Chapter Thirty
THIRTY
Annie
Jeff in the American Museum of Natural History’s Collections Department responds to our email Thursday evening saying he has no idea what we’re talking about but is happy to look into it further if we can bring the goose up to New York, preferably before close of business on Friday since he’ll be out of the office for the Thanksgiving holiday next week.
“That’ll be a fun road trip,” I say, reading the message over Cal’s shoulder in bed. “Just you, me, the open road, and a big ol’ dead bird.”
“As idyllic as that sounds, I think it’s better if it’s just one of us, the open road, and a big ol’ dead bird. That way we don’t have to close the shop for the day.”
“That makes sense. Do you want me to take it, then, and you can handle things here at Virtu?”
“No, I think I should go. It was my responsibility in the first place. Besides, our customers like you better,” he says, idly brushing his fingertips up and down the leg I have thrown over his hip. “Not that I can blame them. Who wouldn’t?”
I tap him on the arm. “Oh, cut it out. I certainly have my charms, but you have plenty of your own. So thoughtful, knowledgeable, passionate. Handsome.” I bite my bottom lip as I give myself a moment to appreciate the beautiful angles of his face, the now-familiar terrain of his body.
“You know, I actually think you’re pretty fantastic,” I whisper, unable to resist pressing my lips to the most convenient patch of his warm skin—right over his heart.
While I’m disappointed I won’t get to join him in bringing this bizarre adventure to (what will hopefully be) its conclusion, having Cal’s trust in me to take care of the thing he loves most in this world does a lot to make up for it.
That’s all I really wanted from him when we met.
Although now that I have it, it’s difficult not to want so much more. To want everything.
But everything has never been on offer, and there’s no point in deluding myself that it could be now.
“And I think you have questionable tastes,” he replies, nudging my shoulder until I roll onto my back.
“Though I’m not inclined to complain.” Cal trails kisses along my neck, but instead of the escalation I’m expecting, he lies beside me and takes my hand in his.
His thumb rhythmically caresses my palm as he studies it intently, and I’m nearly lulled to sleep by the hypnotic comfort of it when he asks, “Can we talk about something for a minute?”
The slight hesitance in his voice has me fully awake. I’m not sure if I like where this is heading. “Sure. What’s up?”
He shifts, resting his back against the turned spindles of the headboard. I look up at him from the pillow, and he takes a moment to run his fingers through my hair before he speaks. “I didn’t know that you were planning to open your own shop in Asbury Park.”
“Oh, uh…” I falter, surprised by his choice of topic, along with the odd cloud of gravity that hovers over the words.
“Yeah. It’s something I’ve been working toward for a while now.
One of the reasons I was willing to come down here and help out for a few weeks was so I could learn more about brick-and-mortar retail. ”
“You never mentioned it to me,” he says quietly. “Why?”
Huh. I guess I never did bring it up. “It didn’t really seem to matter?”
“It’s something you care about, Annie. Of course it matters.”
“I mean, it isn’t like I was trying to hide it or anything,” I explain. “It’s just, well, when we first met, there didn’t seem to be a point in telling you I hoped to open a business of my own when you were treating me like I was barely competent enough to use a vacuum.”
Cal takes in my words and says, “I really am sorry for that.”
I take his hand and give it a squeeze. “You’re forgiven,” I assure him.
“And then, you know, after things changed between us…” My eyes focus on the ceiling, searching the texture there for both the right words and the courage I need to say them.
“I’ve really enjoyed this time we’ve spent together.
Here, in your bed. Down in the shop. Across half the city while tracking down an illicit goose.
” I smile up at him briefly, and force myself to keep looking at his face as I continue.
“I didn’t want to talk about the future, because it felt like acknowledging that this all will have to end. ”
His palm comes to cup my face. “Does it, though? Does it really have to?”
A question I have asked myself several times over the last few days, always answered with the same worry that, even if Cal doesn’t realize it now, he’ll get bored with me one day.
The lust currently influencing his feelings will fade.
And then I’ll be left with nothing except a shattered heart.
Or, even worse, I’ll try to contort myself into someone else, someone with whom he believes he can build a life, in a desperate attempt to keep him.
“Cal…”
“Wait. Let me…let me just say some stuff first.” He adjusts our hands so that our fingers are threaded together instead of mine holding his, then gently tugs until I sit up beside him.
“After Nicole broke up with me, I kind of assumed I would remain alone for the rest of my life. Because how would I find something like that again? And it had to be something like that, because that was all I knew. The only way I could imagine a connection, a relationship, looking and feeling. But then…then you came along, Annie, and you just…completely fucked up my shit, didn’t you? ”
I can’t help but chuckle at the bewildered expression on his face.
“To be clear, I mean that in the very best way possible,” he adds.
“I figured.”
