Carolina Days: Yesterday's Half Truths Part 25

The restaurant is not far from my house. I enjoy the entire drive, even though the close proximity to Luke and whatever aftershave he's wearing is tantamount to torture.

After parking, he walks around the car, I mean Sally, to open my door. We walk side by side, our hands only a breath apart. I yearn to clasp them together, but silently wait for him to take my hand first.

The restaurant is small and not crowded. Luke had made a reservation and we are taken directly to a small booth in the back corner. He offers me the seat facing the rest of the room.

"Is this good? I figured you'd be more comfortable if you could see where everyone else was."

I gulp; his thoughtfulness a ball of emotion I need to swallow before I can speak. "It's perfect."

"Would you like me to order for you? I can if you want."

While people as a whole intimidate me, our soft-spoken server does not. "I think I'll be okay, but thank you for offering."

I've never had sushi altogether before. In some shape or form, I've had all of the varying ingredients, just never together. As an appetizer, we shared a bowl of salted edamame.

"Do you drink?" Luke asks as we look over the menu.

I shake my head.

"No pressure, but Saki is good if you'd like to try a little."

"Will I get drunk?"

"You probably have a pretty low tolerance, so I wouldn't recommend having more than one."

"Are you going to have one? Can you drive after?"

"I won't drink at all if it makes you uncomfortable, but if I'm driving, I limit myself to two drinks if I'm out."

"I'm curious, but I don't know."

He starts to reach his hand across the table toward mine, and my stomach somersaults until he stops halfway and pulls his hand back. "Don't ever feel like you have to do anything you're not sure of."

I nod. How sad it is that I still don't know if I can believe him.

When our waitress returns, Luke orders iced tea while I stick to water and we both order a combo plate with a variety of different sushi rolls to sample. As more guests arrive, and are seated, I allow myself to observe. A short while ago, a scene like this would have caused me to panic. Now, comfortable with my vantage point and able to see that they are all focused on their own groups and not me, I'm able to relax.

Luke tries to teach me how to use chopsticks, but I can't seem to manipulate my fingers the right way. I give up and use my fork instead. I'm still nervous. That hasn't gone away, but Luke doesn't scare me the way he did in the beginning. We can hold a conversation.

He surprises me by confiding about a meeting he had just the day before with his father. How horrible that he was only trying to come back in to Luke's life for monetary reasons. Our conversation lagged after that.

"Luke." He lifts his eyes to mine. "Earlier, I thought you may have been reaching out to hold my hand, but then you pulled back."

He wets his lips, setting his chopsticks down. "I was."

"Why did you pull back?"

"I want you to initiate any touching that goes on between us."

My mouth drops open. "What? Why?"

"I want to be with you, in every way you can imagine. If and when you initiate the movement, I'll know that's what you want as well."

"But."

"I'm in no hurry."

I blush. "So, if I'd like to hold your hand all I need to do is reach out for it?"

He nods.

"Does that mean you'll never reach out for me?"

He leans back in his chair, pensive. "That's an interesting question. How would you feel if I waited until after three times?"

My brow furrows. "Meaning, if I reach out for your hand three separate times, after that you won't wait for me, but you'll take my hand should you want to hold it?"

"Exactly."

"But why three times?"

"Here's how I see it. The first time you do something, you might not like it. The second time could be you confirming you did not like it the first time, but with the third time, you would be telling me you do."

"What if I'm scared?"

"I think you're brave."

He thinks I'm brave.

After dinner as we walk back to his car, I decide I may as well and reach for his hand. His surprise at my movement is evident when his hand briefly tenses before relaxing. As I curl my fingers around his, he looks over at me, squeezing my hand gently. Our pace slows, as though we both realize our contact will end once we reach his car.

Instead of opening my door right away, we stand here.

Now the sun has set, I'm grateful for my jacket. It doesn't stop a shiver from escaping.

"Are you cold?"

All I want to do is step into him, rest my cheek against his chest, and have him circle his arms around me. Instead, I glance down at our joined hands and shake my head.

"Did you have a good time? Was it stressful?"

"It was perfect. Thank you."

It's not until his shoulders drop that I see how tense he was all night. Like at the park, during the soccer game. He has made himself my personal guardian against the rest of the world.

He thinks I'm brave.

I want to be brave for him.

But will he think I'm fat? I'm in the best shape of my life, but he is the Adonis to my Quasimodo.

Be brave.

One step forward and I'm an inch away from him. I'm tall and even in my heels he's still taller. I can do this. I inch forward, dropping his hand, eclipsing the s.p.a.ce between us and rest my cheek on his shoulder.

