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"
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