“There’s nothing boring or regular about you.” He sighs and shakes his head. I know he’s thinking about our fight over the jet plane. There’s an echo of it in this conversation. In so many of our talks recently. Is it because he’sfamous or do all couples have this conflict when they get married? This push and pull of how does “me” and “you” turning into an “us” fundamentally change who we are?
“How was your day?” Caleb asks, abruptly changing the subject.
“Well,” I say and then hesitate, debating how much to tell him about Skylar and Hannah. “I met a couple of your fans at the airport today.” I think I’m doing a good job of keeping my tone neutral, but Caleb knows me too well.
“Were they mean to you?” he asks, immediately on the defense.
“Not too bad.” It’s alarming how easily the lie slips out. I justify it by telling myself that I’m protecting him. Saving him from the stress of worrying about me. “They asked a couple of personal questions, but I deflected.”
There’s a stubborn set to his jaw. “This is what I was talking about, why I wanted you to take the jet.”
“You can’t protect me, Caleb. You can’t lock me up in a tower like Rapunzel.”
“Why not?” he argues. “Why can’t I put you in emotional bubble wrap, so you don’t get hurt?” A tiny hitch in his voice, so quiet most people would miss it. “I would have loved that, if someone had done it for me when I was younger.”
That gets to me. I flash back to a photo that sits on the mantle in his mother’s house. Seven-year-old Caleb getting his first star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Grinning with his front teeth missing. A gap-tooth smile that would fool most people, including his mom since she proudly displays it. It didn’t trick me, though. I saw how the light didn’t reach his aqua eyes. How those baby cheeks didn’t fully round out.
It’s merged in his mind, young him and me. He wants to save me, but there’s a shadow behind me he’s also protecting. That of his younger self. I understand his pain, and I empathize with it, but it’s not logical. I can’t live my life trying to heal hurts so deeply buried that they may never scab over.
“Because that’s not sustainable,” I say as gently as I can manage. “I have a life. A job. I don’t want to live in your tower. No matter how fancy it is.”
“What if I’m in the tower with you?” he asks, so plaintively it makes me want to cry.
“That makes it better,” I tell him, further softening my voice, “but we have responsibilities. Goals we each want to accomplish.”
There’s an extra-long silence after that. So long that I ask, “What are you thinking about right now?”
“Nothing,” he answers way too quickly.
Uncertainty sinks its teeth into me. This isn’t what I’m used to. Caleb and I share everything. I can usually guess what’s on his mind just by looking at him, but he’s opaque to me now, and I’m hiding too. Is it because we’re apart?
Unease stirs in my stomach. “What else went on today?”
He tells me about lunch, all that he learned about his grandfather and why his mom wanted to move away.
I tuck the comforter over my legs. “Your poor mother. It sounds like going to L.A. was what she needed. I’m impressed by how much she’s opening up to you.”
“It’s better now, with her.” He laughs ruefully. “It only took us 30 years, but I think we’re finally figuring out how this whole mother-son relationship is supposed to work.”
“Well, I’m glad. I wish my mom would work on things with me,” I say, thinking about the sometimes good and sometimes contentious way my mother and I interact.
I straighten, suddenly remembering Wayne and Alvina. “Caleb! You’re never going to believe what I just saw.”
He hears the excitement in my voice. “What?”
“Wayne and Alvina are in a relationship!”
“Really?” His jaw unhinges, and he sputters.
I relay everything I witnessed. It’s satisfying to see that his shock matches my own. “You didn’t know?”
He shakes his head. “No. I had no idea. What’re you going to do? Confront them?”
I twirl a lock of long, blonde hair around my finger, a habit I picked up from Jenny. “I think so? I’m not sure. Why’re they keeping it a secret?”
“Probably embarrassed. Remember when they met at that karaoke bar? They both made a big deal about how they weren’t interested.”
“Alvina said she wasn’t interested,” I correct him. “Wayne was the opposite, like he was definitely into the idea.”
