal with your dad when we're both more well rested," he pulled her hands to him and hugged her, his head resting on her stomach. "I'm so sorry about earlier. I do love you, and sleeping with you next to me was how I wish every night could be. I know we've only been dating a few weeks, but I really feel this babe." He was looking up to her, his eyes pleading with her. She was running her fingers through his hair and taking in every word he was saying. They were young, true, but she couldn't deny that she loved him, too.
They crawled back into bed and she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder as he lay on his back. "Nick," she said, "I love you, too."
Part Two: Chapter Six
And that is how the rest of the summer went: Nick would come to Kaylin’s house daily, sometimes early enough to sit and play cards with Seanathair before the old man went to watch his nightly shows. Before leaving her at her door, Nick always told her that he loved her. He never said it too often, or at odd times, but nightly before he kissed her goodbye. Kaylin had given up arguing with him about it, instead she would smile and kiss him again, or just smile and walk away. He had told her he didn’t expect her to say it back yet, but she would in time; his self-confidence never wavering.
One night, a week before the first day of school, Nick sat with Kaylin on the stoop of her house talking about school, classes, and nothing in particular when a car veered to a stop in front of the house and her father staggered out. Nick had never met Aaron, and had only heard about him in snippets from either Kaylin or Stephen. The way the man walked and carried himself up the drive Nick knew immediately who it was.
“You,” Aaron began halfway up the asphalt driveway. It came as more of a growl than a word, “so you’re the boy Kaylin’s been…what do the kids call it these days?...”
“Dating,” Nick finished for him rising to his feet, “I’m the boy that is dating Kaylin.” Nick stood up, not sure what to do next, this was a tense situation, her father was obviously drunk.
“Really? In my day we just called it fucking,” Aaron retorted and continued his walk to the house.
“No, I wouldn’t call it that, sir,” Nick answered angrily.
“Hrmph,” was all Aaron said back. He was close now, and shoved Kaylin out of his way to get to the front door.
“Nice to meet you,” Nick tried pulling Kaylin up. “If it’s all right with you, we’ll be going.”
Aaron slowly turned around, his hand on the latch of the screen door. “Actually, it’s not all right with me. I don’t take lightly my daughter running all over hell’s half acre in the middle of the night with some kid. Is this what you do now, Kaylin? Is this what you do while I work? Who’s taking care of seanathair?” He grabbed her elbow and began to pull her inside.
Kaylin jerked her arm away. “Certainly not you,” she snapped. Aaron stared at her in disbelief for a fleeting moment before his eyes turned to stone. He dropped his hand to his side and in a quick motion threw it back up and backhanded her. She went reeling down the two steps and sat on the concrete, holding her face. Through eyes hazy with tears, Kaylin saw Nick grab her father’s arm and shove him against the aluminum screen door. Aaron pushed Nick back, turned to open the door and disappeared inside the house.
Without another word, Nick turned to help Kaylin to her feet. She pulled away from him when he went to hug her, but nodded at his suggestion to go to his house. They walked the few blocks to the only apartment building in Riversedge: a utilitarian style square of brick that faced a small courtyard that had seen better days. The apartments inside were pleasant, but the occupants were either single parents or retirees. Nick’s home life was the former: Nick’s father worked for the union and relocated to Ohio after he and Nick’s mother divorced.
Not a word was spoken as Nick silently escorted Kaylin into the darkened apartment and over to his room. He led her in and shut the door quietly behind him. Nick stood in front of her, and for the first time since yelling at her father, spoke quietly, “Let me see your face.” He reached behind her to a lamp on his bedside table and snapped it on. Before he was even standing back fully, he could see the damage to her face. The hit had not landed evenly on her cheekbone as it was probably intended, but had caught her on her neck, under her ear leaving a bruise that stretched from her jaw line up to the ridge of her eye. There was a gash on the swath of skin behind her ear where a ring must have torn the soft skin like paper; the bleeding had stopped, but its maroon streaks had dried along her neck and matted a lock of her hair.
Nick put both hands behind Kaylin’s neck and cradled her head in his palms, gently brushing away the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. His azure eyes burned looking down at her, angry at the mutilation of her beautiful features, and his own inability to have stopped it. There were hundreds of questions he wanted to ask her, but this wasn’t the time. Instead he moved to lay on his bed and without saying a word she lay beside him. Nick pressed his back against the wall and tucked Kaylin in beside him, her back to his chest, her head resting on his arm. He pulled her as close to him as possible and they wove their legs together. He loved her, more sure of it now than ever before.
It was then, when Kaylin felt finally safe wrapped in Nick’s arms, the heat from his body washing over her, that she allowed herself to process the events of that night. Everything happened so quickly that most of it didn’t have time to register. Her father who barely knew how old she was, whose affection she had tried her entire life to earn, had all but called her a whore. Her father’s words and actions tonight confirmed what she had for years been trying to suppress: he didn’t see her as a daughter; she was the caretaker of his father and a constant reminder of the woman who had become his wife.
Nick’s pull on her made her leave her thoughts and take in what was happening now. He was hugging her to him, and she was crying, her body shaking with sobs and her breath held from years of practice in knowing how to cry silently. Maybe she did love Nick, she was at her happiest with him near and his touch no matter how insignificant made her knees weak. It was a feeling she had never known before and didn’t easily recognize. They hadn't even been dating two months, and he had defended her against the brick wall that was her father. Maybe it was love. The exhaustion of the night's events, coupled with this new swirl of emotions was made Kaylin drift into sleep between catching her breaths and adjusting to the idea that she was loved.
One night, a week before the first day of school, Nick sat with Kaylin on the stoop of her house talking about school, classes, and nothing in particular when a car veered to a stop in front of the house and her father staggered out. Nick had never met Aaron, and had only heard about him in snippets from either Kaylin or Stephen. The way the man walked and carried himself up the drive Nick knew immediately who it was.
“You,” Aaron began halfway up the asphalt driveway. It came as more of a growl than a word, “so you’re the boy Kaylin’s been…what do the kids call it these days?...”
“Dating,” Nick finished for him rising to his feet, “I’m the boy that is dating Kaylin.” Nick stood up, not sure what to do next, this was a tense situation, her father was obviously drunk.
“Really? In my day we just called it fucking,” Aaron retorted and continued his walk to the house.
“No, I wouldn’t call it that, sir,” Nick answered angrily.
“Hrmph,” was all Aaron said back. He was close now, and shoved Kaylin out of his way to get to the front door.
“Nice to meet you,” Nick tried pulling Kaylin up. “If it’s all right with you, we’ll be going.”
Aaron slowly turned around, his hand on the latch of the screen door. “Actually, it’s not all right with me. I don’t take lightly my daughter running all over hell’s half acre in the middle of the night with some kid. Is this what you do now, Kaylin? Is this what you do while I work? Who’s taking care of seanathair?” He grabbed her elbow and began to pull her inside.
Kaylin jerked her arm away. “Certainly not you,” she snapped. Aaron stared at her in disbelief for a fleeting moment before his eyes turned to stone. He dropped his hand to his side and in a quick motion threw it back up and backhanded her. She went reeling down the two steps and sat on the concrete, holding her face. Through eyes hazy with tears, Kaylin saw Nick grab her father’s arm and shove him against the aluminum screen door. Aaron pushed Nick back, turned to open the door and disappeared inside the house.
Without another word, Nick turned to help Kaylin to her feet. She pulled away from him when he went to hug her, but nodded at his suggestion to go to his house. They walked the few blocks to the only apartment building in Riversedge: a utilitarian style square of brick that faced a small courtyard that had seen better days. The apartments inside were pleasant, but the occupants were either single parents or retirees. Nick’s home life was the former: Nick’s father worked for the union and relocated to Ohio after he and Nick’s mother divorced.
Not a word was spoken as Nick silently escorted Kaylin into the darkened apartment and over to his room. He led her in and shut the door quietly behind him. Nick stood in front of her, and for the first time since yelling at her father, spoke quietly, “Let me see your face.” He reached behind her to a lamp on his bedside table and snapped it on. Before he was even standing back fully, he could see the damage to her face. The hit had not landed evenly on her cheekbone as it was probably intended, but had caught her on her neck, under her ear leaving a bruise that stretched from her jaw line up to the ridge of her eye. There was a gash on the swath of skin behind her ear where a ring must have torn the soft skin like paper; the bleeding had stopped, but its maroon streaks had dried along her neck and matted a lock of her hair.
Nick put both hands behind Kaylin’s neck and cradled her head in his palms, gently brushing away the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. His azure eyes burned looking down at her, angry at the mutilation of her beautiful features, and his own inability to have stopped it. There were hundreds of questions he wanted to ask her, but this wasn’t the time. Instead he moved to lay on his bed and without saying a word she lay beside him. Nick pressed his back against the wall and tucked Kaylin in beside him, her back to his chest, her head resting on his arm. He pulled her as close to him as possible and they wove their legs together. He loved her, more sure of it now than ever before.
It was then, when Kaylin felt finally safe wrapped in Nick’s arms, the heat from his body washing over her, that she allowed herself to process the events of that night. Everything happened so quickly that most of it didn’t have time to register. Her father who barely knew how old she was, whose affection she had tried her entire life to earn, had all but called her a whore. Her father’s words and actions tonight confirmed what she had for years been trying to suppress: he didn’t see her as a daughter; she was the caretaker of his father and a constant reminder of the woman who had become his wife.
Nick’s pull on her made her leave her thoughts and take in what was happening now. He was hugging her to him, and she was crying, her body shaking with sobs and her breath held from years of practice in knowing how to cry silently. Maybe she did love Nick, she was at her happiest with him near and his touch no matter how insignificant made her knees weak. It was a feeling she had never known before and didn’t easily recognize. They hadn't even been dating two months, and he had defended her against the brick wall that was her father. Maybe it was love. The exhaustion of the night's events, coupled with this new swirl of emotions was made Kaylin drift into sleep between catching her breaths and adjusting to the idea that she was loved.
