I feel like a trespasser, but I want to soak up as much of Henry as I can.It’s my last chance to beinhis life.
Action figures clutter the coffee table in the living room.He uses the same desk from his childhood bedroom with the ink stain on the left corner where one of my pens leaked over my hands and dribbled onto the surface—Maggie wasn’t happy.It’s crowded with papers and books, mostly historical tomes about local lore and legends.A carved blue jay seems to stare up at me from a composition book, which sits closed with a pen sticking out of it.I don’t intrude, though a sneaky part of me wants to.
I turn from the desk, and my breath hitches at the framed prints over his red sofa.First, the black and white ink drawing I created of two crows squawking outside Henry’s bedroom window one morning hangs in the middle.I recall sitting at his desk, watching them as he slept near me.When he woke up and came over to see what caught my interest, he laughed and said,“Vee, two crows… It’s an attempted murder.”I couldn’t stop laughing because, technically, the group would need a party of three to be described as a murder.
I gave him the eight-by-ten drawing a few days later withAn Attempted Murder of Crowswritten in delicate handwriting across the bottom.He handed it back to me.“Vee, an artist is supposed to sign her work.”
I thought to debate him—I’m no artist.I’m a scientist.But his coy grin convinced me to let it go.
I lean closer to the framed drawing to see my scribbledVBin the bottom corner.
I’m stunned he kept it, let alone framed it.Stunned that it now hangs over his sofa along with two of my other artful gifts: the robin’s nest with three eggs we found on a low-hanging branch when I finally got him to climb a live oak tree in the woods, and Frank the Frog, the inspiration for his tattoo.
Tears cloud my eyes as I remember his promise to keep Frank always—he did, twice over.Kept promises are a sign of love, not anger or disappointment.Regret swirls for the promises I couldn’t keep to him.
A familiar current of unwanted energy courses through me, making my hands fist at my sides.I don’t know how to feel about any of this—that my art hangs on his walls and is inked into his chest, that we shared such an incredible night, that I’m here at all.That he’s not.
I turn toward his worn leather chair, with my dress hanging over the side, my underwear and socks neatly folded, my boots on the floor, and my phone tucked inside; my foggy understanding becomes clear.
One night meantone night.It’s the morning.I need to leave.
I should commend him for avoiding an awkward and emotional goodbye.This is probably best.Still, as I scurry to get dressed, tug on my boots, and collect my jewelry from his bedside table, I feel disappointed not to have the morning with him, at least.
But that wasn’t the agreement.
I make the bed and fold his shirt to leave neatly for him.But catching his clean, minty scent on it, I hold it to my face and reconsider.Would he miss it?I pull it over my dress, deciding that I deserve a treasure, since he has so many from me.
Walking through the apartment, I hunt for excuses not to go.What about the garden?What about a goodbye?What about that vague promise to talklaterthat he mentioned last night?But anything more would complicate what I promised would be simple.Last night’s experiment can’t work if I linger.
So, ignoring what my heart wants, I do what’s best for us both and leave.
CHAPTER17
Henry
I meetDerek in the grassy patch near the bakery, where Pepper lazily roams as far as his leash will allow.
“Pepper’s early-morning wake-up calls are going to be the death of me,” Derek quips as I hand him a coffee from the bakery.“It’s worse than having a baby.”
My brow cocks at the comparison.“At least you don’t have to change diapers.”
“Yet,” he counters with a laugh.“Pepper won’t be young forever.Oh, but you might be if you keep having nights like that.Look at you.”
Derek glances me over, waving his long fingernails over me like they might be giving me a body scan.“Oh, my… someone got lucky last night.Your reunion with Venus went very, very well.”
A sheepish laugh rumbles from me.“You can’t possibly know that.”
His lips purse.“Honey, I know the difference between everyday Henry and the Henry who’s just had his mind blown, partly because this is the first time I’ve seen him.Was it that good?”
I lean against the railing, trying to fight my flushing cheeks, but failing.“It was everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.Venus adores you—it was all over her perfect little face.And you adore her, too.The looks you were giving each other reminded me of my early days with Tyler—ah, that man still delights my very soul, even after twenty years.I never would’ve become DeeDee without him.”
“What do you mean?”
Derek shrugs and twiddles the leash in his hands.“That’s the best thing about love—the freedom to be whatever you want to be.Even if the world hates you, your soulmate stands by you.A blanket in the cold.An umbrella in the rain.A shelter in the storm.Love is freedom.If not for Tyler, I don’t think I would’ve been brave enough to become DeeDee.I knew he’d love me whether I wore a suit or a dress, whether I failed or succeeded, or, hell, even if he had to call me by two different names depending on my outfit.He still fumbles that bit on occasion, but that’s okay.”
He laughs, and I join in with an appreciative chuckle.“What if someone believes she’s a cactus when she’s a sunflower?”
