He was different. Now he was…
He was…
He was a hurricane. Fire. Rain splashing a window. Sand blown up by the wind. Sweet wine. Chocolate melting on your tongue. Sunlight. Words spoken on the porch. The savor of a kiss. Throaty laughter. The soft touch of fingers on skin. Music, silence, air. Heartbeats.
That was the alcohol talking. I’d never been able to hold my liquor.
Late at night, we went back to the car and Trey drove to Fitzroy Hall, a handsome bed-and-breakfast where he’d reserved two rooms.
Lying down, I thought to myself that it had been a perfect night. I realized that there was so much more to being alive than I’d thought about. Life meant talking, laughing, listening, smelling, tasting. Touch. New experiences.
The next morning, we got up late, had breakfast, gathered our things, and went to the car. I was curious, questions dancing on the tip of my tongue, and it was getting harder and harder to hold them back.
“You ready?” Trey asked me.
I nodded, feeling excited.
I watched the city speed by as we left it behind on the highway. The sky was clear, and the sun was hot through the windshield. It’s strange how things change sometimes. And how others never do. Everything I felt was still too intense—the good and the bad. I was diving into my feelings as if into a deep pool, reaching the bottom,holding my breath. Sometimes the pressure vanished and I could breathe again, but sometimes I was trapped down there for days.
An idea occurred to me just then, a thought loud as thunder: my decision was going to have consequences, direct and indirect ones. People would react to it, and I didn’t know how to face their reactions.
“You’re quiet,” Trey said. I turned to him and nodded. “A penny for your thoughts?” he continued.
“You’ll have to do better than that. A penny won’t get you much nowadays.”
“Fine, name your price. Just let me know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I took off my sandals, curled my legs up in the seat, and hugged my knees.
“I just keep thinking about how I’m about to become the owner of a small independent bookstore, and I don’t even know if I can pay the bills. And how I picked that over being someone.”
“You are someone. And you’re not just going to be the adorable owner of a cute little bookstore, you’re also going to be a professional writer, and one day when you’re rich and famous and millions of people are buying your books, you’ll realize you did the right thing.”
I felt almost embarrassed at his inexplicable faith in me. “I hope so, because my father’s going to disinherit me. I’ll be exiled from the family home and probably forced to change my last name.”
“You really think he won’t support you?” Trey asked, unsure whether or not I was being serious.
“I know he won’t.”
“I mean, I get that at first it will be hard for him to accept. Itisa big change. But when he sees how happy you are…”
I shook my head. “No, Trey. My relationship with my father is complicated. He rarely agrees with what I do or how I do it.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged and started gnawing at a little strip of dead skin on my lower lip.
“I don’t know.” He reached over and clutched my hand, and his fingers touched the bare flesh of my thighs, but intimate as the gesture was, I didn’t bat him away. “I’ve always wanted to take the reins in my life, but in the end, I back down. I’ve never managed to take the last step. I’ve never known how, or maybe I have, but I was too busy worrying about what other people would think to consider my own needs and desires. That’s the truth. And having him constantly in my head held me back because my father’s never approved of anything about me. There’s no making him happy. At least I never have and I doubt I ever will, and as long as I can’t, he’ll go on treating me like the worst mistake he’s ever made.”
“I had no idea. Your brother and sister never mentioned that.”
I forced a smile and turned to him. This was the first time I’d been honest with anyone about it. “It’s different for them, you know? I love Hoyt and Hayley, but I can’t help envying them, too, even hating them a little when I see how well they get along with him. I’d have done anything, literally anything, to connect with my father, even just once. But I’m over it. I’m too tired to keep trying.”
“I’m so sorry, Harper. I had no idea things were like that.”
“No! It’s fine! I’m fine!” I tried to be more enthusiastic than I actually felt. “I’ve been following my plan B for years without ever even trying my plan A. Well, now that’s over. I want to do what I’ve always dreamed of: write. Write as if each page might be the last one I wrote before I died.”
He didn’t respond, and I didn’t need him to, and him knowing I didn’t need it thrilled me. He slowed down and came to a stop on the shoulder, leaving the motor running. And that man who had burst into my life unexpectedly and had made me believe in my dreams bent so close to me I could feel the heat in his exhalations.