"Can you hold me?" I ask softly.

When he doesn't move, I worry the wind carried my quiet plea away before he could hear it. Then two strong arms lift and wrap around me. His grip is loose, allowing me to move away from him.

"Tighter," I whisper.

And he listens.

He is a warm wall of solid muscle. There are parts of me that are now firm; but against him, the parts of me that are soft melt against him. It's been nine years since another human being has held me. It is paradise on earth. My hands lift to rest on his sides.

"You aren't going to hug me back?" he asks, his mouth against my hair.

I had been seeking his permission, and now granted, I circled my arms around his waist.

We fit together in a way that makes me want to cry. It's perfection. It's terrifying. I allow myself one last moment of bliss before stepping back.

His arms may have released me but his eyes hold tight. "Are you okay?"

I nod quickly, swallowing the emotion that threatens to ruin our night. I'm happier than I have ever been before. Why does it make me want to cry?

"We're not going out?" Lindsay asks, confused.

"I thought we could eat here." I lift the bag of takeout I picked up on the way to her house.

Ever since we went out for sushi, I've been taking her out to get used to, and more comfortable, being around other people. I thought I'd give her a night off from all the stress it causes her and hang out at her place instead.

"That'd be great." She steps backward and I follow her, closing the door behind me.

"Is chicken curry okay?"

She grins. "Sure. It smells delicious."

I lead the way to her cozy kitchen and grab plates. Coco jumps onto the kitchen counter to investigate. Four short months ago, I conned my way into her house with a Christmas tree. Now I'm comfortable enough here that I know where she keeps stuff in her kitchen.

"What would you like to drink?"

"I brought a bottle of white wine but forgot it in the car." I set the plates down. "I'll be right back."

By the time I'm back, she's served each of us some white rice, chicken curry, and steamed asparagus.

I take care of the wine, pouring each of us a gla.s.s while she sits. Once I sit, I raise my gla.s.s and she mirrors my movement. "To staying in."

A relaxed smile blooms across her face. "This is nice."

We each take a drink. "You dread going out, don't you?"

She rubs her finger back and forth along the curved base of her winegla.s.s. "I like spending time with you."

"I feel like such an a.s.s for pushing you."

Her hand is across the table and on mine in a flash. "Don't. I know you're doing it for me. You keep me from giving up."

"It's nice to take a break though, right?"

She pulls her hand back and nods. "I wish I could be as comfortable around everyone else as I am with you."

Her life would be simpler if that was the case. A greedy part of me is thrilled by her fear of everyone else. It means there is more of her for me alone.

"You've already come so far," I encourage.

"What about at the movies?" She lifts a brow.

It's a relief she can talk about it without getting upset. That wasn't the case last week. I thought the movies would be a safe bet. There normally aren't many conversations or interactions with strangers there. Everything seemed to be going fine until the lights went down and a family hurried in and sat next to us.

If we ever go to a movie again, I'll know to have her sit in the aisle seat so there won't be the chance of someone she doesn't know sitting next to her in the dark. The gentleman who sat by her couldn't have realized how something as simple as b.u.mping her elbow as he went to use the armrest could freak someone like Lindsay out.

I had to run to catch up with her as she fled the theater. She was overwhelmed with unexpectedly touching a stranger and embarra.s.sed because she was overwhelmed in the first place. We came straight back to her place. As much as I hated it, I had to drop her off and not stay to comfort her. That was all I had wanted to do, but her impulse to hide overruled me.

I did get her to agree to talk on the phone to me. That night was a repeat of when I was in California. We both left our lines open until we fell asleep.

"We can always watch movies On Demand; or maybe, I can see if there are any drive-ins around here."

She snorts. "Drive-in?"

I laugh at her expression. "I'm being serious. There's one over by where Sasha lives that's open in the summer. They play double features."

Her eyes light up. "That sounds fun."

"As long as it's a clear night, we can put the top down on my car and go sometime."

When we've both finished our meals, I pour her another gla.s.s. For someone who has never drank that much, she has a two drink maximum. Someday, who knows, maybe in a couple years if she still doesn't mind me hanging around, I'll see if she wants to get drunk.

She has this thing about always being in control, so I know she would never do it now. I have a feeling she'd be a cute drunk, but then again I think everything she does is cute.

"I have an ulterior motive for staying in tonight." I take her hand and lead her to the living room.

"And that is?"

"One thing I thought we should practice for your reunion is dancing."

Her mouth falls open. "I'm not going to dance there."

"You don't want to dance with me?" I jokingly pout.