THIS LOVE #2
The paper has to come off. It has to be today. Tonight. Right now. I can’t abide one more night with it hanging over this bed. Over my life.
“I’m ready,” I whisper, hoarse and depleted into the dim light of my bedroom. Laying on the floor, I’m surrounded by strips of tattered wallpaper and staring at a ceiling that’s now messy and imperfect but no longer a floral, forest green reminder of all the losses I’ve suffered.
I take measure of the sound of my breaths, in from my nose and out from my mouth.
Then lick my lips, tasting the salt of tears and sweat there.
I feel the hardwood beneath my fingertips and count each digit off against the wood grain.
Finally, rolling over with aches and pains coursing through all my nerves, I crawl towards the nightstand where my phone rests and make the call I’ve denied myself all day.
He answers on the first ring.
“Emory?” Jordan’s voice is scratchy with sleep, a reminder that it’s the middle of the night, and I didn’t think to check the time. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
“What tattoo did you get today?”
He’s shuffling around on the other end of the line. I imagine him staring at a ceiling exactly like I am right now. Shirtless, with sleep lines on his face. Maybe his glasses are placed neatly next to a bedside table with a glass of water and a book. Inexplicably, I want to know. Everything.
“What… what's going on? Have you been crying?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly. My voice cracks, but I’m not sad in the slightest. If anything, it’s the opposite. I’m so relieved he picked up the phone—that I’m hearing his voice—that I want to cry all over again.
“Red…” His voice is soft and sweet. I wish he were lying on the floor beside me, holding my hand. Instead, it sounds like he’s walking around his room. “What do you need?”
“I’m sorry I woke you up. I just… I wanted to talk to you. I want to see you.”
“Okay.” He closes a door.
Looking at the time, I wince. It’s after three, and I sound like a lovesick teenager. At least half of that may be true. I wonder how long it would take him to get here if I asked. How selfish does it make me that I obviously care less about his sleep and more about my security?
“I know it’s late, but I’ve…”
I’ve what? Wanted to make out with you all day.
Thought about you sleeping here and waking up here and making breakfast and living your life here instead of in the room at your parent’s house.
That the timing is strange, but I’m suddenly dreaming up a life with you, and I’m scared at how badly I want it and how terrible it would be to lose it.
“I… Can you tell me about the tattoos? The ones for James.”
He doesn’t laugh or avoid. Instead, Jordan begins to tell the story of each piece of ink he’s gotten in James’ memory.
“Well, you know about the beets. The next year was James’ birth month flower, on my forearm.
The compass was for my dad the next year.
He used to say John Wayne was a man who knew true north, and he hoped I’d be a man who did, too. ”
“Do you think you do? Know true north?”
“Yeah, Red. I’m getting there.”
“And the butterfly?” I settle into the pile of papers, hardly caring about the crinkle under my body, and mentally tally all the pieces across Jordan’s skin. I close my eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over me, a healing balm, mending the cracks of my heart.
“That was year five. Mom and Bill both have butterflies, too. They came to visit me in South Carolina and asked if they could join the tradition.”
“No way. I love that… Maybe I should get one.” I smile, holding my hand into the air and visualizing a permanent piece of art on my wrist or forearm. “Do you miss it? South Carolina and your life there?”
“Not a bit. I don’t want to be anywhere but here, Emory. With you and Molly. I should have been here all along.”
“In some ways, I’m glad you weren’t. I don’t think we would be where we’re at now… It would have been too hard.”
He hums an agreement, and I make a choice.
Mom used to warn me that nothing good ever happens after eleven, which is a good spout of wisdom, to be sure.
Yet, I can’t help but feel like inviting Jordan over into my mess right now is the smartest choice I can make.
I’m so tired of doing everything alone. I’m just…
tired. And I really want Jordan to be the one beside me while I put this house back together.
“Will you come over?” I close my eyes, imagining him here now. “Please?”
“Yes,” Jordan says softly, but I hear him through the phone and in the doorway, where he’s appeared.
As if all my wishing and hoping all day could have conjured him up so much sooner.
He strides slowly across my bedroom floor, his bare feet hardly making a sound as he walks over the scraps of paper I’ve left strewn across the room, and joins me on the bed of wallpaper I’ve made for myself.
“You… you got here so quickly.”
“Did I? It felt like forever.”
“You were in the barn loft, weren’t you?” I don’t actually care, as long as he doesn’t leave now.
He shrugs guiltily. “I didn’t want to be far tonight. In case…”
“I needed you,” I confirm when he’s lying on his side, hand framing my cheek. I turn to face him, propping my head under my arm. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Sweetheart…” He’s so gentle, as his thumb makes delicate passes along my jawline.
“You’ve never called me that before. No one has.” I like it. It isn’t Red or Em or anything that anyone in my life has ever referred to me as. It feels special.
Even in the shadows, I see the blush crawl up his neck. “Bill calls me that sometimes. It always makes me feel… cherished.”
A hope-filled flower blooms in my chest. I do feel cherished. I feel loved.
I love him.
The realization steals my breath, but when Jordan tucks hair behind my ear, pulls me into his chest, and kisses my forehead that love only solidifies.
My heart finally catches up to my brain and body.
I’m nestled and safe and feel the most precious sense of peace because Jordan Love has become my best friend.
My person. I just know if I closed my eyes right now, I’d wake up in this very spot in his arms, and all of those same feelings would remain.
I love him.
I think that thought will stay.
“I’m sorry this day exists. That it’s so hard,” he says, arms tightening around me.