Part Two: Chapter Five
Their dinner was fun and relaxed; Kaylin was thoroughly amused at Nick’s fascination with the diner stereotype as he insisted on ordering the special and then two slices of pie. He refused her offer to sit in the smoking section because it wasn’t fair to her. He was full of questions: her favorite music, her favorite TV shows, and her family. She answered as honestly as she knew how since no one really asked her those things. Nick’s constant smile faded only when she told him about her mother, and her ailing Grandfather. In a bold move, he reached over and took her hand.
“I’m sorry I pried,” he said, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand gently, “I ask too many questions when I get nervous; I’m sorry.” Kaylin looked down, embarrassed – he was nervous?
“You’ve got to have some of this pie, it’s amazing,” he announced, changing the subject.
Kaylin smiled at his attempt to soothe her and reached over with her fork to snag a bite. Nick gave her a mock-shocked face, but smiled at her ease with him. Stephen, Alicia’s brother, had introduced him to a few other girls in the area pretty early on; each girl acted so enthralled by him and were way to forward for his liking. He realized that he was the ‘new kid in town’ and the attention showered on him would wane with time. Sure, the attention of the local girls was flattering, but they acted ditsy or were unabashedly flirtatious – both moves that did more to make him want to leave quickly rather than enjoy their company. But not Kaylin; she didn’t act like he was anything special and didn’t put on airs like she was either: she acted like herself and he adored her already.
They wrapped up their dinner, and Nick quickly paid the bill, refusing to even deign himself to hearing her protests. While at the counter to pay, Kaylin noticed that his wallet was on a chain that connected to his belt loop, so she yanked on it as she passed him making the wallet flip out of his hand. Nick gave her a “hey!” but laughed and continued through the transaction.
Kaylin skipped down the few stone steps of the entrance to the diner and waited for Nick. She was pretending to read the headlines of the local papers resting in the vending machines out front when she felt a tug on one of her braids.
“All right, Pippy Longstocking, where to next?” Nick said dodging her as she turned around to push him. He grabbed hold of her hand and she momentarily lost her balance, regaining her footing only a few inches from him.
Any thought Kaylin might have had that Nick just wanted to be friends, any feeling that he was going to be like a big brother – as Stephen was – flew away the instant his skin touched hers in that moment. The laughing smile on her face softened as she stared into the deep sapphires that were his eyes. Her heart raced, sending her blood and what felt like electricity through her veins. Nick moved her hand to his waist and reached up to her neck with his free hand, inching her face even closer to his.
Kaylin had never been kissed before, but her instincts took over and she reached up on her toes and leaned in to him. This might have been her first kiss, but she was damn sure that it was a good one. The air around them crackled and her mind went blank of everything except for this perfect moment.
The next hour Kaylin took Nick to the park, and they took turns on the one working swing. It was officially dark, and some of the older teenagers were sneaking into the wooded areas around the playground for secret parties, rendezvous, and to nip from their parents’ beer collection. Everyone nodded a hello to Kaylin, and some stopped to be introduced to Nick after inquiring why she was out so late. No one seemed bothered that they were seen by her, and no one seemed too worried about her well-being with this relative stranger in town. She was regarded as trust-worthy and able to take care of herself, Nick surmised.
As they walked, Nick held her hand and would look over to her as she talked, telling him about the area that used to be a fountain, but was now just a raised area of dirt, or the place where someone once found a human hand in the bushes. She showed him the scar on her left knee, and pointed out where Sean Rizzman had pushed her and Alicia off the jungle gym during a fierce boy/girl war when she was in the third grade. Twice he stopped to kiss her again, and twice her world tilted and she grew dizzy from the affection.
They wound their way through the streets of Riversedge, Kaylin showing him little landmarks and memories, Nick taking it all in and still holding her hand. Finally they arrived at the dark green duplex that was her house.
“Well, this is where I live. I guess I should get going it’s probably pretty late,” she motioned to
the door and surveyed the windows to see if Seanathair was still awake. The house was dark except for the porch light that illuminated the few feet of a concrete stoop and the stairs leading to it.
“Looks like no one’s home,” Nick commented, looking at the time on his pager that was tucked into the pocket of his shorts, “it’s ten though.”
“Oh, Seanathair is home, he doesn’t go out,” Kaylin said absent-mindedly.
“Shan of hair? What?” Nick was confused.
“Seanathair, shan a hair, it’s Gaelic for grandfather. My grandfather is home. He lives with my dad and me. I sort of take care of him. He’s sick.” She skirted her eyes from his gaze, uncomfortable suddenly.
“Ah, that's right. Ok, then I should let you go and take care of him. Where’s your dad?” Nick was stretching to peer into the bay window that looked into the living room.
“He works. A lot. He won’t be home for awhile still,” Kaylin responded trying to wrap up the conversation. It had been such an amazing night, but she was tense now that he was so close to her house. So close to the threshold that transposed this world of summer and comfort into the one that she normally lived in; a life filled with black mucus and gurgling breaths; filled with a stumbling father who knocked over tables and slammed doors at all hours of the night; filled with a tired girl trying to make food at any hour of the night after being woken up because her father was hungry and there wasn’t a damn thing to eat in this house.
“Are you ok Kay? You seem like your someplace else all of a sudden,” Nick commented, encircling her waist with his hands, his thumbs absently rubbing her hipbone over her dress. She snapped back to reality and laced her arms under his and around his waist, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder and hug him.
“It’s just been such a great night,” she said and she found herself sad. Not the usual sad of having to reenter her house, but sad that with the shutting of her front door this night would be over and perhaps in the dawn things would be different. Nick rested his against head against hers, his chin at her forehead.
“It really has,” he said sounding far off, “Kaylin?”
She pulled her head away from it’s resting spot on his shoulder/chest and looked up at him with questioning eyes.
“I think I love you,” he finished.
She didn’t know how to respond, so she hugged him close to her and laughed, “There are much easier ways to get in my pants, Nick.” She could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest.
“I’m serious. Just wait. What are you doing tomorrow? Let’s go out, to a movie or something, I don’t care but I need to see you again.”
She looked up at him, and although he was grinning his words were serious.
“We’ll see. It depends how my grandfather is, ya know? It’s like a day to day thing,” she was trying to put him off, but she did want to see him again.
“Ya, I understand,” he leaned down and kissed her again, then moved his face to her ear and using his best Terminator voice whispered, “But I'll be back.”
“I’m sorry I pried,” he said, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand gently, “I ask too many questions when I get nervous; I’m sorry.” Kaylin looked down, embarrassed – he was nervous?
“You’ve got to have some of this pie, it’s amazing,” he announced, changing the subject.
Kaylin smiled at his attempt to soothe her and reached over with her fork to snag a bite. Nick gave her a mock-shocked face, but smiled at her ease with him. Stephen, Alicia’s brother, had introduced him to a few other girls in the area pretty early on; each girl acted so enthralled by him and were way to forward for his liking. He realized that he was the ‘new kid in town’ and the attention showered on him would wane with time. Sure, the attention of the local girls was flattering, but they acted ditsy or were unabashedly flirtatious – both moves that did more to make him want to leave quickly rather than enjoy their company. But not Kaylin; she didn’t act like he was anything special and didn’t put on airs like she was either: she acted like herself and he adored her already.
They wrapped up their dinner, and Nick quickly paid the bill, refusing to even deign himself to hearing her protests. While at the counter to pay, Kaylin noticed that his wallet was on a chain that connected to his belt loop, so she yanked on it as she passed him making the wallet flip out of his hand. Nick gave her a “hey!” but laughed and continued through the transaction.
Kaylin skipped down the few stone steps of the entrance to the diner and waited for Nick. She was pretending to read the headlines of the local papers resting in the vending machines out front when she felt a tug on one of her braids.
“All right, Pippy Longstocking, where to next?” Nick said dodging her as she turned around to push him. He grabbed hold of her hand and she momentarily lost her balance, regaining her footing only a few inches from him.
Any thought Kaylin might have had that Nick just wanted to be friends, any feeling that he was going to be like a big brother – as Stephen was – flew away the instant his skin touched hers in that moment. The laughing smile on her face softened as she stared into the deep sapphires that were his eyes. Her heart raced, sending her blood and what felt like electricity through her veins. Nick moved her hand to his waist and reached up to her neck with his free hand, inching her face even closer to his.
Kaylin had never been kissed before, but her instincts took over and she reached up on her toes and leaned in to him. This might have been her first kiss, but she was damn sure that it was a good one. The air around them crackled and her mind went blank of everything except for this perfect moment.
The next hour Kaylin took Nick to the park, and they took turns on the one working swing. It was officially dark, and some of the older teenagers were sneaking into the wooded areas around the playground for secret parties, rendezvous, and to nip from their parents’ beer collection. Everyone nodded a hello to Kaylin, and some stopped to be introduced to Nick after inquiring why she was out so late. No one seemed bothered that they were seen by her, and no one seemed too worried about her well-being with this relative stranger in town. She was regarded as trust-worthy and able to take care of herself, Nick surmised.
As they walked, Nick held her hand and would look over to her as she talked, telling him about the area that used to be a fountain, but was now just a raised area of dirt, or the place where someone once found a human hand in the bushes. She showed him the scar on her left knee, and pointed out where Sean Rizzman had pushed her and Alicia off the jungle gym during a fierce boy/girl war when she was in the third grade. Twice he stopped to kiss her again, and twice her world tilted and she grew dizzy from the affection.
They wound their way through the streets of Riversedge, Kaylin showing him little landmarks and memories, Nick taking it all in and still holding her hand. Finally they arrived at the dark green duplex that was her house.
“Well, this is where I live. I guess I should get going it’s probably pretty late,” she motioned to
the door and surveyed the windows to see if Seanathair was still awake. The house was dark except for the porch light that illuminated the few feet of a concrete stoop and the stairs leading to it.
“Looks like no one’s home,” Nick commented, looking at the time on his pager that was tucked into the pocket of his shorts, “it’s ten though.”
“Oh, Seanathair is home, he doesn’t go out,” Kaylin said absent-mindedly.
“Shan of hair? What?” Nick was confused.
“Seanathair, shan a hair, it’s Gaelic for grandfather. My grandfather is home. He lives with my dad and me. I sort of take care of him. He’s sick.” She skirted her eyes from his gaze, uncomfortable suddenly.
