::TWENTY SIX::
I sat out there for a while running through several different ways to ask her, turning the ring over and over in my hands. The more I said it, the less nervous I felt until I sat with my elbows resting on my knees holding her ring. Hers. Jeanette. Who I wanted to marry, who I wanted to be my wife.
I still have an hour or so before I can see her. I thought that I would get more nervous the closer it got, but just being able to say it out loud relaxed me, the weight of the ring box in my pocket again calming me. Like every other concern is gone, and I don’t have to worry about anything else. In my heart it’s clear. Maybe because I’ve watched Jeanette, when we made love, when we talked, all the time when we’re together. She loves me, fully and completely. There is a small part of me that fears she’ll say no, how could there not be, but everything now feels inevitable. Like there is nothing else I could do but ask her.
She’ll be done in an hour, so I look around the house, noticing that I need to pick up milk and coffee, do laundry. Little things that I wouldn’t have noticed if Jeanette wasn’t with me. I change my shirt and get cleaned up, managing to only take up another few minutes. How relaxed I am now with the ring in my pocket hasn’t affected the time any, it still drags on. I miss her, the sound of her, in my house. I miss making her coffee and sitting out back to drink with her. I miss watching tv with her. I miss being in bed with her.
Her pillow still smells like her, like strawberries and that scent underneath that’s just Jeanette. Five past three. Lying back on the bed to wait before going to pick her up, tucking an arm behind my head. I wish my clock was quieter, every second distinct with a tiny click. When I’m with her there never seems to be any concept of time, except that there isn’t enough of it. Without her, waiting for her, it’s an eternity.
Pulling Jeanette’s pillow under my head, I take her ring out again to play with it, leaving the velvet box open on my belly. I haven’t even given it to her yet, and I’m already thinking of it as hers. A rainbow of colour travels over the ceiling as the light from the window reflects off its facets, moving as I play with it.
Will she take off her wedding band first, before she lets me put the ring on her finger? It sounds so strange to think of her taking that off first, but she can’t wear them both, can she? John’s ring AND mine? No, she definitely can’t wear them both. I’ve accepted that she was married, and I know why she still wears the ring, but I think I would have a hard time accepting her wearing another man’s ring while she wore mine as well. The flash of irrational jealousy surprises me.
I’ve never taken Stacy’s ring off either for that matter. I can’t very well go on wearing it, when my heart belongs to Jeanette. Especially not when I ask her to marry me. I don’t think Jeanette would ever ask me to take it off either. She just wouldn’t, it’s not who she is. She wouldn’t want to hurt me. But would she be hurt? If I kept wearing it, would it hurt her? It made me jealous to think of her wearing John’s ring, so yeah, I would have to say it would hurt her.
I put her ring down, to trace a finger over my own wedding band, twisting it absently around my finger, running my thumb over it’s surface. I want to close my eyes, to not watch as I do it, thinking maybe it would be easier. I couldn’t even blink when Stacy put the ring on my finger, the ring that said not only to her but to everyone, that I belonged to Stacy. I didn’t want to miss anything. I wanted to remember it forever. Stacy is gone forever, and I have to let her go, or I can never be Jeanette’s, not fully. I have to let her go.
It feels strange not to wear it. I had thought that this, taking my ring off, like thinking of Jeanette, kissing Jeanette, making love to Jeanette, would feel like betrayal but it doesn’t. It just feels strange, the white mark underneath the band, as though a part of the ring has left itself there.
If she does say yes to me, I’ll have to leave it off, because at some point I’ll wear Jeanette’s ring, one she slips on my finger that will make me hers, forever. It feels even stranger to put Stacy’s ring back on, like something happened to it when I took it off, like something changed. If I left it off, Jeanette would ask about it, and I’m not quite ready for that yet. Another week, and I’ll ask her.
Three thirty. Her daughter’s beautiful smiling face looks back at me from the nightstand beside the clock. Putting Jeanette’s ring back in my pocket I pick up the picture, kissing her face, before putting it back where it was. “Keep my secret a little while longer, Emily.”
She’s waiting outside for me when I pull up, at a little before four o’clock. I had picked up milk and coffee, and drove around for a while trying to kill time when all I really wanted to do was drive straight to her work, even if all I could do was sit and wait for her. A quick breathless greeting is all either of us can manage, the kiss immediately deep and passionate, as we stood on the steps outside the bookstore.
It felt like forever before we came up for air, my hands playing with her hair, pulling her even closer to me if that were possible. “I missed you.”
Her answer is a soft murmuring sound as though kissing her took away her ability to speak. Standing on her toes on the step, her arms sliding over my shoulders around my neck, pulling her body taut along my chest. Our noses just touching, the dark black fan of her lashes flicker against her cheek as she kisses me again, softly this time. “I thought about you all day, Sean.”
The weight of the ring in my pocket presses between us. Yes, I’ve thought about her all day too. My hands cup her face, the intensity of that one question between us filling my heart to the point where it might burst. Now that I know I’m going to ask her, that I know there is no doubt, that it’s inevitable, I’m not nervous any longer. I feel contented just touching her, in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible. I would be happy for the rest of my life just to stay like this.
