36. A Piece of Peace
A PIECE OF PEACE
Lavender
Present day
AS SOON AS finals are over, and Kodiak and Maverick graduate, Kodiak and I pack our things and move into a condo sublet our parents found in New York City.
Although the internship offered accommodations, my dad and Kodiak’s mom researched the most statistically safe location within walking distance of my internship and a short subway ride from Kodiak’s training camp. Hence the sublet.
New York is busy and noisy and overwhelming. The bustle makes my heart race, but the internship is totally worth it. It takes all of twenty-four hours in the theater for me to come to the conclusion that this is my dream job.
My mentor, Priscilla, doesn’t coddle me. And even better, everyone I work with asks for my opinion. They push my creative boundaries and test my skill set. I love everything about it. For the first time in my life, I understand what it means to feel truly comfortable in my own skin.
Kodiak and I are learning how to manage life together. It isn’t seamless, or perfect, but it’s real, and it’s honest, and it’s us. He’s an excessive neat freak, and I’m less rigid about immediately putting everything away as soon as I’m done with it.
Regardless of our differences, we get each other on a level that feels soul deep.
Sure, we’re young, and we have our entire lives ahead of us, and so many things could change.
But in those first few weeks, we carve out a hectic existence for ourselves, and I finally feel at peace with our past and how we managed to get here, to this place where we’re wholly in love.
I stayed late at the theater tonight so I could finish a particularly tricky part of the costume I’m working on.
Priscilla has been so supportive, always there to answer questions and teach me tricks to make things easier.
It’s almost eight o’clock by the time I get home to our ridiculously nice, two-bedroom sublet on the twentieth floor.
I’m hopeful that Kodiak is in the mood for a little fun and stress relief tonight.
There are times when I worry I’m becoming a sex addict, but then I remind myself Kodiak is a twenty-two-year-old athlete—his birthday has come and gone—and there’s nothing wrong with having a high sex drive.
Besides, sex counts as exercise. Also, orgasms are a great, natural relaxant.
Kodiak actually looked it up when I made a joke about our slightly over-prolific sex life, paranoid that maybe we were having it too often. Then he read two books on sex addiction. And another one on bondage and voyeurism.
All they seemed to do was make him hornier and confirm that we were totally normal.
I let myself into the condo, and my excitement dampens when I hear him talking.
Maybe one of the guys he plays hockey with is over.
He’s made a few friends, as have I, but he never mentioned company tonight.
I toe off my shoes and head down the hall, pausing when I catch him pacing the length of the living room with his phone in his hand.
He’s wearing only a pair of athletic shorts, his heavily muscled back flexing as he runs a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m not going to Vancouver.”
He’s on speakerphone, but his dad’s voice is low and muffled, so I don’t catch his response.
“There has to be another option. That can’t be the only team who wants me. Can’t you get them to trade me? Maybe you should call my agent and ask about Chicago?”
“That’s not how it works, Kodiak.” Rook’s voice is gentle, rational.
“You pulled strings for training camp this summer, though. You have to be able to do something! It’s too far away. Lavender has two years of college left, and then we can go wherever.”
“You don’t know what things are going to look like two years from now, and you can’t base this decision on one person. Just because Vancouver has you doesn’t mean it’s going to be the only option.”
“It’s the only one I’m hearing about! I’m not being separated from her again. You’ll never understand what it’s like. I’m not you. I can’t walk away from the person I love and just deal for a year. I will lose my fucking mind!”
There’s some muttering on the other end of the line, and suddenly it’s his mom on the phone instead of his dad, her voice soft, but strong.
“Kodiak, remember that your words have an impact on the people they’re directed at, and throwing the past in someone’s face is not a way to manage your emotions. ”
The shift in his demeanor is immediate. “You don’t understand, Mom.”
“You’re right, I don’t. I will never truly be able to understand what this is like for you, or for Lavender, because it’s not my experience.
You can be angry about the past, but at some point, you have to let it go and live in your present.
I know you’re worried about signing a contract that will take you away from Lavender again, but you can’t tether yourself to her, or rely on her as the sole source of your happiness. Otherwise you’re going in reverse.”
“We’re doing so good right now, though. I don’t want to lose this.”
“No one says you have to, Kodiak.”
“How is it gonna work if I’m halfway across the country? I’ll be traveling nine months out of the year.” He rubs the space between his eyes.
“Have faith that your relationship is strong enough to withstand this,” she tells him.
“What if I’m not strong enough?” he asks softly as I step into the living room.
He catches the movement, and his face pales.
“Lavender’s home. I gotta go. I love you, Mom.
Tell Dad I’m sorry. I’ll see you in a few days.
” He ends the call and tosses the phone on the couch. “How much of that did you hear?”
There’s no point in lying. “Vancouver wants you.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t do it. I won’t take the deal.”
I bridge the gap between us, link our pinkies, and guide him to the couch. He sits heavily and rests his forearms on his thighs.
“We knew this was coming.” I run my fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, but he bows his head.
“I won’t go to the West Coast. I’m not leaving you.” His knees bounce, even though I know he’s trying to force them to stay still.
“Kodiak, look at me.” He glances at me briefly, and all I see is fear. These are the times I don’t envy him and his massive brain. He unpacks every scenario in his head and runs it through, finding a fatalistic ending that drags him down into a soul-crushing abyss of terror.
I straddle his thighs and place my palm on the side of his neck. His pulse pounds violently. “I know you’re scared, but you have to take the deal.”
“I don’t want to risk losing you,” he whispers.