“Ah, that's right. Ok, then I should let you go and take care of him. Where’s your dad?” Nick was stretching to peer into the bay window that looked into the living room.
“He works. A lot. He won’t be home for awhile still,” Kaylin responded trying to wrap up the conversation. It had been such an amazing night, but she was tense now that he was so close to her house. So close to the threshold that transposed this world of summer and comfort into the one that she normally lived in; a life filled with black mucus and gurgling breaths; filled with a stumbling father who knocked over tables and slammed doors at all hours of the night; filled with a tired girl trying to make food at any hour of the night after being woken up because her father was hungry and there wasn’t a damn thing to eat in this house.
“Are you ok Kay? You seem like your someplace else all of a sudden,” Nick commented, encircling her waist with his hands, his thumbs absently rubbing her hipbone over her dress. She snapped back to reality and laced her arms under his and around his waist, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder and hug him.
“It’s just been such a great night,” she said and she found herself sad. Not the usual sad of having to reenter her house, but sad that with the shutting of her front door this night would be over and perhaps in the dawn things would be different. Nick rested his against head against hers, his chin at her forehead.
“It really has,” he said sounding far off, “Kaylin?”
She pulled her head away from it’s resting spot on his shoulder/chest and looked up at him with questioning eyes.
“I think I love you,” he finished.
She didn’t know how to respond, so she hugged him close to her and laughed, “There are much easier ways to get in my pants, Nick.” She could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest.
“I’m serious. Just wait. What are you doing tomorrow? Let’s go out, to a movie or something, I don’t care but I need to see you again.”
She looked up at him, and although he was grinning his words were serious.
“We’ll see. It depends how my grandfather is, ya know? It’s like a day to day thing,” she was trying to put him off, but she did want to see him again.
“Ya, I understand,” he leaned down and kissed her again, then moved his face to her ear and using his best Terminator voice whispered, “But I'll be back.”
Part Two: Chapter Three
“Seanathair, I’m going to go over Alicia’s house tonight, will you be OK?” he lolled his head to the side and caught her eye. He gave her a lopsided grin and pulled the pad of paper he kept on the end table towards him.
“Write it down so I don’t forget,” he mumbled as best he could, “and I will be fine.”
Kaylin gave him a warm smile and quickly scribbled down Alicia Rizzman’s name and address in her big, loopy handwriting. They both knew her father wouldn’t be home before she would be, but keeping up pretense was important to them both. There had been a lot of talk recently about the plant her father worked for shutting down, so his nights were spent at the bar with coworkers drinking their worries away.
“You look nice today, Kayliree,” he noticed, using a pet name for her he had been using more recently, “have fun.” Her grandfather wasn’t around much during her young years, but after moving in with Francis and Kaylin, he found that his granddaughter was a bright, patient, beautiful girl. She sat still during mass and not only listened to his ramblings, but asked questions, too. After the stroke, he realized how much his son neglected the girl for his work and friends, and tonight he was glad to see her get out and act her age for once.
“Thank you Seanathair,” Kaylin said and ducked out.
“Write it down so I don’t forget,” he mumbled as best he could, “and I will be fine.”
Kaylin gave him a warm smile and quickly scribbled down Alicia Rizzman’s name and address in her big, loopy handwriting. They both knew her father wouldn’t be home before she would be, but keeping up pretense was important to them both. There had been a lot of talk recently about the plant her father worked for shutting down, so his nights were spent at the bar with coworkers drinking their worries away.
“You look nice today, Kayliree,” he noticed, using a pet name for her he had been using more recently, “have fun.” Her grandfather wasn’t around much during her young years, but after moving in with Francis and Kaylin, he found that his granddaughter was a bright, patient, beautiful girl. She sat still during mass and not only listened to his ramblings, but asked questions, too. After the stroke, he realized how much his son neglected the girl for his work and friends, and tonight he was glad to see her get out and act her age for once.
“Thank you Seanathair,” Kaylin said and ducked out.
Part Two: Chapter Four
She saw him from the hill a few streets down, long before she reached this point. She knew where to look, and she stood for a few minutes watching him wait for her. He was leaning casually along the wrought-iron banister at the top of the stairs wearing a professionally tie-dyed shirt and loose, baggy, khaki shorts; his feet were slid into a pair of old, brown sandals, he had a shell necklace resting along the base of his neck, and his sunglass (she was sure they were ray ban) were hanging from the collar of his shirt. He was smoking, and even though school was out for the summer she still had to stifle the worry that someone would see him being so rebellious on school property.
Kaylin ascended the concrete steps of Riversedge Public High School with a tightness in her chest that was all new to her. She was never one to be confident, but she didn’t need to: everyone in the town knew her and she was comfortable in her niche as being Francis McSandsen’s daughter who was quiet and dependable, just like her father. This was someone new, someone who didn’t expect anything from her, who didn’t know her past and her present sometimes better than she did. This was someone who looked at her as a person and not a statue always standing along the border of the Riversedge community.
“Hey,” Kaylin said, trying to sound casual and keep the anxiety out of her voice.
“Hey yourself,” Nick quipped back, “I was worrying you wouldn’t show,” he inhaled the last of his cigarette and flicked the butt out into the vast green of the high school lawn. “Where to?” he said, pushing off the banister and taking the three steps towards her standing at the top of the last step. “Are we breaking in?” he joked, a wide grin across his face.
“No, let’s not get you suspended before your first day,” she laughed and tugged at her dress. She was wearing a dark navy blue baby doll dress over a pair of jean shorts, an outfit mimicked from My So-Called Life. She had pulled her long, brown hair into two French-braids in an effort to keep the afternoon’s chlorine frizz tamed down. “Have you eaten?” she questioned.
“Nope. Whatta thinking?” he skipped down the stairs before she could answer.
“There’s a diner in town, it’s just a few blocks away. Nothing spectacular, but it’s something to do.”
“Is there a waitress named Flo?” he asked.
“Ah, what? Why?”
Nick chuckled, “It’s from the TV show, Alice, you’ve never heard of it?” Kaylin gave him a look and shook her head. “It’s this seventies sitcom about a waitress. It’s the only diner I’ve been exposed to,” he finished.
“You aren’t missing much,” Kaylin quipped and led the way to the Dynasty, the local diner built in to the façade of Riversedge’s main street.
Kaylin ascended the concrete steps of Riversedge Public High School with a tightness in her chest that was all new to her. She was never one to be confident, but she didn’t need to: everyone in the town knew her and she was comfortable in her niche as being Francis McSandsen’s daughter who was quiet and dependable, just like her father. This was someone new, someone who didn’t expect anything from her, who didn’t know her past and her present sometimes better than she did. This was someone who looked at her as a person and not a statue always standing along the border of the Riversedge community.
“Hey,” Kaylin said, trying to sound casual and keep the anxiety out of her voice.
“Hey yourself,” Nick quipped back, “I was worrying you wouldn’t show,” he inhaled the last of his cigarette and flicked the butt out into the vast green of the high school lawn. “Where to?” he said, pushing off the banister and taking the three steps towards her standing at the top of the last step. “Are we breaking in?” he joked, a wide grin across his face.
“No, let’s not get you suspended before your first day,” she laughed and tugged at her dress. She was wearing a dark navy blue baby doll dress over a pair of jean shorts, an outfit mimicked from My So-Called Life. She had pulled her long, brown hair into two French-braids in an effort to keep the afternoon’s chlorine frizz tamed down. “Have you eaten?” she questioned.
“Nope. Whatta thinking?” he skipped down the stairs before she could answer.
“There’s a diner in town, it’s just a few blocks away. Nothing spectacular, but it’s something to do.”
“Is there a waitress named Flo?” he asked.
“Ah, what? Why?”
Nick chuckled, “It’s from the TV show, Alice, you’ve never heard of it?” Kaylin gave him a look and shook her head. “It’s this seventies sitcom about a waitress. It’s the only diner I’ve been exposed to,” he finished.
“You aren’t missing much,” Kaylin quipped and led the way to the Dynasty, the local diner built in to the façade of Riversedge’s main street.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Part Two: Chapter Two
On a humid day in late July, a fifteen year old Kaylin went swimming at her friend Alicia's house while the local priest came by to give confession to Francis. Alicia's brother, Stephen, had invited the new kid from their street over as well, a tall boy named Nick. At seventeen, Nicholas Ainsworth was built like an athlete with a slim waist and broad shoulders; he had moved to Ohio from California, so his tan was deep and natural. His flaxen hair was long, below his ears, and his eyes were the kind of blue that Kaylin thought the Pacific Ocean must have looked like. She was shy around him and found her arms constantly covering her stomach that, although flat, she believed to be too large. Nick was a natural joker, with a quick wit, and was taken with Kaylin immediately.
It was like she had known him her whole life: like she had been waiting her entire life for him to show up. They ended up talking the entire day, and into the early part of night. Except it didn't seem like talking, it was more like catching up, like they were best friends. As the sun grew more and more faint on the horizon, Kaylin became aware of the time and jolted.
"I need to get home, it's a lot later than I thought," she yanked on a pair of shorts over her black tank suit while Alicia lazily pulled herself out of the pool to help her gather her things. She was used to Kaylin having to go home early, and was surprised that she lasted this long. Nick, however, was startled, but recognized her worry and helped Alicia get everything put away.
"Let me walk you home," he offered, folding her towel. She was younger than him, but he knew he was smitten with her: her smile that revealed dimples set precariously on her cheeks, her face splashed with summer freckles, her long, brown hair unbleached or styled. Nick had grown up around the artificial beauty that was his mother's California, but Kaylin had a natural beauty that radiated through her eyes and in her laughter. She joked with him from the get go, and had a natural spit-fire personality. Now she was too hurried gathering her things into a plastic grocery bag to comment on his offer, but she didn't protest when he slipped on his sandals and shirt to follow her around the house and down the drive.
"Here, let me hold that," Nick said reaching for the bag while Kaylin worked her feet into her sneakers while trying to walk. She stopped a gave him a look, but let him take the bag.
"Am I supposed to swoon now?" she quipped, resuming her quick gait, and smirking to herself. She didn't know what he was expecting from Ohio girls, coming from California, but she wasn't impressed with being seen as weak.
