Deep Surrendering (Episode Three) (4 page)

“Will you stay?” I asked a while later. “Please stay with me.”

He exhaled, ruffling my hair. “I don’t know, Mari. It’s been … kind of an intense night. I don’t know if I should. I don’t know if I can.” He shifted and I moved away from him, despite wanting to cling to him like a barnacle and force him to stay.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. Or the couch. And it’s already tomorrow. So really, you’re only staying with me today.” I was going to pay dearly for staying up this late with him, but I could sleep later.

“I’m not really that tired,” he said. “So sleep isn’t really a problem. You can have the bed, I’m sure you’re exhausted.” He was pulling away from me again.

“If you’re not comfortable staying, you can go if you want.”

The inner struggle was evident on his face. “No, I want to stay. I do. I’m not going to run again.” He sat back and pulled me toward him.

“Are you sure?” Funny that we could have such intimate moments but were skittish about something like spending the night.

“Yes. I’m sure. No more running. But I’m sure you have a busy day tomorrow, and I don’t want to keep you up.”

“No, it’s okay. I can power nap during the day.” I tried to swallow a yawn and failed.

“I’m not going to bed, even if you leave,” I said, getting to my feet. “But I am going to need some coffee. You want any? French vanilla creamer?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” I went to the kitchen and started the coffee. Fin got up from the couch and stood in front of my photographs, and I was reminded of the first time he came to my place, just a short time ago.

“I really love this picture. It’s got so much life in it,” he said, pointing to the one with the little girl in the park. “She reminds me of you. I can picture you this way. Free.”

“Well, my parents didn’t really like me running around. They were all ‘children should be seen and not heard.’ Well, at least my mother was. My dad was more lenient.” Talking about my parents wasn’t easy, but at least it got the conversation ball rolling.

“My parents didn’t like me running around either,” he said in a flat voice, and I knew there was much more to that story. Reading between the lines, I was sure that some form of abuse had taken place in his home. What kind and to what degree, I didn’t know. But it had happened.

The coffee ready, I poured two cups and then added the French vanilla creamer. I didn’t care that he’d said he didn’t want coffee. He was getting it anyway.

He still had his eyes locked on the photograph, as if he was in a trance.

“Fin?” He jumped and almost crashed into me. Good thing I wasn’t standing close enough for him to bump and spill the coffee.

“I brought you some anyway.” I handed him the cup and he wrapped his hands around it, as if he was cold.

“Thanks.”

“You here with me? Or are you somewhere far away?” He blinked a few times and then sipped the coffee.

“I’m back. Just lost in the moment, I guess.” His smile reached his eyes this time and we sat back on the couch together.

He’d shared something from his childhood, so I felt like it was my turn. I tried to think of something he’d relate to. “I remember once, when I was seven, my parents were having this huge dinner party. Well, they were always having them, but this one was huge because some famous politician was coming or something. I don’t even remember who. So, of course, I was told to stay in my room and amuse myself and not make any noise. And, of course, I waited until the party started and then snuck out of my room and hid at the top of the stairs and watched them. I was so mad at them for making me miss it. Everyone was all dressed up and draped in diamonds and pearls, and their hair was perfect and I just remember thinking, ‘someday I want to look like that.’ And here I am, and the thought of having to sit through the mindless small talk of those parties and pretend to be nice to people I don’t know and don’t care about makes me want to hurl.” I almost said “kill myself,” but was able to pull it back before it came out.

I meant the story to be a funny childhood anecdote, but it turned into something else.

“And I’m sorry about that story. Didn’t meant to take things to a less-than-happy place again.” I sipped my coffee, which was now at the perfect drinking temperature.

“That’s okay, Mari. Sometimes childhoods aren’t all balloons and chasing leaves in the park,” he said, moving a little closer to me.

“It wasn’t all bad. I told you about my grandmother. She made it wonderful. I loved seeing her on weekends and getting into trouble that my parents wouldn’t let me get into,” I said. “And you? Any happy memories from your childhood?” I was pushing him again, but I didn’t think he was going to run.

“Ah, let’s see.” He thought for a while, and I wondered if it was hard for him to find a happy memory, or if he was just trying to choose the right one.

“When I was eight, my parents threw a party for the company. It was one of those dreadful theme events, completely over the top and ostentatious. I don’t even remember what the theme was, but there was an elephant and they were giving rides. My parents had allowed me to attend for an hour or so, just to parade me out and show what a happy family we were.” His smile was grim.

“So I was allowed to ride the elephant once. The handler picked me up and put me on the elephant’s back in this little seat, and I remember being terrified of being so high. I had a fear of heights at the time, but having the giant animal under me somehow was comforting. And then he moved and I lurched forward, and I thought I was going to die. I probably screamed and then the elephant kept moving and I was powerless to stop him. And then I looked up and saw everything stretched out in front of me and how small my father and my grandfather looked. I was looking down at them, for the first time.”

