Chapter 12 #2
“Um, I’ve been called reckless. Dr. Broderick says that my lack of connection makes me take unnecessary risks, though I argue that someone has to, especially in the name of science and protecting the environment.”
His head tilts in a half-shake, like this disappoints him. “You’ve always taken risks.”
“My sister and father found their soulmates, and I didn’t even know… not because they didn’t want to tell me, but because I don’t make time to listen.”
“Anything else?” he asks, his tone softer.
“I am… lonely,” I say, wishing my therapist could hear me now. Dr. Broderick would fall out of her posh chair to hear me admit it. “My sexual partners have been accommodating, but ineffectual at satisfying that need, though I can’t fault them too much.”
“How come?”
My cheeks flush. “Um, I have an annoying habit of saying Henry at the most intimate times.”
Beer sprays over the bar at his choking sip. “Fuck me, sorry.”
I hand him the napkin. “It’s okay.”
A rosy tint appears under his glasses—a look I like on him. He fumbles with his bottle as he cleans up the mess, nearly knocking it over. “Um, that’s awkward. How did they react?”
I shrug. “My partners have been surprisingly forgiving at that stage in our engagement. I don’t want to see them again, so it’s a problem that resolves itself.”
He gulps his beer like he doesn’t know what to say.
“I have no one, Henry,” I tell him, hoping that will lessen his resentment toward me.
“I never wanted any of that for you… I didn’t realize you knew about me denying our friendship.”
“I didn’t live in a bubble.”
“It was only once, not that it’s any comfort. I hated myself for it. I felt horrible… I’m sorry, Vee.”
“It’s okay.”
“How come you never said? You should’ve been pissed,” he says.
I smirk, swishing the remains of my drink in the glass. “Everyone tells me how I should be. It’s exhausting, and it flusters me. All I can say is that at the time, I was so grateful to have you that forgiveness was easy. Besides, given social hierarchies and school dynamics, I understood.”
The boat jerks as the captain rams it against the dock. The happy couple nearly falls overboard, but laughs it off as they regain their balance.
We disembark the vessel. Henry takes my hand to help me onto the dock, and a spark flies up my arm, fizzing out somewhere around my heart. I know this is it—the last time we’ll be together, but that’s sadness I’ll save for later.
In this moment, I feel lighter. The burden of carrying a thousand secrets lifts now that I’ve shared some with him, a result I didn’t expect, though Dr. Broderick has argued as much for years. I consider extending the experiment to Ivy and Dad—to finally say everything I should have then.
For now, I twist to face Henry. Sunlight silhouettes his frame while a breeze ruffles through his hair. I expect him to stuff his hands in his pockets, glance around indifferently, and say something along the lines of “thanks” and “goodbye.”
He does the first two things, but then says, “Have dinner with me?” he asks, running a hand down his beard. “I don’t think this conversation is over.”
“Okay, as long as you don’t mind dining with a twenty-eight-year-old in a prom dress and hiking boots.”
“I know a place where you’ll fit right in,” he grins, pointing to a cheery restaurant on the corner with a bright sign that reads, “Queens and Dreams Diner.” I can’t help but smile.
Chimes announce our arrival when Henry swings the door open to usher me inside.
A jukebox glows in the corner, currently playing “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith.
Bright red vinyl booths and barstools stand out against the black-and-white tiled floor.
Neon signs beam against multi-colored walls, and light from metal pendants bounces off the touches of stainless steel along the tables.
If happiness had a color palette, this would be it.
“It reminds me of summer,” I say in a breath.
“I knew you’d love it,” he says, smiling beside me.
“Henry!” A six-foot hostess wearing a fifties-style polka dot dress with a lacy crinoline peeking from the hem steps from behind the counter, her red-lipped smile widening as she takes us in. She snaps her fingers over her head, drawing more attention. “Girls, come here!”
And suddenly, we’re surrounded by drag queens.
“Ooh, la, la, Cinderella grunge,” she says, eyeing my outfit. “I love it!”
“What’s the occasion, Henry?” a drag queen in a turquoise mermaid dress asks, linking onto his arm. “You on a date, for once?”
He looks sheepish, blushing again, but motions to me with formality when he says, “Ladies, meet Venus, an old friend.”
“The goddess of love,” one coos brightly.