“Why do you think you’d lose me?”
“It’s the other side of the country. I’ll hardly see you.” His face is etched with pain. “What if you decide it’s too hard? What if I can’t handle it?”
“Of course it’s going to be hard, but have faith that we can handle it.
” I stroke his cheek, hating that I have to do this.
“You have to promise me you’ll take a deal, Kodiak, even if it’s on the West Coast. You wouldn’t let me walk away from an opportunity to live my dream, and I won’t let you do that either. ”
“It’s not the same. This is a two-month internship, not a contract that’s going to lock you in for years in another country.”
I sigh, weighing how best to approach this. “I will not let you waste your talent on fear of the unknown. And I refuse to carry that kind of guilt around with me for the rest of my life. We already know what that looks like.”
His panic flares, and despite the fact that I’m sitting on his legs, they still manage a couple of bounces before they still. “What’re you saying?”
“You can’t put your life on hold. You have to sign with a team this year.”
His eyes harden, and his jaw tightens. I sincerely hope we’re not gearing up for a fight. “What if that’s not what I want? What if I want to go to grad school instead?”
I make a face. “You would’ve applied if that’s what you wanted, and you didn’t.
Your mom posts the video of you playing hockey in your crib every year on your birthday.
You played almost before you could walk.
This is what you were meant to do, and you will be amazing no matter what team you play for or where.
But you will play for a team this year.”
Fear and anger twine together. “This sounds a lot like an ultimatum, Lavender.”
I stroke his cheek; my anxiety mirrors his. “What do you think will happen to us if you throw away everything you’ve been working for just so you can be close to me? Isn’t that us falling into the same pattern of dependency we’ve worked so hard to overcome? How do you think that will end?”
He puts his hand over mine, and his eyes fall shut.
He inhales deeply and releases the breath slowly, seeking calm as he absorbs my words.
I allow him to fall back into the past, reliving every instance in which he tried to save me from myself, but couldn’t.
He was great at calming the aftermath, but only I could ever save myself. Now it’s my turn to save him from me.
When he opens his eyes, he whispers, “Badly. It would end badly.”
I nod and give him a small, sad smile. “We’ll make it work, wherever you go.” I hope it’s not a little lie, because in my heart I believe it to be the truth.
Otherwise, what was the point of all the suffering in the first place?
The next few days are tense and anxious. I try not to show my distraction when I’m at the theater, but it’s tough. I’m watching the clock, counting the hours until I can be home with Kodiak.
The moment either of us walks in the door, we’re on each other. We barely make time for dinner or sleep, too consumed with getting in as much togetherness as we can before he has to fly to Chicago for the weekend.
He’ll only be gone a few days, but there’s a sense of urgency that increases as the days dwindle into hours.
On Thursday morning, Kodiak watches me get ready for work. I pull on one of my light summer dresses and fix my hair in a ponytail. I don’t bother with contacts these days, or makeup.
“Do you wonder if it would’ve been easier if I’d stayed in Chicago and let you come here on your own?” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a polo and black pants, his suitcase packed and waiting by the front door.
“But then we wouldn’t know what it’s like to live together,” I offer.
“You’ve become my definition of home, and if I get picked up by a team out west, I’ll feel displaced.”
Kodiak’s way has always been able to filter the thoughts in his head and express only the ones he feels are most vital. I cross the room and step between his legs. We’ve been up since four and had sex three times between then and now, and still my body warms to his proximity.
I take his hand and place it against the side of my neck as he does the same to me.
It will always be our thing. “We will adapt. How do you think our parents survived all those years with our dads on the road so much of the time? It’s an adjustment.
And to answer your original question, I don’t know if it would’ve been easier or not.
But we’ll always have this time that was just ours to hold on to when being apart hurts. ”
“I wish it hadn’t taken me this long to learn how to love you without consuming you.”
I take his face in my hands. “You say it like you hold all the blame. We were equally complicit in our fall. Sometimes we have to break so we can recreate a stronger version of ourselves.” I press my lips to his, but pull back before he can deepen the kiss. “Promise me you’ll sign a contract.”
“I promise.” He makes an X over my heart and rises, sealing it with a searing, desperate kiss.
We walk down to street level together, and Kodiak makes a scene as he kisses me goodbye for far longer than is reasonable or appropriate.
Afterward, I stand on the sidewalk, watching his cab disappear into morning traffic and feel the string that connects us pulling tighter the farther away he goes.
It’s something I’ll have to get used to.
I manage to keep it together at work, but the moment I walk into the empty condo at the end of the day, I break down in tears. After stewing all day, I’m scared he might be right, and if he gets picked up by a West Coast team, we’re not going to be able to handle the distance.
I’m home for all of two minutes when there’s a knock on my door. The elderly woman down the hall sometimes has trouble with her key, so I wipe the tears away and try to get myself together enough to help her out.
Except when I open the door, it’s not my neighbor.
“Surprise!” My mom does jazz hands and nearly hits Lacey in the face. She ducks out of the way and elbows Lovey in the boob. Behind them are River and Josiah, who, unlike the twins, are standing a safe distance from my mom.
There’s a round of cringing and sorry before they all turn back to me.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“As if we were going to leave you here alone this weekend,” my mom says.
And of course I burst into tears, because that’s the kind of day it’s been. I can’t even speak I’m so choked up. They shuffle inside the condo and fold me into a group hug.
“We got you, Lavender.” My mom squeezes me tightly. “No matter what, you’re not going through this alone.”