“You came here and you argued with me and pointed out when I was a jerk and then you blackmailed me. You walked into Virtu and immediately hijacked my every thought, my dreams. My very being. It felt like I’d spent my whole life looking for the perfect rug—one I’d started to believe probably didn’t exist, or at least not in the right dimensions to fit the space.
Instead, I stumbled across the most interesting side table, exquisite in every way.
And it fit so perfectly in a spot that had always been missing something I could never quite put my finger on.
It made the room feel complete. Finally whole.
” His eyes drop to our joined hands, then return to my face.
“In this metaphor, the room is my heart, and you are the side table.”
I stare at him, blinking rapidly as tears fill my eyes, overwhelmed by the confession even though I could have probably seen it coming from a mile away.
I can’t say I haven’t noticed Cal’s growing feelings for me.
I’ve felt it in every kiss, every touch, every quip and every laugh I pull out of him.
I’ve felt it since he first touched me, and I knew what it was, even if I tried to ignore it and pretend I wasn’t feeling it all right back.
I clear my throat, aware that he’s expecting me to respond. “I think maybe I’m starting to understand where your trouble with women comes from if you’re walking around thinking of relationships as shopping for rugs and side tables.”
“You know how seriously I take rugs and side tables, so I doubt that’s my problem.”
“Cal.”
His smile settles at the tone in my voice, his eyes—almost gold in the faint glow of the streetlight coming in through the window—tracking the silent tears that have escaped down my face.
“What is it?” he asks softly, brushing an errant piece of hair off my cheek before it gets plastered there by the wetness.
“I don’t know…how to do this. I’ve never…”
Instead of making another joke, he simply waits for me. Patiently. He’s let his guard down enough to be able to sit with the silence instead of filling it with sarcasm, and that makes the tears come faster.
“I’ve told you before how I learned to hide myself away when I was younger.
” He nods, acknowledging that he recalls that part of our Truth or Dare game the night we were stuck in the mansion.
“I learned how to be someone else, whoever I needed to be to get the approval from men that I never managed to find with my peers by being myself. All of them eventually moved on to more serious relationships with women closer to their own age or stage in life. But I could always fall back on the knowledge that it wasn’t me they were deciding they didn’t want anymore, it was the character I played for them.
” I wipe my eyes with the back of my forearm.
“But with you…I’ve been myself from the very beginning.
You are the first man in a long, long time who’s gotten to meet the real Annie O’Neill. ”
“And it’s been the greatest honor of my life,” he whispers. “God. You’re so vivid, Annie. Bright, dazzling, beautiful. A little unexpected.” Cal’s fingers tenderly trace the shell of my ear. “Being around you is like taking a wrong turn and ending up on Thirty-Fourth Street on Christmas Eve.”
“Is this your way of telling me that you’re sexually aroused by light displays?” I joke through a wet laugh.
“Listen, I have no idea what will do it for me these days, and I blame you for that. It’s your fault I get half hard thinking about meatball subs.
” He grins at my continued laughter before becoming earnest again.
“Your glow is what I admire most about you. What I…what I love most. So, even if it’s selfish to ask, I have to. ”
He brings my palm to his mouth and kisses the center of it, lingeringly, gently. “Stay in Baltimore with me, Annie. Even if you don’t know how to do this, I do. It’s possible it’s the only thing I was ever built for. Please, stay here and let me love you.”
Could it really be as easy as he makes it sound?
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t started dreaming of it.
Early this morning as I was dusting off the glassware, the faint sound of Cal whistling some classical piece drifted to my ears from the back office, and I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give up on the idea of a store of my own and just keep working at Virtu.
And I could keep creating pieces and selling them online too.
It’s so tempting to say yes, invite this time we’ve shared to stretch out infinitely. To take a chance on this being different than the relationships in my past. On Cal actually, genuinely loving me, and not just until he comes to his senses, but for something like forever.
But the fear lingers, casting shadows over each of my thoughts and reminding me that if it isn’t different I stand to lose either my heart, my self-regard, or both.
Except surely it must count for something that I fit so well here, in Cal’s life, without having to force anything or pretend.
That he’s falling for the person I already am and want to keep being.
If I stay in Baltimore with him, I probably wouldn’t have my own storefront for a while, or maybe ever.
But that’s a small price to pay, in the grand scheme of things, if it means getting everything else I’ve ever wanted.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah?” I’ve never seen him look this elated, and I haven’t even agreed yet.
“Yeah.” The word doesn’t even fully make it past my lips before he kisses me, and the genuine emotion in it is enough to push the lingering fear to the far edges, where it’ll be much easier to ignore.
Yet as I lie in Cal’s bed in the early hours of the morning, exhausted but unable to sleep, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he snores quietly beside me, I can’t seem to shake the conviction that my happiness shouldn’t have to come at a cost at all.