"Um," he stumbled over how to answer that, "sure...?" he chuckled, and she turned her head to him and was forced to laugh too.
Kaylin didn't live far, only two blocks away, but Kaylin felt the world move in those few minutes of walking alone with him, not talking but enjoying each other's presence. As she skipped up the few steps to the concrete landing outside her front door, she turned to get the bag from him.
"Well this is it," she started, but Nick snatched the bag away from her reach and interrupted her.
"What are you doing later tonight? Maybe we can get together," he gave her a slow smile and ducked his head down to catch her eyes.
"Oh," Kaylin was surprised; she had never been asked out before. She grew up in a small town and every boy she knew was the son of a friend of her father's and, with the exception of being friends, never gave her a second thought. "Well, um," she looked towards the house, sighed with the thought of having to go back in to the sound of Seanathair laboring to breathe and trying his best to be good company to her. She hesitated in her answer, a new feeling of want crept into her; she wanted independence, she wanted to be the teenager she was, she wanted to keep having this California boy looking at her the way he was right now.
"Sure," she finally blurted out, "but I'll meet you someplace, OK?" she knew her father would never be home before her, but she didn't want to lie to Seanathair, even if he wouldn't know it. Someone knocking on the door would make him ask questions and she didn't know how he felt about boys, the situation had never presented itself before.
"OK. Worried I don't make a good impression, eh? All right," Nick joked, seeing the tension in her eyes. "But where? I just moved here, I barely know what street I live on."
"Oh," she had forgotten that. He was cute, and his teeth were such a sparkling white, he had a preppy look to him, much different than the grunge-and-flannel-wearing boys of school, she liked that. "How about I meet you in front of the school, and we can decide where to go from there?" the school building was large and in the center of town, unmistakable: you had to pass it to get to the highway or just about anywhere in town.
"Ah, the school. I know where that is! Ha, OK, I'll meet you at the school around eight?" he said, checking the time on his pager. One corner of his mouth curled up into a lopsided grin that gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling all over.
"See you then," Kaylin answered and before she could turn around, Nick leaned down and kissed her, feathery soft, on her jaw-line."
"See you," he whispered in her ear and then turned and headed off, back to Alicia's house.
It was like she had known him her whole life: like she had been waiting her entire life for him to show up. They ended up talking the entire day, and into the early part of night. Except it didn't seem like talking, it was more like catching up, like they were best friends. As the sun grew more and more faint on the horizon, Kaylin became aware of the time and jolted.
"I need to get home, it's a lot later than I thought," she yanked on a pair of shorts over her black tank suit while Alicia lazily pulled herself out of the pool to help her gather her things. She was used to Kaylin having to go home early, and was surprised that she lasted this long. Nick, however, was startled, but recognized her worry and helped Alicia get everything put away.
"Let me walk you home," he offered, folding her towel. She was younger than him, but he knew he was smitten with her: her smile that revealed dimples set precariously on her cheeks, her face splashed with summer freckles, her long, brown hair unbleached or styled. Nick had grown up around the artificial beauty that was his mother's California, but Kaylin had a natural beauty that radiated through her eyes and in her laughter. She joked with him from the get go, and had a natural spit-fire personality. Now she was too hurried gathering her things into a plastic grocery bag to comment on his offer, but she didn't protest when he slipped on his sandals and shirt to follow her around the house and down the drive.
"Here, let me hold that," Nick said reaching for the bag while Kaylin worked her feet into her sneakers while trying to walk. She stopped a gave him a look, but let him take the bag.
"Am I supposed to swoon now?" she quipped, resuming her quick gait, and smirking to herself. She didn't know what he was expecting from Ohio girls, coming from California, but she wasn't impressed with being seen as weak.
"Um," he stumbled over how to answer that, "sure...?" he chuckled, and she turned her head to him and was forced to laugh too.
Kaylin didn't live far, only two blocks away, but Kaylin felt the world move in those few minutes of walking alone with him, not talking but enjoying each other's presence. As she skipped up the few steps to the concrete landing outside her front door, she turned to get the bag from him.
"Well this is it," she started, but Nick snatched the bag away from her reach and interrupted her.
"What are you doing later tonight? Maybe we can get together," he gave her a slow smile and ducked his head down to catch her eyes.
"Oh," Kaylin was surprised; she had never been asked out before. She grew up in a small town and every boy she knew was the son of a friend of her father's and, with the exception of being friends, never gave her a second thought. "Well, um," she looked towards the house, sighed with the thought of having to go back in to the sound of Seanathair laboring to breathe and trying his best to be good company to her. She hesitated in her answer, a new feeling of want crept into her; she wanted independence, she wanted to be the teenager she was, she wanted to keep having this California boy looking at her the way he was right now.
"Sure," she finally blurted out, "but I'll meet you someplace, OK?" she knew her father would never be home before her, but she didn't want to lie to Seanathair, even if he wouldn't know it. Someone knocking on the door would make him ask questions and she didn't know how he felt about boys, the situation had never presented itself before.
"OK. Worried I don't make a good impression, eh? All right," Nick joked, seeing the tension in her eyes. "But where? I just moved here, I barely know what street I live on."
"Oh," she had forgotten that. He was cute, and his teeth were such a sparkling white, he had a preppy look to him, much different than the grunge-and-flannel-wearing boys of school, she liked that. "How about I meet you in front of the school, and we can decide where to go from there?" the school building was large and in the center of town, unmistakable: you had to pass it to get to the highway or just about anywhere in town.
"Ah, the school. I know where that is! Ha, OK, I'll meet you at the school around eight?" he said, checking the time on his pager. One corner of his mouth curled up into a lopsided grin that gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling all over.
"See you then," Kaylin answered and before she could turn around, Nick leaned down and kissed her, feathery soft, on her jaw-line."
"See you," he whispered in her ear and then turned and headed off, back to Alicia's house.
Part Two: Chapter One
Winters in southern Ohio can be especially cruel and stricken; there are days when the air is too cold for the welcome snow that would shut down schools and businesses, allowing young children the opportunity to romp and play in the white powder. For a young Kaylin McSandsen, winters were especially brutal: she was left along most nights, and every scraping of a bare branch, every creak of the cold, empty house was a monster that filled the little girl's nightmares.
Kaylin Colleen McSandsen was the only child of Aaron McSandsen, a hardened man, born in Ireland and raised in Kentucky by his coal mining father. He had worked hard, and earned the respect of those around him. At twenty-one he met Colleen Mullins, within two months they were married; seven months later their daughter was born. Aaron was absorbed in his work and worried constantly about the opinions of those around him. He had high expectations of himself and of his new family, before it had even begun. His patience with his young bride wore thing within weeks of their marriage.
Aaron worked as the sift manager for the manufacturing company in a small town called Riversedge, located near mostly nothing in Ohio. He took on as many shifts and duties as he could' after work he was always asked to out for drinks with coworkers and eventually his bosses. He was a man's man: hard-working, fun to be around, and always dependable.
Collen was a frail, weak woman who waited constantly for the young and passionate Aaron she had fallen in love with to come home. Worried so about pleasing the man who had become her husband, Kaylin was left to herself most of the time whole Colleen fretted about, herself taking nips from a bottle she kept in her spice cabinet. Kaylin was tasked with helping Mommy clean the house: scrubbing baseboards and windows daily, toilet bowls washed with bleach after each flush, and her clothes were neatly folded before being placed in the hamper for washing.
Kaylin was only a few years old when she first remembered seeing her father hit her mother. She had woken up in the middle of the night to hear her father's loud singing downstairs, Collen was hushing him, and he was shoving her away. In that instant, all the days of trying to win his approval, all the nights of waiting for him to come home rushed through Colleen's veins and she threw a heavy glass platter at him. The shattering as it hit the floor was deafening, and Aaron attacked her like she was a man, breaking her jaw with one hard punch that laid her to the ground. His calloused hands were around her throat when he saw little Kaylin standing in the door, blood from her mother's mouth had sprayed on her frayed Care Bears nightgown. He released Colleen, wiped the spittle from his mouth and growled, "It's not even worth it. You aren't even worth my sweat."
Things changed after that. Every night Aaron didn't come home from his shift, Colleen went out too, giving Kaylin kisses and told to stay in bed no matter what. Sometimes Mommy came home first, stumbling in the door not always alone; sometimes Father came home first waking Kaylin up with a shake, asking where her mother was.
Her mother's death in a car accident when Kaylin was twelve ended that. Her father tried to mourn his wife, but the loss was inconsequential, they had lost each other years before her body was in the ground. Aaron's estranged relationship with his daughter prevented him from helping the young girl handle her bereavement, but neighbors and townspeople came to his aide: offering to stay with the girl while he worked, bringing food for their meals, and taking Kaylin to mass. Never wanting to be pitied, Aaron accepted the offering for the obligatory mourning time, and then assured everyone they would get along fine. Aaron realized he needed someone to watch over his daughter's comings and goings though, and to ensure their privacy and to maintain his routine of working and philandering, Aaron moved his ailing father into his house.
Exposed to too much war and coal dust, Francis McSandsen, was a gruff man who adored his granddaughter in his own, quiet way. He complimented her cooking, signed school papers; he bought a TV for her room and even paid for her own telephone line to her bedroom; she called him 'Seanathair' the Gaelic word for Grandfather that he had taught her long ago, and he called her his 'Kaylerie' an adaption of her name in the old brogue. But he was as distant as his son, and preferred to spend more time to himself and watching TV than paying much attention to his granddaughter.
Kaylin had learned early to smile and be happy no matter what, and to be the best little girl she could be and never upset anyone. She gave love and hugs to everyone in the school and the community, and she was known to a strong and diligent daughter to her widowed father and her sick grandfather. Kaylin was good at smiling and being good for it was in doing so that she got the occasional smile in return from her father, or that she earned praise from other adults in her vicinity. She never mourned her life: it was the only one she knew.
Kaylin Colleen McSandsen was the only child of Aaron McSandsen, a hardened man, born in Ireland and raised in Kentucky by his coal mining father. He had worked hard, and earned the respect of those around him. At twenty-one he met Colleen Mullins, within two months they were married; seven months later their daughter was born. Aaron was absorbed in his work and worried constantly about the opinions of those around him. He had high expectations of himself and of his new family, before it had even begun. His patience with his young bride wore thing within weeks of their marriage.