“Venus, this is DeeDee,” Henry says, motioning to the hostess.
She takes my hand in both of hers, her eyes drifting over me from head to boots. “Venus, finally.”
I’m about to ask what she means when Henry diverts my attention. “Lucky Lucy’s the mermaid—”
“I’m still waiting on my Aquaman,” Lucy laughs, shaking my hand.
“And Sunny,” Henry says.
“As in Sunny Side Up, but I’d say I’m over easy. Will you two be going hiking or dancing? I’m confused,” says the waitress in a bright yellow, fitted dress suit.
“Wherever the night takes us, I suppose,” I say.
They laugh, though I mean it.
“I love a girl who’s prepared for anything,” says Lucy, fondling loose strands of my long hair.
“Let’s get you seated before Lucy starts fixing your hair,” advises DeeDee, giving the mermaid a warning look.
She leads us to a booth in the back corner. I slide into the vinyl seat, my dress swishing as I go, and I can’t remember the last time I felt pretty like this.
“Henry, you want the usual?” DeeDee asks.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“I’ll take his usual, too,” I say, handing her the menu.
Her bright red lips edge into a flirty smile. “A girl who knows what she wants even if she doesn’t know what it is… hmm.” She saunters away.
My attention falls back to Henry, where I want it to be. Not on a menu. I shrug lightly. “They like my outfit.”
“You’re beautiful, Venus,” he says, sounding defeated.
I’m about to thank him, as is customary after a compliment, but he leans forward, his expression turning serious.
“I need to say something. You’ve helped me understand your point of view, and I’m thankful for it, but I need you to understand mine.”
I nod, nerves rising with his intensity. “I’m listening.”
He hesitates, his eyes roaming toward the jukebox as the song switches to “Still Into You” by Paramore.
“This was Uncle Jay’s favorite place. He restored the jukebox—his grand opening gift to DeeDee.
His own business was floundering, but he still invested in seeing hers succeed… He um, he died four months ago.”
“Henry, I’m sorry,” I offer, remembering the friendly man who nicknamed me Rapunzel for my long, blonde hair.
He fiddles with his silverware. “He struggled with his mental health, and instead of asking for help or even talking to us, he decided it’d be better to die, not to be a burden.”
My heart seizes at the pain evident in his pinched lips and furrowed brow. His words slice through me, mirroring what I said to him on the boat.
“That’s how it felt when you left, Venus. Like grief. Like life and love were ripped away from me without understanding why. It still feels that way.”
Tears weigh down my lashes as I comprehend what he’s telling me—that two people he’s loved have believed themselves to be burdens and vanished from his life.
Forced him to grieve. Left him with unanswered questions.
I should apologize again, but I know it won’t make any difference.
That pain remains, nestled in like a burr, sharp on all sides. No apology will remove it.
“For me, too,” I breathe, though he only shakes his head.
“But you weren’t abandoned,” he says. “I should’ve been a better friend to you. A better boyfriend. I took you for granted. I wasn’t there for you, not the way you needed me. I knew you suffered, but not how much… maybe if I looked harder, paid more attention—”
“It wasn’t your fault—”
“Letting you believe you were a burden? Yes, that’s my fault.” He leans against the booth and pulls his inhaler from his pocket.
“You didn’t know, Henry. You couldn’t have changed what you didn’t know,” I say.
“Then, why didn’t you tell me? You always acted like nothing bothered you. You always said you were fine. You lied.”
“No, I didn’t lie. I don’t lie. I was fine… with you. Don’t you see? You were my only relief!”
DeeDee arrives with two frosty IPAs. “You two okay?” she asks, as he takes a quick puff off his inhaler.
“Fine,” he manages shortly.
Her penciled eyebrow quirks, but she disappears into the dining room. Henry stares into his beer, his messy brown hair hitting the rim of his glasses and shadowing his thoughtful eyes. He doesn’t seem angry anymore, but desperately sad, which might be worse.
“I kept my distance from you at school because, yeah, it was easier sometimes, but that’s what I thought you wanted. That’s what you said for me to do. I didn’t realize things were… that bad for you. I’m sorry, Vee.”
I lean forward, catching his eyes in mine. “Don’t be sorry. You made it all better. Bearable. With you, I was… just Venus. Do you understand what that meant to me? It was everything to me, Henry. Everything.”