Chapter 17 In the Garden #2
Her words sling through the room, defiant and brave. Hannah searches her eyes and finds a new light in them: not the desperate one, full of shame, but the light of love, the transcendent light of Sunday morning.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Hannah whispers.
Baker kisses her tenderly. Hannah feels the weight of Baker’s body on her torso, pressing against her ribs and stomach, warming her. They kiss, and then they move their hands over each other’s clothes, and then they are naked on the bed, their bodies cupped together and open to the outside world.
And Hannah finds herself praying again, and she feels God coursing through her body and blood, but this time she knows it’s with jubilation.
“You’re crying,” Baker says.
Hannah raises a hand to her own cheek. She touches the tears and laughs in disbelief. “Yeah,” she says, her voice wet, “but I think it’s in a good way.”
Baker’s smile starts small, just her lips parted in wonder, but then it grows until it lights up her whole face.
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you,” Hannah says.
And they show each other.
And then it’s the second Friday of August, and Baker has freshman orientation on Monday. Hannah sits on Baker’s bed while Baker darts distractedly around her bedroom, categorizing her belongings into toiletries and school supplies and cleaning products.
“I pity your roommate,” Hannah says. “You’re gonna color coordinate her closet while she’s out of the room, and then she’s gonna come back and not know how to find her own clothes.”
“I pity your roommate,” Baker says, fitting her shampoo into a shower caddy. “You’re going to scare her off with all your bad puns. She’ll be terrified to have a conversation with you.”
Hannah narrows her eyes. Baker looks up from where she’s seated on the floor, and she shakes her head and says, “Oh, no. Don’t even.”
“What?”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make a pun about something. I can tell by your expression.”
“I am not,” Hannah laughs.
“You so are.”
“Fine.”
The corners of Baker’s mouth lift. “Did you come up with anything?”
“No,” Hannah admits. She pauses, glancing at the upheaval around them. “I’ve had a hard time concentrating lately.”
Baker’s smile falters. “We’re gonna be fine, Han,” she says, looking her straight in the eye. “We’re going to miss each other, but we’ll be fine.”
“I know. I’m just not looking forward to the missing each other part.”
“Me neither.”
Hannah chews the inside of her lip. “I’m going to miss our friends, too. I already do.”
Baker holds her eyes. They stare at each other through the space of Baker’s bedroom, surrounded by proof that their lives are changing again.
“Me too,” Baker says.
They spend all of Saturday together, eating breakfast and lunch and snacks in between.
They take Charlie to the dog park and throw the ball until they’re sweaty.
They watch The Princess Diaries on Hannah’s couch, curled up under the same blanket with their hands intertwined.
They drive to St. Mary’s and gaze through the windshield at the familiar blond brick buildings, the buildings that always felt like home, and intentionally take a moment to kiss.
They eat dinner with Hannah’s parents, talking excitedly about college while they pass the green beans around the table, both of them masking the nostalgia they already feel for their old life.
And after dinner, while Hannah washes the dishes and Baker dries them with an old dish towel, Baker’s cell phone chimes in her pocket. Hannah pays no attention while Baker reads the text message.
“Hey,” Baker says, stepping up behind Hannah, kissing the underside of her ear. “Let’s take a break now, okay? There’s something I want to show you.”
“What?”
“C’mere,” Baker says, tugging on her hand.
“What are we doing?”
Baker smiles. “We’re going to play outside.”
They leave the kitchen and walk out the back door, stepping beyond the carport and into the muggy evening air. And there, standing in the road, Hannah sees them.
Luke, Joanie, Wally, and Clay, their figures larger than life against the sunset. They grin at her as she approaches, each of them standing next to a bicycle. Wally and Clay balance two additional bicycles at their sides.
“What—?” Hannah says, breathless.
“Don’t look so surprised, dummy,” Joanie says.
“It’s the last night we can all be together,” Clay says, his voice catching.
“Together?” Hannah asks. “You mean … we’re all okay?”
“Of course we’re okay,” Clay says, looking sideways to Wally, Joanie, and Luke. He clasps hands with Wally and looks back to Hannah. “Six-Pack for life.”
Hannah steps toward them. Wally meets her eyes, his smile gentle and steady. “What do you say, Han?”
Hannah feels her smile all over her body, from the roots of her hair to the bones of her feet.
“We thought an evening bike ride would be really clichéd and disgustingly romantic,” Luke says.
“Which is how we knew you’d like it,” Joanie says.
“Come on,” Clay says, tilting the bicycle at his side. “I’ve got ice-cold Coke and a bag of chips in my book sack. We’ll make a picnic out of it.”
Hannah turns to Baker. “Did you plan all this?”
Baker’s eyes dance. “Maybe.”
They share one brief, secret smile, and then Hannah looks back at their friends. “I’m down.”
Wally holds the extra bike out toward her. She steps forward to take it, thanking him with disbelieving eyes. Clay balances the other bike until Baker settles onto it, kicking her sandals up onto the pedals.
“Ready?” Baker asks.
“Ready,” Hannah says.
They bike away from the yard, first Clay, then Wally, then Baker, then Hannah, then Joanie and Luke laughing in the back.
They race down Olive Street and into the core of the Garden District, and Hannah watches Clay’s book sack flapping with the wind, watches the evening sunlight glint off Wally’s glasses when he turns his head to the side, hears Joanie and Luke’s banter behind her, feels Baker’s presence at her side.
Clay takes his hands off his bike to make the Six-Pack sign, and they all copy him, whooping and yelling before hastily grabbing the handlebars again.
They cruise over clusters of pebbles and patches of dusk-colored sunlight, beneath the arms of the live oaks and the promise of their green leaves, past houses full of people and rules and prayers and magic.
Hannah looks at Baker, and Baker extends her hand into the space between them, holding it palm up for Hannah to take, right there in the heart of the garden.