Aaron worked as the sift manager for the manufacturing company in a small town called Riversedge, located near mostly nothing in Ohio. He took on as many shifts and duties as he could' after work he was always asked to out for drinks with coworkers and eventually his bosses. He was a man's man: hard-working, fun to be around, and always dependable.
Collen was a frail, weak woman who waited constantly for the young and passionate Aaron she had fallen in love with to come home. Worried so about pleasing the man who had become her husband, Kaylin was left to herself most of the time whole Colleen fretted about, herself taking nips from a bottle she kept in her spice cabinet. Kaylin was tasked with helping Mommy clean the house: scrubbing baseboards and windows daily, toilet bowls washed with bleach after each flush, and her clothes were neatly folded before being placed in the hamper for washing.
Kaylin was only a few years old when she first remembered seeing her father hit her mother. She had woken up in the middle of the night to hear her father's loud singing downstairs, Collen was hushing him, and he was shoving her away. In that instant, all the days of trying to win his approval, all the nights of waiting for him to come home rushed through Colleen's veins and she threw a heavy glass platter at him. The shattering as it hit the floor was deafening, and Aaron attacked her like she was a man, breaking her jaw with one hard punch that laid her to the ground. His calloused hands were around her throat when he saw little Kaylin standing in the door, blood from her mother's mouth had sprayed on her frayed Care Bears nightgown. He released Colleen, wiped the spittle from his mouth and growled, "It's not even worth it. You aren't even worth my sweat."
Things changed after that. Every night Aaron didn't come home from his shift, Colleen went out too, giving Kaylin kisses and told to stay in bed no matter what. Sometimes Mommy came home first, stumbling in the door not always alone; sometimes Father came home first waking Kaylin up with a shake, asking where her mother was.
Her mother's death in a car accident when Kaylin was twelve ended that. Her father tried to mourn his wife, but the loss was inconsequential, they had lost each other years before her body was in the ground. Aaron's estranged relationship with his daughter prevented him from helping the young girl handle her bereavement, but neighbors and townspeople came to his aide: offering to stay with the girl while he worked, bringing food for their meals, and taking Kaylin to mass. Never wanting to be pitied, Aaron accepted the offering for the obligatory mourning time, and then assured everyone they would get along fine. Aaron realized he needed someone to watch over his daughter's comings and goings though, and to ensure their privacy and to maintain his routine of working and philandering, Aaron moved his ailing father into his house.
Exposed to too much war and coal dust, Francis McSandsen, was a gruff man who adored his granddaughter in his own, quiet way. He complimented her cooking, signed school papers; he bought a TV for her room and even paid for her own telephone line to her bedroom; she called him 'Seanathair' the Gaelic word for Grandfather that he had taught her long ago, and he called her his 'Kaylerie' an adaption of her name in the old brogue. But he was as distant as his son, and preferred to spend more time to himself and watching TV than paying much attention to his granddaughter.
Kaylin had learned early to smile and be happy no matter what, and to be the best little girl she could be and never upset anyone. She gave love and hugs to everyone in the school and the community, and she was known to a strong and diligent daughter to her widowed father and her sick grandfather. Kaylin was good at smiling and being good for it was in doing so that she got the occasional smile in return from her father, or that she earned praise from other adults in her vicinity. She never mourned her life: it was the only one she knew.
Chapter Thirteen
“So, is this over?”
The question stunned Kaylin, but as she watched Ryan’s eyes burn with anticipation at her response, she realized it wasn’t the question that she was unprepared for, it was her own response. She had grown accustomed to having relationships end; there were a multitude of reasons: things maybe got “too serious” or maybe she got bored. There were even a few times when she wasn’t the first one to want out. But there was something about Ryan. There was something about watching him, watch her. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. She thought about how they left their shows together, and how he put his hand on the small of her back when they were out together, and she realized that she wasn’t ready to give that up; it had been a long while since she had felt that way, since she had felt that pull on her.
“I guess that’s a yes,” Ryan said, taking her silence for her answer.
“Ryan,” Kaylin began, trying to sort through what she was feeling without divulging too much,
“I’m not sure what you mean. What has happened that would make you think that?”
“Wha…are you kidding me, Kaylin? Why would I think...” he turned his head and couldn’t keep the sarcastic laugh from escaping his throat, “Nice. Here I am going crazy because I haven’t heard from you in five days and apparently you didn’t even notice.”
“Of course I noticed. I, I called out of rehearsal. I didn’t just skip it. There was, are, some things I need to take care of.” Ryan rolled his eyes as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked past him.
“I know you called out of rehearsal, Elizabeth told me that. She also told me that you weren’t on your deathbed sick, which is what I thought was wrong when you didn’t call me back. Then I come over and you weren’t even here? Charlotte next door said she hadn’t seen you go anywhere, I figured you were avoiding me.” He trailed off and watched her response, hoping he was wrong, but he saw her jaw clench at his last sentence, and he knew he was right. He knew that all his irrational fears were rooted in truth. “So it’s over. Fine, I wish I could say I just don’t care, but I do. You know I do or else I wouldn’t even be here.” His heart was racing madly, making fire course through his veins. For the last five days all he could think about was her, where she was, what could have happened to her, and now here she was – at home. Nothing was wrong at all. But there was something wrong; a distance had developed in the air between them that had never been there before. It’s like she had taken the five days to fortify a barricade, silent and imposing. “Are you really not going to say anything, Kaylin? Do I really mean that little to you that I don’t even get a reason why? I just get to leave?”
Her mind raced for a reason she could give him that would satisfy his curiosity, but not let him go. She took a deep breath and held in the exhale as she lifted her eyes to his.
“Stay,” was all she could say. His warm, blue eyes burned with a mixture of emotions she couldn’t read. She let her breath out slowly, controlled. “I don’t want you to leave, but I understand if you want to. It’s just, well, it’s just that I’m not used to having to explain myself to people. I wasn’t ready to have to.”
His brows pulled together with a look of confusion. “Why would I not want to know where you were? Why would I not care about what was happening to you? One minute you’re in bed with me, the next I’m pleading with Felix to find out if he’s heard from you,” Kaylin had to smirk at that: she knew Felix well. He’d probably made Ryan take him out to dinner only to say he knew nothing.
The fire that had been coursing through Ryan’s torso began to recede: she wanted him to stay. Kaylin looked down at herself, suddenly aware of her own existence. She had been in the same dress since her last rehearsal – how many days ago? Ryan had said five; could it really have been five days? Yes, today was Tuesday, she knew that - she called out today and they didn’t have rehearsal on Sundays and Mondays. She had worn this to Saturday’s rehearsal, the heather grey dance dress. It was so easy to wear that she hadn’t changed out of it since she had gotten home Saturday night and saw that she had a message.
Ryan followed her eyes down to look at what she was wearing. “Babe, is that the same outfit you wore Saturday?” He tilted his head down to look into her face. She was usually particular about her appearance, not in a vain way, but in a way that showed that she was aware of herself and how others saw her. Tonight she was standing before him in a rumpled cotton and spandex dress made for practicing dance routines, her feet were bare, and she had a faded white sweater jacket pulled over her shoulders. Across the top of her knee was a scratch with dried blood along the side where she had obviously tried to wipe it away.
He became intensely aware of the state of her house now. There was a small section of the faux-suede couch that had an unfolded throw blanket lying across it, and her cordless landline phone was on the end table. Her purse was thrown open on the floor in front of the blanket and her cell phone was lying open on the ottoman used as a coffee table.
“There is something wrong. What do you need to take care of?” his voice was softer now and his movements more deliberate. He moved his right hand out to pat her hair down where it was knotted in the back, but she jerked her head away. Instead he reached for her hand. She stepped aside, allowing him to come in. He sat precariously on the edge of her sofa, on the end without the blanket. She sat down tentatively next to him.
“Kay, I meant what I said the other night. I do love you. You aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. Whatever is going on, whatever it is, I’m here. Just tell me.” She was looking at her feet, all the confidence he’d become so accustomed to was drained out of her. “I know you’ve been hurt before, we all have, but Kaylin I’m not going to hurt you. Just tell me; just explain it to me, and I’ll understand.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she snapped, “I’ve done just fine on my own for the last ten years, I don’t need someone around now.” She saw the hurt in his eyes, but the ice in her voice remained unchanged; he needed to back off, and he needed to back off now. “Why can’t you just be happy the way things are? Why do you need anymore than this?”
He looked away and bit his lower lip. How could he make her see? How could she see anything different when she looked in the mirror than she had always seen? To him she was like a porcelain doll: carefully put together and meticulous in appearance, something to be cherished and adored, but he knew that she saw herself as less, as a plaything put together of bits and pieces of leftover material.
“Because this isn’t enough,” he waved his hands around her small house scattered with mementos of her life and the occasional remnant of his presence. “I love you, Kaylin. I love every bit of you. I want to show you, show the world, just how much. I want to live everyday of my life knowing that you are a part of it,” he moved to be closer to her. He wanted to hold her and let all the love, frustration, and happiness he held for her come out as he pulled her to him.
She threw her hands up and tangled them in her hair, twisting her fingers through the length of it, a defensive move. “You don’t know what you are saying, Ryan. I can’t give you any more than this. You’re happy aren’t you? We have a good time together, don’t we? Let’s just leave it at this. This is more than enough.” She looked almost panicked.
In the time he had known her, he knew she lived her life as a closed off box. Each aspect of her life compartmentalized into its own place. When they first started dating trying to get her to talk about her life before she moved out to New York was like trying to decipher a riddle. Whenever he figured one out, whenever he felt like he was getting closer to her, getting to know the real Kaylin McSandsen, she would pull away, disappear almost.
She had created the persona she wanted people to know. He knew there was more to her than the smile she put on like makeup every day; he wanted to know what she thought, what she felt, what made her this energy that fueled his every thought. She was like a drug to him, and he wanted to know every aspect of her. But as he tried to get closer to her, to show her how much he wanted, needed her, she made it clear in every way that she had long ago isolated herself so far from the person she had once been, that it would impossible for him to do so.