Dan comes out of the bookstore behind Jeanette, locking up. Jeanette turns a little, to say goodbye to him. I shake Dan’s hand again, without letting go of her. He’s wishing us well, and telling us to have a great vacation, taking a moment to look from Jeanette to me and back again, before smiling broadly. Telling us again that we make a good looking couple. I guess we do.
Jeanette lets out a soft mischievous giggle. “I dropped coffee cups all day.”
“You still need to pack, ‘Nette.” I was already grinning, but if I wasn’t, the thought of her flustered enough to drop things would make me grin at her. I bury my face in her neck, nipping her gently, thinking about how she made me feel all day.
Getting untangled finally we make our way up the stairs to her apartment to pack. She kicks her shoes off, letting down the rest of her hair from the tangle I left it in. “I’ve never really had much here, I could make you maybe a cup of tea or something…” Her voice trails off as she looks back at me, already making myself comfortable across her bed.
“You don’t have to. We can pick up something later.” My stomach growls at me hungrily, reminding me that whatever I did have to eat today was hours ago, and didn’t stay down very long. She grins at me, the sound hard to hide in her tiny apartment. “I’ll make this as quick and painless as I can, Sean.”
“You don’t have to rush, I like watching you, ‘Nette.” Lying on my side, braced on my elbow, I watch her as she sets about packing for the week ahead. She relaxes a little, grinning at me. She packs light. A couple of skirts and shirts. Reaching into a bottom drawer to pull out a hoody. “You could wear mine…” She looks over at me, our faces upside down for a moment, before stuffing the hoody back into the drawer, breaking into a grin.
“Good. You know I may end up claiming them all, just so you know.”
I don’t answer, I couldn’t, so I grin at her. She can have everything she wants, I’d give her anything, everything. She moves her bag up onto the dresser, before I can make a move to help her. Smirking at my uncoordinated move to get off the bed to lift it, her smirk turning into a soft smile as I make myself comfortable again. She’s standing in front of her closet, her hand running over her clothes, her lip flicking out before taking in her bottom lip again. I love watching her do that.
“I..I hadn’t even really asked you about plans…Will we be going anywhere I’d have to look nice for?” She hasn’t stopped poking at her clothes, as though expecting that the right thing will just appear.
“You look nice all the time, ‘Nette.” She isn’t surprised that I’ve said it, it’s just that the compliment was unexpected I guess. Caught off guard she turns to me, her eyes wide, thanking me without saying a word, before blushing and dropping her head again.
“I’d like to take you to dinner somewhere nice.” Given all the direction she needed, she quickly pulls a dress out from her closet. Looking at me almost shyly before holding it up against her, as if trying to see if she really should wear it. It’s such a simple thing, to watch a woman pick something to wear. I can see her so clearly, in my own bedroom, doing the same thing. She’s not asking for my approval, I can’t imagine a woman ever really would, I know Stacy didn’t. But I think they like it when we do, so I watch her hold the beautiful tiny black dress in front of her, facing the narrow full length mirror on the back of her closet door. I nod, just enough so that she can see me in the reflection, her own wide smile answering back as she finds a way to pack the dress, finding a pair of heels to wear with them.
Her apartment is so tiny that I can hear her laughing quietly in the bathroom, after she was done finding clothes to wear. She comes out with a small bag holding a few more things from her bathroom. “I’ll have to pack the rest at your house, Sean.” She has most of the things she’d need everyday at my house already. I’m glad she can laugh at that a little.
“Grab a movie, ‘Nette.” I stopped her as she was passing her small tv, knowing that all I wanted to do tonight was curl up with her.
She stops, letting out a small snort of laughter. “I think almost all my movies are at your house already.” She’s leaning over gracefully, her hand running over the few remaining titles she has remaining, holding up one for me, and putting it down beside her when I nod to her that it’s fine, before looking for more.
“Is that such a bad thing?” I hadn’t intended to sound so serious, or maybe I had and just didn’t know it. The room, already quiet, grows quieter between us. I should be nervous, but I’m not. I love her, so deeply it hurts, and I want her with me. My thigh shifts slightly, the velvet ring box a heavy weight in my pocket.
She takes a step towards me, her face as serious as mine. I know she’s nervous, as she nibbles at her bottom lip, her fingers worrying at the hem of her shirt. “Is that a bad thing, Sean?”
She’s not asking about the movies anymore. She never was, but then again, neither was I. “I love that your stuff is in my house. I love that YOU are in my house.”
Her head drops, as she blushes furiously, unable to answer for a moment, before looking up to me, maybe to see if I’m really as serious as I look. Picking the dvd’s off the floor and holding onto them tightly, as though she isn’t sure what to do with her hands. Tucking her hair behind her ear, all of this in a mere second, but it felt like forever. Her small nervous laugh as she looks back at the nearly empty dvd shelf. “If we keep doing this, everything here will end up at your house anyway.”
She looks at the shelf again, before sitting on the edge of the bed, still hanging on to the movies she’s grabbed. Her knuckles are nearly white. “So move in with me, ‘Nette.”
