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.”