“I love you, Kaylin. Nothing is going to change that.”
Ryan stared down at her; she looked so small, pressed up against the base of the sofa like that. She looked defeated. He was ready to press the issue, he was ready to go to war with whatever soldiers she had lined up to protect the wall that surrounded her: he was prepared for tears, ready for screams, he had steeled himself to be hit, but he wasn’t ready for the look on her face that showed him that she had already been killed. This whole time he wasn’t breaking down a wall around her, he was climbing into her tomb.
“You’re not crushed; you’re not done,” he talked gently as he squatted down to her level. He picked up her hand, so small and delicate compared to his. She didn’t try to pull her hand away, but as his thumb caressed the swath of skin between her thumb and forefinger, resting on the scar nestled between them, something shifted in her eyes.
“You don’t know that,” was all she said. “You don’t know anything about me, about my past, how can you be so sure of anything? No one hurt me. No one left me. I was the one who left. I was the one who hurt someone. I was the one who left.”
She stared at a patch of wall beyond where they sat, her eyes unfocused and her mind racing along somewhere far away from where she sat now.
“Tell me,” Ryan whispered settling down on the floor beside her, not letting go of her hand. “Tell me about you, about your past. Because you still haven’t convinced me…” he trailed off. Something in his voice or what he said made her pull her hand out of his. She pulled her legs towards her body and stood up. She was striding off to a different room, her bare feet making quiet padding noises down the hall.
“Kaylin?” he called after her. Using the ottoman for leverage he stood up awkwardly. He could see her reflected in the mirror at the end of the hall. Her back was to the door; she was sitting on a box placed strategically under a big window, staring out into the black.
Ryan moved to enter the room and sat on the worn leather chair a few feet away from her. He decided that she didn’t need to hear him - she wasn’t talking for him anymore. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned in. He could see the stress on her jaw line, her beautiful profile set hard against the black night behind her.
“Kaylin,” he whispered trying to take her hand in his, “please, don’t be like this,” she allowed him to take her hand only for a minute, and then pulled it away. “I know how you see yourself, I know you better than you think I can, but I do. I know someone hurt you. I know you loved someone long before me, but I promise I won’t hurt you the way he did. I promise that no matter how broken you think you are, I can fix it. I can show you how amazing this can be.” Her chin quivered and she looked away. Her eyes were wet, but no tears escaped them. “How can you think you are anything other than perfect in my eyes?”
“Because it’s like you said,” she interrupted, “I’m not like everyone else. I don’t just have a broken heart, it was never broken - it was crushed. Do you know that? Do you know that you can’t just fix something once it’s crushed; you can’t fix me.”
“Kay,” Ryan whispered, “nothing you say about any scar - this one,” his thumb rubbed the jagged flesh on her hand, “or any other, will make me turn and run away, I swear.”
“It’s not a pretty story, Ryan,” Kaylin mumbled pulling her hand free from his grasp. She pulled in a long, deep breath steeling herself against the tirade of emotions that began to storm inside her. She clenched her jaw down as her mind went wheeled around the words ‘I’m not ready to talk about this,’ but she wouldn’t say that aloud. She had not talked about this, she had never talked about this; when would she be ready? It had been eight years: eight years and hundreds of lifetimes ago.
How could she explain that it had been years since she allowed herself to laugh without feeling guilty; eight years since she slept through the night without walking through a world of what might have been. It was Ryan’s arms around her that made her sleep soundly; it was Ryan’s presence that made the laughter escape so easily from her lips. How could she explain to the man standing before her, the man that made her feel safe, loved, beautiful, that he wasn’t the first to do so?
The question stunned Kaylin, but as she watched Ryan’s eyes burn with anticipation at her response, she realized it wasn’t the question that she was unprepared for, it was her own response. She had grown accustomed to having relationships end; there were a multitude of reasons: things maybe got “too serious” or maybe she got bored. There were even a few times when she wasn’t the first one to want out. But there was something about Ryan. There was something about watching him, watch her. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. She thought about how they left their shows together, and how he put his hand on the small of her back when they were out together, and she realized that she wasn’t ready to give that up; it had been a long while since she had felt that way, since she had felt that pull on her.
“I guess that’s a yes,” Ryan said, taking her silence for her answer.
“Ryan,” Kaylin began, trying to sort through what she was feeling without divulging too much,
“I’m not sure what you mean. What has happened that would make you think that?”
“Wha…are you kidding me, Kaylin? Why would I think...” he turned his head and couldn’t keep the sarcastic laugh from escaping his throat, “Nice. Here I am going crazy because I haven’t heard from you in five days and apparently you didn’t even notice.”
“Of course I noticed. I, I called out of rehearsal. I didn’t just skip it. There was, are, some things I need to take care of.” Ryan rolled his eyes as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked past him.
“I know you called out of rehearsal, Elizabeth told me that. She also told me that you weren’t on your deathbed sick, which is what I thought was wrong when you didn’t call me back. Then I come over and you weren’t even here? Charlotte next door said she hadn’t seen you go anywhere, I figured you were avoiding me.” He trailed off and watched her response, hoping he was wrong, but he saw her jaw clench at his last sentence, and he knew he was right. He knew that all his irrational fears were rooted in truth. “So it’s over. Fine, I wish I could say I just don’t care, but I do. You know I do or else I wouldn’t even be here.” His heart was racing madly, making fire course through his veins. For the last five days all he could think about was her, where she was, what could have happened to her, and now here she was – at home. Nothing was wrong at all. But there was something wrong; a distance had developed in the air between them that had never been there before. It’s like she had taken the five days to fortify a barricade, silent and imposing. “Are you really not going to say anything, Kaylin? Do I really mean that little to you that I don’t even get a reason why? I just get to leave?”
Her mind raced for a reason she could give him that would satisfy his curiosity, but not let him go. She took a deep breath and held in the exhale as she lifted her eyes to his.
“Stay,” was all she could say. His warm, blue eyes burned with a mixture of emotions she couldn’t read. She let her breath out slowly, controlled. “I don’t want you to leave, but I understand if you want to. It’s just, well, it’s just that I’m not used to having to explain myself to people. I wasn’t ready to have to.”
His brows pulled together with a look of confusion. “Why would I not want to know where you were? Why would I not care about what was happening to you? One minute you’re in bed with me, the next I’m pleading with Felix to find out if he’s heard from you,” Kaylin had to smirk at that: she knew Felix well. He’d probably made Ryan take him out to dinner only to say he knew nothing.
The fire that had been coursing through Ryan’s torso began to recede: she wanted him to stay. Kaylin looked down at herself, suddenly aware of her own existence. She had been in the same dress since her last rehearsal – how many days ago? Ryan had said five; could it really have been five days? Yes, today was Tuesday, she knew that - she called out today and they didn’t have rehearsal on Sundays and Mondays. She had worn this to Saturday’s rehearsal, the heather grey dance dress. It was so easy to wear that she hadn’t changed out of it since she had gotten home Saturday night and saw that she had a message.
Ryan followed her eyes down to look at what she was wearing. “Babe, is that the same outfit you wore Saturday?” He tilted his head down to look into her face. She was usually particular about her appearance, not in a vain way, but in a way that showed that she was aware of herself and how others saw her. Tonight she was standing before him in a rumpled cotton and spandex dress made for practicing dance routines, her feet were bare, and she had a faded white sweater jacket pulled over her shoulders. Across the top of her knee was a scratch with dried blood along the side where she had obviously tried to wipe it away.
He became intensely aware of the state of her house now. There was a small section of the faux-suede couch that had an unfolded throw blanket lying across it, and her cordless landline phone was on the end table. Her purse was thrown open on the floor in front of the blanket and her cell phone was lying open on the ottoman used as a coffee table.
“There is something wrong. What do you need to take care of?” his voice was softer now and his movements more deliberate. He moved his right hand out to pat her hair down where it was knotted in the back, but she jerked her head away. Instead he reached for her hand. She stepped aside, allowing him to come in. He sat precariously on the edge of her sofa, on the end without the blanket. She sat down tentatively next to him.
“Kay, I meant what I said the other night. I do love you. You aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. Whatever is going on, whatever it is, I’m here. Just tell me.” She was looking at her feet, all the confidence he’d become so accustomed to was drained out of her. “I know you’ve been hurt before, we all have, but Kaylin I’m not going to hurt you. Just tell me; just explain it to me, and I’ll understand.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she snapped, “I’ve done just fine on my own for the last ten years, I don’t need someone around now.” She saw the hurt in his eyes, but the ice in her voice remained unchanged; he needed to back off, and he needed to back off now. “Why can’t you just be happy the way things are? Why do you need anymore than this?”
He looked away and bit his lower lip. How could he make her see? How could she see anything different when she looked in the mirror than she had always seen? To him she was like a porcelain doll: carefully put together and meticulous in appearance, something to be cherished and adored, but he knew that she saw herself as less, as a plaything put together of bits and pieces of leftover material.
“Because this isn’t enough,” he waved his hands around her small house scattered with mementos of her life and the occasional remnant of his presence. “I love you, Kaylin. I love every bit of you. I want to show you, show the world, just how much. I want to live everyday of my life knowing that you are a part of it,” he moved to be closer to her. He wanted to hold her and let all the love, frustration, and happiness he held for her come out as he pulled her to him.
She threw her hands up and tangled them in her hair, twisting her fingers through the length of it, a defensive move. “You don’t know what you are saying, Ryan. I can’t give you any more than this. You’re happy aren’t you? We have a good time together, don’t we? Let’s just leave it at this. This is more than enough.” She looked almost panicked.
In the time he had known her, he knew she lived her life as a closed off box. Each aspect of her life compartmentalized into its own place. When they first started dating trying to get her to talk about her life before she moved out to New York was like trying to decipher a riddle. Whenever he figured one out, whenever he felt like he was getting closer to her, getting to know the real Kaylin McSandsen, she would pull away, disappear almost.
She had created the persona she wanted people to know. He knew there was more to her than the smile she put on like makeup every day; he wanted to know what she thought, what she felt, what made her this energy that fueled his every thought. She was like a drug to him, and he wanted to know every aspect of her. But as he tried to get closer to her, to show her how much he wanted, needed her, she made it clear in every way that she had long ago isolated herself so far from the person she had once been, that it would impossible for him to do so.