He stopped and then shrugged one shoulder. “It was probably the last time I would ever really look down on them.” Now I wanted to hug him again.

“Well, this is a night for morbid stories, isn’t it?” I said with a bit of a laugh.

“Seems so. But I feel … okay telling you about that. I’ve never told anyone that particular story.” Not one of the girls he’d hired? I thought about asking, but decided not to. I didn’t want to talk about them. I wanted to talk about him.

I shared another story, this one about a cat I had that had died and my parents had tried to replace it with a nearly identical cat, hoping I wouldn’t notice.

We talked until the sun started peeking over the horizon and the day began.

I paid dearly for my night spent with Fin the next day, and I barely made it through classes and my charity meeting. But it wasn’t all bad news. I’d found a tent company and persuaded them to rent it to us for free for the Adopt-A-Pet day for the Animal Rescue League of Boston charity event. I’d also gotten an email from one of my regular clients who wanted to host a candle party as part of a bridal shower, so at least I’d be making some money this week.

But hovering in the back of my mind was the knowledge that Fin would be leaving on Friday. He refused to tell me what time his flight left, but I was determined to find out and also accompany him to the airport.

I called Chloe in the early afternoon. I was hopped up on too much coffee and anxiety over Fin.

“Oh my God, you’re alive,” she said, making me want to roll my eyes.

“Chlo, it’s only been twenty-four hours since I last texted you.” I loved her, but she definitely liked keeping close tabs on me.

“I know, but you’ve been hanging out with Fin and I need to have details. Plus, I miss you when you’re gone, and I don’t have anyone to talk to. What are you doing right now?” That was a lot to process before I could answer.

“I know. I miss you too, Chlo. Um, see you maybe tomorrow? I could squeeze in a quick lunch. Or, you could be my hero and come to my candle party and be my assistant.” She’d done it before and had proven herself a fantastic salesperson.

“Can I say yes to both?”

“Absolutely. Listen, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow at 12? Eddie’s?” It was our favorite sandwich place just off-campus.

“You’re on.”

I hung up and headed to the library to get some work done. My plan was to put as much off until after Fin had left because I was probably going to need a mental distraction, and homework would be perfect to accomplish that when he was gone.

But for right now I did the bare minimum to get by.

We were seeing each other tonight, and I hoped I’d make it there awake. He was used to staying up all night, but I could only go a day or two without proper sleep. Then I crashed.

Downing my umpteenth cup of coffee, I got down to work, wondering if I could tape my eyelids open.

Fin arrived at my door that evening as fresh and crisp as if he’d had a full night’s sleep, but I knew he hadn’t. He’d had a full day of work just like me.

“How do you look this good?” I asked as he handed me another bouquet of lilacs.

He just smiled in response to my question and then produced a clear glass purple vase from his other hand.

“I remembered you didn’t have one, so I thought I’d pick one up for you. And can I say that you look lovely this evening.”

I knew I didn’t. I’d had a wardrobe crisis since the dress I wanted to wear I couldn’t find, and by the time I did find it, there was no time to iron the creases out of it, so I’d had to go with a backup dress. And then there hadn’t had been much time to fix my hair, so I’d pinned it back in a bun and done the bare minimum of makeup, concentrating mostly on the puffiness and circles under my eyes.

“I look pretty crappy, but you’re sweet. So, what are we doing tonight?” He walked to my kitchen, filled the vase with water, and then put the lilacs in it.

“Well, tonight you have two options, depending on how you feel.” He held up two fingers.

“Okay, hit me. What are the choices?”

“Option one, we go out to dinner and then a late showing of the classic movie
Casablanca
followed by dessert.
Or
, option two, we could have dinner at my place, have a private showing of
Casablanca,
and then have dessert.”

“So
Casablanca
and food are involved either way? What about sex?”

A smile flitted across his face. “Well, sex is only involved if you’re up for it. We don’t have to have sex every night.” I stepped closer to him and grabbed the lapels on his jacket.

“Says who? We only have a few days left and I want to make the most of them. With you.”

He looked down at me and smiled darkly. “Then we should make the most of them,” he said, kissing my forehead.

After some deliberation as we walked down to his car, we decided to go back to his apartment. Besides, it would be a lot easier and less frowned upon to make out at his abode than in the movie theater. Not that the idea didn’t also have an appeal. But I was tired, and his place was a more comfortable place to fall asleep than a movie theater.

“So what are we having for dinner?” I asked as Carl drove us to Fin’s place.