Her eyes watch me carefully from beneath the dark fans of her lashes, looking for insincerity. I sit up and move behind her, my body wrapping easily around hers. “I love you Jeanette. I love you. I want to wake up beside you every morning, and fall asleep beside you every night.” My words are whispered into the skin of her neck, my eyes closed, knowing in my heart just how much I mean them, and what her saying yes means to me. “You don’t have to do anything right away, but I want you with me, I love you being with me. I’m not playing with your feelings, Jeanette.” I cup her chin, turning her to face me, her eyelashes flutter for a moment, as she watches me. “Don’t rush, don’t answer. Stay with me Jeanette.”
Her eyes darken with the intensity of her emotions. My thumb traces over the white mark of her lip, where her teeth nibble, pressed hard enough to nearly make her bleed. She isn’t breathing, but I don’t think I am either, and I’m still not nervous even though I should be. Even though I thought I would be. Inevitable. “You want me to live with you?”
Her voice is so quiet, asking with her whole soul while she watches me. I could tell her over and over how much I love her, and what she means to me. That I miss her smell and the sound of her voice in my house. That it feels empty, that I feel empty when she’s not there. “Yes, I do.” All I can do is watch her, and let her know what’s in my heart that way.
She takes a deep breath, fighting with it like her body doesn’t want to let her breathe. Pulling hard enough at the hem of her shirt that a stitch pops, and then another. She doesn’t notice. “I….um …could.” Another deep breath, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear, turning to look at me again, her eyes holding mine again. “We could when we get back..maybe?”
Her voice is tiny and unsure, nervous. I can’t blame her, it’s a big limb to step out on. “I’ll never let you down, or hurt you, ‘Nette. When we get back, if you want to, I’d like you to live with me, to be with me.” Everything in the room disappears as we watch each other, holding each other with our eyes. The weight of that one final question has set me free in a way I would never have thought possible, wiping away any trace of fear or doubt. If I hadn’t set in motion plans to ask her, I would ask her now, but I want to wait, for the right time so it will be perfect.
I lean in to kiss her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath the touch, my arms slipping around her waist to pull her tighter to me. Feeling her breath hitch once before she relaxes in my arms. Her voice calm and deep again, quiet, her words spoken to herself as much as for me. “When we get back then….”
I held her like that until my own heart stopped racing, held her too tight, I know, but she didn’t mind. “Let’s go home, ‘Nette.” My house didn’t feel like a home until now, right now.
I carry her things down to the car, half in a daze, grinning as she sits in the front seat holding the milk and coffee in her lap. Something so normal. I remember us shopping, picking up groceries. All of the small things people do when they’re together. When they’re married. I could get used to doing that with Jeanette, maybe that sounds boring or dull, but I love doing things like that with her.
I want to ask her so many things, all at once. So many that I can’t say anything at all, and hold her hand instead, as we drive back home, stopping to pick up dinner on the way. I’m not nervous any more.
She helped me pack when we got in, after she changed into a pair of pajamas. I stayed still for a moment, just watching her, as she sat cross legged on the edge of the bed, hugging the sweatshirt I gave her. Even if she hadn’t officially moved in yet, she belonged here, she belonged in my house, and she belonged with me. I dropped the shirt I was holding, and walked over to stand in front of her.
There’s a small part of me that wants to make love to her, right here, but that’s only a part of what I feel. Dropping to my knees on the floor in front of her, leaning forward to put my head in her lap, wrapping my arms around her waist. Her hand, unsure and unsteady at first, strokes over my stubble. Neither of us says anything. I know I wouldn’t know where to begin, everything would come tumbling out, so I say nothing and just hold her, while she holds me.
I ignore the loud growling of my stomach, even when it starts to make Jeanette laugh. Looking up at her finally, my hands on either side of her hips, watching the gold sparks float deep in her eyes. Her hands reach out to cup my jaw, her fingertips tickling the sensitive skin under my ears. “I love you Sean, but you’re going to starve to death, unless I let you go.”
“I don’t want to ever let you go, ‘Nette.” The kiss is soft, like melting, like surrender. As though telling her with a kiss everything I felt in my heart. When we finally come up for air, pulling back just a little, I know she feels the same without her saying a word.
I let out a deep contented sigh as I get up, pulling her up with me. Needing to keep touching her, I leave my hand on her back, as I pull the blanket off the bed, so we can curl up on the couch.
I can’t remember what I ate, or what movies we watched. Everything faded into the background, as we lay spooned together on the couch, underneath the blanket. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t make love. We lay still, in the quiet that took over the house after the movie ended, shutting it off when all that was left was silence. What little light there is outside is brighter through the living room window, the moonlight falling in pale silver patterns across the floor. Her lids are heavy, as she slowly fell asleep in my arms, my thumb stroking over the sensitive skin at her temples making that easier. That one moment right before sleep took her, as she looked at me, and I knew, really knew, that I meant as much to her as she did to me. It wasn’t as though her feelings were something she hid, I think I was just a little afraid to look so deeply before. A whisper against her skin, after I know she’s already asleep. “Marry me, Jeanette.”
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