“I love you, Kaylin. Nothing is going to change that.”
Ryan stared down at her; she looked so small, pressed up against the base of the sofa like that. She looked defeated. He was ready to press the issue, he was ready to go to war with whatever soldiers she had lined up to protect the wall that surrounded her: he was prepared for tears, ready for screams, he had steeled himself to be hit, but he wasn’t ready for the look on her face that showed him that she had already been killed. This whole time he wasn’t breaking down a wall around her, he was climbing into her tomb.
“You’re not crushed; you’re not done,” he talked gently as he squatted down to her level. He picked up her hand, so small and delicate compared to his. She didn’t try to pull her hand away, but as his thumb caressed the swath of skin between her thumb and forefinger, resting on the scar nestled between them, something shifted in her eyes.
“You don’t know that,” was all she said. “You don’t know anything about me, about my past, how can you be so sure of anything? No one hurt me. No one left me. I was the one who left. I was the one who hurt someone. I was the one who left.”
She stared at a patch of wall beyond where they sat, her eyes unfocused and her mind racing along somewhere far away from where she sat now.
“Tell me,” Ryan whispered settling down on the floor beside her, not letting go of her hand. “Tell me about you, about your past. Because you still haven’t convinced me…” he trailed off. Something in his voice or what he said made her pull her hand out of his. She pulled her legs towards her body and stood up. She was striding off to a different room, her bare feet making quiet padding noises down the hall.
“Kaylin?” he called after her. Using the ottoman for leverage he stood up awkwardly. He could see her reflected in the mirror at the end of the hall. Her back was to the door; she was sitting on a box placed strategically under a big window, staring out into the black.
Ryan moved to enter the room and sat on the worn leather chair a few feet away from her. He decided that she didn’t need to hear him - she wasn’t talking for him anymore. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned in. He could see the stress on her jaw line, her beautiful profile set hard against the black night behind her.
“Kaylin,” he whispered trying to take her hand in his, “please, don’t be like this,” she allowed him to take her hand only for a minute, and then pulled it away. “I know how you see yourself, I know you better than you think I can, but I do. I know someone hurt you. I know you loved someone long before me, but I promise I won’t hurt you the way he did. I promise that no matter how broken you think you are, I can fix it. I can show you how amazing this can be.” Her chin quivered and she looked away. Her eyes were wet, but no tears escaped them. “How can you think you are anything other than perfect in my eyes?”
“Because it’s like you said,” she interrupted, “I’m not like everyone else. I don’t just have a broken heart, it was never broken - it was crushed. Do you know that? Do you know that you can’t just fix something once it’s crushed; you can’t fix me.”
“Kay,” Ryan whispered, “nothing you say about any scar - this one,” his thumb rubbed the jagged flesh on her hand, “or any other, will make me turn and run away, I swear.”
“It’s not a pretty story, Ryan,” Kaylin mumbled pulling her hand free from his grasp. She pulled in a long, deep breath steeling herself against the tirade of emotions that began to storm inside her. She clenched her jaw down as her mind went wheeled around the words ‘I’m not ready to talk about this,’ but she wouldn’t say that aloud. She had not talked about this, she had never talked about this; when would she be ready? It had been eight years: eight years and hundreds of lifetimes ago.
How could she explain that it had been years since she allowed herself to laugh without feeling guilty; eight years since she slept through the night without walking through a world of what might have been. It was Ryan’s arms around her that made her sleep soundly; it was Ryan’s presence that made the laughter escape so easily from her lips. How could she explain to the man standing before her, the man that made her feel safe, loved, beautiful, that he wasn’t the first to do so?
Chapter Twelve
“Kay did this about three years ago too” Felix said, stirring his tea absent-mindedly, “she was gone for a week. When she got back it turns out her grandfather died, and she went to Ireland to scatter his ashes.”
“Who doesn’t tell their friends when their relatives die?”
“Kaylin Colleen McSandsen,” Felix deadpanned.
“What did you do? Did you freak out?”
“Not really. Well, at first I did, we all did. She’s not the type of person to not return phone calls or anything, you know? But when she got back she was the same old Kay. She said that she just wasn’t that close to her grandfather or anything, they just had one of those relationships. So I hung around a bit more than usual, to make sure she was really ok and before I knew it, it was like nothing had ever happened. But Kay gets depressed in the winters” Felix realized aloud, "not dramatic, or anything, but just not as chipper I guess. I dunno, it's weird. She doesn't like the holidays I guess, she's been like this as long as I've known her."
Felix was Kay’s oldest friend. She met him about an hour after moving to New York; he was her neighbor: a gay man that was living on his own for the first time and fully embracing his eccentric, flamboyant side. Kay loved and took care of him, everything from his broken hearts to his hangovers.
Eventually Kaylin bought a duplex in Queens, and Felix got a steady job as “Felicia” in the drag review of “Victor/Victoria: Victorious!” but they still talked to each other regularly. Felix was wearing charcoal gray pants, a black, mock turtleneck and a matching scarf. He was lounging in a chair at one of the outside tables of a café in SoHo; the weather was unseasonably warm and Felix was primped like he was starring in a reality show.
He raised one eyebrow, “I am assuming that everything is OK with Kay, or else you would have told me over the phone right?” he asked noticing Ryan leaning across the table.
“I told her I loved her the last time I saw her,” Ryan said, “and she took off like a speeding bullet. Now I called her box office and they said she took the day off ‘for personal reasons.’” Felix’s eyes stared off, processing what Ryan had just told him. He had an idea what was going on, but it wasn’t his place to tell this story.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Felix commented, trying to keep the worry from his face. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“Do you really love her? You haven’t known each other very long.”
“I do. I can’t explain it, but being around her,” Felix waving his hand interrupted Ryan.
“I don’t need to hear about it. But if you do, if you really love her and want to run away and get married or whatever it is you breeders do, you need to know more about her.”
“I would, but I can’t get a hold of her,” Ryan sulked as the waiter came over and handed Felix the check; with a quick gesture, Felix pointed in Ryan’s direction and stood up. Ryan fished out money from his jeans pocket.
“You need to ask her about the scars,” Felix said dramatically and pulled his winter white parka about him, “and then tell her to call me.”
“Who doesn’t tell their friends when their relatives die?”
“Kaylin Colleen McSandsen,” Felix deadpanned.
“What did you do? Did you freak out?”
“Not really. Well, at first I did, we all did. She’s not the type of person to not return phone calls or anything, you know? But when she got back she was the same old Kay. She said that she just wasn’t that close to her grandfather or anything, they just had one of those relationships. So I hung around a bit more than usual, to make sure she was really ok and before I knew it, it was like nothing had ever happened. But Kay gets depressed in the winters” Felix realized aloud, "not dramatic, or anything, but just not as chipper I guess. I dunno, it's weird. She doesn't like the holidays I guess, she's been like this as long as I've known her."
Felix was Kay’s oldest friend. She met him about an hour after moving to New York; he was her neighbor: a gay man that was living on his own for the first time and fully embracing his eccentric, flamboyant side. Kay loved and took care of him, everything from his broken hearts to his hangovers.
Eventually Kaylin bought a duplex in Queens, and Felix got a steady job as “Felicia” in the drag review of “Victor/Victoria: Victorious!” but they still talked to each other regularly. Felix was wearing charcoal gray pants, a black, mock turtleneck and a matching scarf. He was lounging in a chair at one of the outside tables of a café in SoHo; the weather was unseasonably warm and Felix was primped like he was starring in a reality show.
He raised one eyebrow, “I am assuming that everything is OK with Kay, or else you would have told me over the phone right?” he asked noticing Ryan leaning across the table.
“I told her I loved her the last time I saw her,” Ryan said, “and she took off like a speeding bullet. Now I called her box office and they said she took the day off ‘for personal reasons.’” Felix’s eyes stared off, processing what Ryan had just told him. He had an idea what was going on, but it wasn’t his place to tell this story.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Felix commented, trying to keep the worry from his face. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“Do you really love her? You haven’t known each other very long.”
“I do. I can’t explain it, but being around her,” Felix waving his hand interrupted Ryan.
“I don’t need to hear about it. But if you do, if you really love her and want to run away and get married or whatever it is you breeders do, you need to know more about her.”
“I would, but I can’t get a hold of her,” Ryan sulked as the waiter came over and handed Felix the check; with a quick gesture, Felix pointed in Ryan’s direction and stood up. Ryan fished out money from his jeans pocket.
“You need to ask her about the scars,” Felix said dramatically and pulled his winter white parka about him, “and then tell her to call me.”
Chapter Eleven
But Ryan didn’t see Kay the next day, or even the next. He called her often and after the fourth day he called the theater. Elizabeth, the box office manager, said that Kay had taken the day off for “personal reasons” and she was sorry, but couldn’t tell him any more. Now he was worried. First she leaves within minutes of him confessing he loves her, now she was taking ‘personal days’ which was not something she had ever done before. Her friends made fun of her for it. She looked to him after they first teased her about it in front of him and said, “I’m trying for the perfect attendance award with Equity” and winked. She wasn’t being herself.
As Ryan disconnected the line he walked hurriedly to his own stage door and he had an idea.
As Ryan disconnected the line he walked hurriedly to his own stage door and he had an idea.
Chapter Ten
The next weeks flew by for them both. Kaylin had days of rehearsals and lessons, Ryan had begun the daily shows for the tourists flocking to New York for the start of the holidays. Thanksgiving had been spent together, neither of them could get away because of their work commitments, and Kaylin had revealed to him that both her parents had died when she was younger. When he offered his condolences she thanked him but waved them off, insisting that it was a long time ago and not worth crying over anymore.
His shows were mainly during the day, with the occasional dinner-time performance on the weekends, since it was a child-themed show. Kaylin’s rehearsals hadn’t entered into the grueling stage yet and she still had quite a few nights when she was home before nine. Those nights they spent together, getting take out food and watching movies. Sunday nights, however, was their night to go out, and go out they did; dancing, dinners, and even the occasional touristy museum or attraction. New York was an enchanting place over the winter holidays, especially when you are young and have someone in your life; Kaylin and Ryan enjoyed the time and each other, even as Kay got more and more withdrawn during their private time; her usual bubbly nature became more subdued as she immersed herself in her work.