“That is up to you. I have an extensive collection of menus from the city’s finest establishments, and some of the
not
so fine ones, and you get to pick. Since I hijacked your Scrabble game and all.” He squeezed my hand and I gave him a quick kiss, breaking it off before it could turn into something else. I did have a fantasy of him having his way with me in a cab, but I didn’t think I could ever look at Carl again if we did that just now.

“So you’re ceding control of the meal planning to me?” I tried to raise one eyebrow but failed. I’d never been able to do that.

“I am. One thing at a time, Cherry. I’m trying.” He was. He was really trying to open up to me. I couldn’t ask for much more than that.

I cuddled closer to him as Carl pulled in front of Fin’s building.

“One thing at a time,” he whispered before getting out of the car and holding out his hand to help me.

Fin wasn’t lying. He had what seemed like hundreds of restaurant menus, all organized in a drawer in his kitchen. I fanned them out on the counter and stared.

“This is hard,” I said.

“Well, when I’m trying to make a decision, I first try to find out what I don’t want and go from there.” I’d used that method myself.

“Okay, I don’t feel like Chinese,” I said, discarding those menus. “And nothing that’s too hard to eat, or too spicy.” I discarded those menus as well.

I was left with twenty, which was still a large number. Fin hovered near me, and I could tell he was dying to put in his two cents. Finally, I picked up all the menus and fanned them in my hand like playing cards.

“Pick one,” I said.

He shook his head and stepped back. “No, you’re picking.”

“Well, I can’t make up my mind, and we’ll be sitting here all night. So pick one.” I shoved the menus at him and he sighed, as if I was asking him for a kidney.

He scanned the leftover menus and then closed his eyes.

“Okay, mix them up,” he said.

“You want me to shuffle the menus?” He nodded, his eyes still closed, so I mixed them up as best I could and fanned them out again.

“Pick one, I’m hungry,” I said as he groped for them. Finally, he got a hold of one and held it up.

“Perfect. I was hoping it would be this one. They have amazing lobster bisque.” Damn, that sounded amazing. We leaned against the counter and studied the menu. I’d never been to this place before, mostly because it was a bit high on my price range. As soon as we decided, Fin called the restaurant and put in our order.

“While we wait for that, I’m going to go and get everything set up for the movie. The bedroom is off limits for now. So feel free to go anywhere else in the house. But not the bedroom.”

“Okaaaaayyyy,” I said, wondering what he needed to set up to watch a movie. A thrill also went through me at the thought of watching a movie with him in the enchanted bedroom. I’d put on sexy underwear, just in case, and I’d brought all the things I needed for tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to go back to my place before heading to class.

I walked around the kitchen, noting how much different it was from mine, and not just in size. It was painstakingly organized. A place for everything and everything in its place.

Walking through to the living room, I was struck again by the beautiful bookshelves. There was a pile of books on the coffee table and I rifled through them. Some were old with cracked leather bindings, some were brand new paperbacks. All on different subjects, fiction, non-fiction, everything.

“You found my TBR pile,” he said, sneaking up behind me and putting his hands on my shoulders.

“Your what?” I said, after I’d gotten my heart restarted.

“My to-be-read pile. Well, one of them. Those are just the books I got from the library the other day that I have to finish before I go.” There were at least six books in the pile.

“How in the hell are you going to finish all those books, work, and hang out with me? I mean, I know you hardly ever sleep, but still, that seems ambitious.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“I’ll find time. I usually do.” An idea struck me that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of.

“What happens to this place when you’re gone?”

He sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “It’s looked after.” Well, that was vague.

“So do you own properties all over? Or just this one?” I knew I was prying, but I wanted to know.

“Just this one. I usually stay at hotels when I travel. It’s easier that way, because I never know where I’m going. It’s why I have so much stuff here, I think. Because I don’t get to take much with me, and I like knowing that my things, the stuff I cherish, is all in one place. Including you.” The last two words made my heart flutter and I ducked my head to hide a blush.

“I’m going to miss you, Fin,” I said. I wasn’t going to cry. There was no need to cry. At least not right now. We still had a few days.

We still had a few days. And nights. Couldn’t forget about those.

“I’m going to miss you, Mari Cherry.” He tugged me close and gave me a hug that almost squeezed the air out of my lungs.

“But let’s not think about goodbye now. The food should be here soon.” He stroked my hair and then kissed the tip of my nose.

Gram used to tell me that the moments that were most important would stay with me. Would be so clear in my memories that I would never forget them, no matter what.

The softness of Fin’s shirt against my fingers, the smell of his skin, the sound of his rough heartbeat, and the sigh of his breath. Those were all things that I knew would stick out in my memories, even years from now. Every detail of the room burned itself in my mind. Branded. Indelible as if I’d taken a picture.