warm and briny, and when I shattered at his touch, I cried because I loved him so much and everything felt so beautiful, so right.
He took a picture of us with his phone, a grainy overexposed shot of me smiling at the camera, hair blowing all around my face. Heath was staring at me, and I had studied that stare a million times and every time I looked at it I always concluded the same thing- he loved me. It was there in the softness of his eyes, the rigidity of his jaw, the way he leaned towards me. He loved me, at least in that moment.
Apparently I had been right. I hadn’t lied to myself all those years. He’d left because he’d been afraid of going to prison, being labeled a sexual predator. It eased the sting a little. But just a little.
Because he still could have told me.
He hadn’t gotten fired that day. His boss had been amused and had mentioned he remembered wanting to impress a girl once upon a time. He did dock his pay for the gas, but when we did it two more times he didn’t even bother to do that.
As I got ready for dinner, it occurred to me for the first time to wonder who would have complained to social services about Heath and me. It couldn’t have been my mother. She had no idea what was going on. My father would never have called it in. He would have talked to me. He would have asked Heath to move out if he was worried about me getting pregnant or something like that. I didn’t think anyone in town would have given two shits about what Heath and I were doing in private.
Which left one person. Brian. The brother I no longer spoke to. The drunk brother who had laughed at my father’s wake and stormed out when I confronted him.
The brother who lived with his grad student girlfriend right there at UMaine near me, and who refused to acknowledge me as resolutely as I refused to acknowledge him.
I drank the second glass of wine Ethan’s parents had given to me and smiled and laughed a little too loudly at a joke his dad made. Ethan’s dad was a future version of him- charming and attractive and thoughtful. He commanded respect everywhere he went and he hadn’t even expressed concern over Aubrey and me being underage. He’d just ordered two bottles of wine and poured. The staff at the restaurant all knew him and clearly knew he tipped well, given how attentive they were to our table.
Aubrey was in a better mood than she had been on Saturday and she rolled her eyes and laughed too. “Dad, you’ve told that joke like seven thousand times.”
“But you’re still laughing.” He winked.
Even Ethan laughed at that. “Wow.”
“I wouldn’t laugh,” Aubrey said. “You’re looking at yourself in twenty-five years.”
He made a face. “Don’t be weird.”
“I’ve held up pretty well. Haven’t I, honey?” Ethan’s father, Joel, asked his mother.
She was essentially the future Aubrey, blonde and always pulled together, with a biting sense of humor to her husband’s goofiness. She patted his arm. “I’d still do you.”
“Oh, God!” Ethan reached for his wine. “Seriously, Mom?”
“News flash. Your parents have sex,” was her nonchalant response.
I always enjoyed watching Joel and Olivia interact with each other. It was clear they loved each other, but they’d each had their own individual successes in life. It was a partnership they shared, one I hoped to emulate with Ethan. Nothing like my own parents, a sad bond that was based on desperate optimism and obligation. It was safe to say my parents hadn’t had a rousing sex life in at least a decade, more likely two.
“But we don’t need to talk about it,” Aubrey said. “Any more than we need to talk about my sex life.”
“Who is talking about your sex life?” Joel asked, his voice suddenly sharp. “And why do you have a sex life? Ethan is the one who is engaged.”
Aubrey bit a piece of bread. “Never mind.”
“Anyway,” Olivia said, raising her wine glass. “Let’s toast to Ethan and Caitlyn. To a
He took a picture of us with his phone, a grainy overexposed shot of me smiling at the camera, hair blowing all around my face. Heath was staring at me, and I had studied that stare a million times and every time I looked at it I always concluded the same thing- he loved me. It was there in the softness of his eyes, the rigidity of his jaw, the way he leaned towards me. He loved me, at least in that moment.
Apparently I had been right. I hadn’t lied to myself all those years. He’d left because he’d been afraid of going to prison, being labeled a sexual predator. It eased the sting a little. But just a little.
Because he still could have told me.
He hadn’t gotten fired that day. His boss had been amused and had mentioned he remembered wanting to impress a girl once upon a time. He did dock his pay for the gas, but when we did it two more times he didn’t even bother to do that.
As I got ready for dinner, it occurred to me for the first time to wonder who would have complained to social services about Heath and me. It couldn’t have been my mother. She had no idea what was going on. My father would never have called it in. He would have talked to me. He would have asked Heath to move out if he was worried about me getting pregnant or something like that. I didn’t think anyone in town would have given two shits about what Heath and I were doing in private.
Which left one person. Brian. The brother I no longer spoke to. The drunk brother who had laughed at my father’s wake and stormed out when I confronted him.
The brother who lived with his grad student girlfriend right there at UMaine near me, and who refused to acknowledge me as resolutely as I refused to acknowledge him.
I drank the second glass of wine Ethan’s parents had given to me and smiled and laughed a little too loudly at a joke his dad made. Ethan’s dad was a future version of him- charming and attractive and thoughtful. He commanded respect everywhere he went and he hadn’t even expressed concern over Aubrey and me being underage. He’d just ordered two bottles of wine and poured. The staff at the restaurant all knew him and clearly knew he tipped well, given how attentive they were to our table.
Aubrey was in a better mood than she had been on Saturday and she rolled her eyes and laughed too. “Dad, you’ve told that joke like seven thousand times.”
“But you’re still laughing.” He winked.
Even Ethan laughed at that. “Wow.”
“I wouldn’t laugh,” Aubrey said. “You’re looking at yourself in twenty-five years.”
He made a face. “Don’t be weird.”
“I’ve held up pretty well. Haven’t I, honey?” Ethan’s father, Joel, asked his mother.
She was essentially the future Aubrey, blonde and always pulled together, with a biting sense of humor to her husband’s goofiness. She patted his arm. “I’d still do you.”
“Oh, God!” Ethan reached for his wine. “Seriously, Mom?”
“News flash. Your parents have sex,” was her nonchalant response.
I always enjoyed watching Joel and Olivia interact with each other. It was clear they loved each other, but they’d each had their own individual successes in life. It was a partnership they shared, one I hoped to emulate with Ethan. Nothing like my own parents, a sad bond that was based on desperate optimism and obligation. It was safe to say my parents hadn’t had a rousing sex life in at least a decade, more likely two.
“But we don’t need to talk about it,” Aubrey said. “Any more than we need to talk about my sex life.”
“Who is talking about your sex life?” Joel asked, his voice suddenly sharp. “And why do you have a sex life? Ethan is the one who is engaged.”
Aubrey bit a piece of bread. “Never mind.”
“Anyway,” Olivia said, raising her wine glass. “Let’s toast to Ethan and Caitlyn. To a
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