More and more Ryan would wake up in the middle of the night and find her gone, sitting downstairs looking outside or just off into nothing. She always smiled warmly when he would come to find her, and insist she wasn’t sleeping because of work or worry about work, but her eyes avoided his as she said it.
One night, Ryan shouted out, “I love you,” as the throws of climax hit them both. Kaylin bucked back at him, shocked from his admission and overtaken with her own bodily response. Her back was to him, and he leaned down, kissing her along the scar that ran across her body. She jumped, disengaging herself and leapt to the bathroom down the hall before he could say or do anything. He silently cursed himself for choosing such an inappropriate time to announce to her what he’d been feeling since the moment she came sauntering to his table at that horrible club over a month ago. He scrambled out of the bed and pulled on a pair of light pajama pants, while padding down the hall after her.
"Kay?” he said to the closed door of the bathroom.
Kaylin was sitting on the toilet, not using the facilities so much as trying to see straight from what had just occurred. Her head was in her hands and as her eyes scanned the tiled floor into a blur of geometric shapes, she realized that she wasn’t in control of this anymore; she felt dizzy and out of sorts. This wasn’t a new feeling to her, but it was one that she had spared herself from for many, many years now.
She shook the thoughts from her head and grabbed at a tee shirt hanging precariously half in/half out of Ryan’s laundry hamper to her left. Pulling it over her head she went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at the person in the mirror. Had she been a stranger to herself since meeting Ryan? Since getting this role? Where was the Kaylin that knew her place in this world? Where was the Kaylin that kept her focus and her distance? Needing to feel grounded, humbled, she pulled her hair back and turned her head to the left and looked at the scar running down her neck; she twisted and saw the first few inches of the scar on her back. She was still her; she was still the same person she had always been. Just now she had a steady income; now she was going to be a star; now she was loved.
She heard Ryan’s knock and was startled away from her thoughts. She needed to go home.
Kaylin opened the door and flashed Ryan a shakey smile. “I gotta get going,” she said dancing around him and over to where her clothes lay in a heap by the sofa. “It’s Thursday, and you’ve got an early show and the producer is trying to do some sort of publicity stunt with me and Quinn tomorrow afternoon, so I’ve gotta get my beauty sleep.” She was babbling; cracking bad jokes and avoiding his eyes like they were the sun.
“Kay, what are you doing? Stop, Ok? Just,” she was dressed in a flash and trying to lace up a Nike when he came over and crouched down next to her, “just wait a minute. Tell me what’s really going on here.”
“Nothing!” she said quickly, picking up her fleece and heading for the door. “Call me tomorrow after your show. Hopefully we’ll be done by then.” She fumbled with the door before stopping. She flitted over to him and lightly kissed his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ok?” and with that she was gone.
His shows were mainly during the day, with the occasional dinner-time performance on the weekends, since it was a child-themed show. Kaylin’s rehearsals hadn’t entered into the grueling stage yet and she still had quite a few nights when she was home before nine. Those nights they spent together, getting take out food and watching movies. Sunday nights, however, was their night to go out, and go out they did; dancing, dinners, and even the occasional touristy museum or attraction. New York was an enchanting place over the winter holidays, especially when you are young and have someone in your life; Kaylin and Ryan enjoyed the time and each other, even as Kay got more and more withdrawn during their private time; her usual bubbly nature became more subdued as she immersed herself in her work.
More and more Ryan would wake up in the middle of the night and find her gone, sitting downstairs looking outside or just off into nothing. She always smiled warmly when he would come to find her, and insist she wasn’t sleeping because of work or worry about work, but her eyes avoided his as she said it.
One night, Ryan shouted out, “I love you,” as the throws of climax hit them both. Kaylin bucked back at him, shocked from his admission and overtaken with her own bodily response. Her back was to him, and he leaned down, kissing her along the scar that ran across her body. She jumped, disengaging herself and leapt to the bathroom down the hall before he could say or do anything. He silently cursed himself for choosing such an inappropriate time to announce to her what he’d been feeling since the moment she came sauntering to his table at that horrible club over a month ago. He scrambled out of the bed and pulled on a pair of light pajama pants, while padding down the hall after her.
"Kay?” he said to the closed door of the bathroom.
Kaylin was sitting on the toilet, not using the facilities so much as trying to see straight from what had just occurred. Her head was in her hands and as her eyes scanned the tiled floor into a blur of geometric shapes, she realized that she wasn’t in control of this anymore; she felt dizzy and out of sorts. This wasn’t a new feeling to her, but it was one that she had spared herself from for many, many years now.
She shook the thoughts from her head and grabbed at a tee shirt hanging precariously half in/half out of Ryan’s laundry hamper to her left. Pulling it over her head she went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at the person in the mirror. Had she been a stranger to herself since meeting Ryan? Since getting this role? Where was the Kaylin that knew her place in this world? Where was the Kaylin that kept her focus and her distance? Needing to feel grounded, humbled, she pulled her hair back and turned her head to the left and looked at the scar running down her neck; she twisted and saw the first few inches of the scar on her back. She was still her; she was still the same person she had always been. Just now she had a steady income; now she was going to be a star; now she was loved.
She heard Ryan’s knock and was startled away from her thoughts. She needed to go home.
Kaylin opened the door and flashed Ryan a shakey smile. “I gotta get going,” she said dancing around him and over to where her clothes lay in a heap by the sofa. “It’s Thursday, and you’ve got an early show and the producer is trying to do some sort of publicity stunt with me and Quinn tomorrow afternoon, so I’ve gotta get my beauty sleep.” She was babbling; cracking bad jokes and avoiding his eyes like they were the sun.
“Kay, what are you doing? Stop, Ok? Just,” she was dressed in a flash and trying to lace up a Nike when he came over and crouched down next to her, “just wait a minute. Tell me what’s really going on here.”
“Nothing!” she said quickly, picking up her fleece and heading for the door. “Call me tomorrow after your show. Hopefully we’ll be done by then.” She fumbled with the door before stopping. She flitted over to him and lightly kissed his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ok?” and with that she was gone.
Chapter Nine
Ryan was hanging her coat up on a hook beside his door when Kaylin slipped her arms around his waist; he could feel her breath on his neck, and it sent shivers down his body. He threw the deadbolt, lifted his arm and turned to face her. both his hands went to her waist, she touched his lips with her fingers, and brushed a kiss on his lips. His breathing was deep, trying to keep control of himself; his arms encircled her and pulled her up to him and he deepened the kiss, but he was cautious and careful to let her lead. They both sighed at the same time and she relaxed completely. Ryan released her mouth and let his lips slide down along her neck. There was another scar, running from behind her ear to the nape of her neck. He closed his eyes to it.
“Kaylin…” Ryan whispered soft along her ear, “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for, but I don’t want you to leave either.” Kaylin smiled and took a step back, looking him up and down, her top teeth biting down on her lip. She knew he was nervous she would run out as she had the other night, and his sensitivity warmed her heart in much the same way his kisses warmed other parts of her. He leaned down to embrace her gently, she was expecting him to grab and kiss her, but instead he kissed her pulse point below her ear, then he drew his mouth up to her face again, lightly touching his lips to hers. The kiss was chaste and questioning, as she parted her lips and allowed him to continue. His hand slid behind her, urging her closer, but not insisting, and she stepped forward of her own accord.
She chuckled at him and turned her head to see his face. “Ditto,” she said, and immediately she realized it was true. There as a wave of sadness that washed over her and she turned her back to him, allowing him to spoon her. “You aren’t coming on too strong, Ryan. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
He nuzzled his face into her hair and pulled her closer to him; he ran his fingers along the curve of her body. There was another long scar across her back, from her ribcage snaking its way to the base of her spine. Her body was scarred in the strangest ways and he would ask about them later, but for now his mind had set its course on something else.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve done this,” he paused a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He felt foolish with what he was about to say, but the intensity of what had just occurred made him move forward in his thoughts, “I would like you to,”, “be my girl.” There was a pause and then they both cracked with laughter.
“Are you asking me to go steady?” she commented through her giggles. He tickled her sides and she jerked, and rolled to her back. He moved his body down and rested his chin on her stomach.
“Yeah. Yeah I am,” he said in all seriousness.
“Kaylin…” Ryan whispered soft along her ear, “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for, but I don’t want you to leave either.” Kaylin smiled and took a step back, looking him up and down, her top teeth biting down on her lip. She knew he was nervous she would run out as she had the other night, and his sensitivity warmed her heart in much the same way his kisses warmed other parts of her. He leaned down to embrace her gently, she was expecting him to grab and kiss her, but instead he kissed her pulse point below her ear, then he drew his mouth up to her face again, lightly touching his lips to hers. The kiss was chaste and questioning, as she parted her lips and allowed him to continue. His hand slid behind her, urging her closer, but not insisting, and she stepped forward of her own accord.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Kaylin,” Ryan crooned, “my God, Kaylin.” Their bodies were glistening with sweat and the sound of both their hearts racing thumped in their ears. “I don’t want to come off too strong, but I have never had sex like that in my life.”She chuckled at him and turned her head to see his face. “Ditto,” she said, and immediately she realized it was true. There as a wave of sadness that washed over her and she turned her back to him, allowing him to spoon her. “You aren’t coming on too strong, Ryan. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
He nuzzled his face into her hair and pulled her closer to him; he ran his fingers along the curve of her body. There was another long scar across her back, from her ribcage snaking its way to the base of her spine. Her body was scarred in the strangest ways and he would ask about them later, but for now his mind had set its course on something else.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve done this,” he paused a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He felt foolish with what he was about to say, but the intensity of what had just occurred made him move forward in his thoughts, “I would like you to,”, “be my girl.” There was a pause and then they both cracked with laughter.
“Are you asking me to go steady?” she commented through her giggles. He tickled her sides and she jerked, and rolled to her back. He moved his body down and rested his chin on her stomach.
“Yeah. Yeah I am,” he said in all seriousness.
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