Chapter 45
45
RHYS
“ C an you believe they still haven’t sold this thing?”
Maddie laughs. “Honestly? Yes. Yes, I can.”
“The first time I have four thousand dollars to spare, I’m buying.”
She guffaws. “You are not.”
“I am. It’ll be my prized possession.”
The six-foot-tall solid wood carving of a giant gnome has been sitting in the corner of the second-hand store on the small main street of our hometown since I first came into this store when I must have been five or six years old.
The four-thousand-dollar price tag hasn’t budged even a penny downward since then. The owner of the shop, Rufus, swears it’s a collector’s item and that one of these days, someone who knows what they’re looking at is going to stumble into this place and recognize the asking price as a steal.
My own theory is that someone hustled him badly early in his career as a shop owner and got away with murder selling it to him at a sky-high price, and he doesn’t have the heart to eat the loss.
It’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and Maddie and I have been wandering around our hometown. Everywhere we turn evokes a memory, a memory that now takes on richer, deeper hues in my mind now that Maddie and I are …
Well, I’ll know exactly what we are by the time I’m heading back to Cedar Shade on Sunday.
I swallow past the knot in my throat as we step out of the store onto the main street.
Maddie and I spent a lot of time in Rufus’s place when we were in high school, since he always had a big collection of vinyl records as well as a record player that you could try them out on, and it was a fun way to discover new music.
As we walk past Pete’s Diner, Maddie tilts her head toward it. “Do you remember that that was the first place we …”
I finish for her. “The first place we ever had a meal alone.” I grin. “Yeah, I remember.”
The fact that she does has warmth radiating from my chest through my limbs, more than strong enough to stave off the sharpness that entered the air these last couple days. The true coldness of winter is just starting to descend on the region.
We keep strolling side by side. “You came over to my house that evening. I told you that Lane was staying late for something with one of the clubs he was in at school,” she reminisces.
I nod. “Yep. Then I told you that I knew that. I was there to see if you wanted to get dinner. My mom was working late, and there was nothing in the refrigerator I was in the mood for, so I went hunting through the house for quarters until I’d scrounged up enough to pay for two meals.”
“This is so embarrassing, but …” she shakes her head quickly, a nostalgic laugh slipping from her. “In my head, I imagined it was a date.”
My heart pulses. She did? Was it just out of curiosity, because she was young and had never gone out for dinner with a guy before, and was just trying to get a sense of what being on a date would be like? Or was it because she wished it were a date, just like I did?
“I remember I’d just listened to that Joanna Newsom album you recommended me, and I was excited to talk about it with you,” I say.
“It was right around this time of year. Early December?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “It was so cold that evening. We walked from your place.”
“I remember how good it felt when we got inside, and I could warm my stinging cheeks.”
My palm and fingers are warm before I realize I’ve slid my hand into Maddie’s, and that we’ve been walking for who knows how long with our hands clasped, where anyone could see us in a town where practically everyone knows everyone.
Disappointment coils in my chest when Maddie pulls her hand away, and I feel nothing but the chill of the air around my fingers. She must have just realized the same thing.
We keep walking toward the river that runs through town. We approach a convenience store, one of the local spots we frequented the most growing up, just before a turn that leads to a trail that runs along the water.
“Maddie! Rhys!” Dean exclaims as the bells above the front door jingle. “Where’s Lane?”
Dean’s a real character, the kind of business owner who’s on a first-name basis with all his regular customers.
“At home,” Maddie answers. “I’m sure he’ll stop by before we go back to college.”
“He better,” Dean grouses playfully. “He needs to remember who gave him his first job when he was saving up for that Nintendo.”
I chuckle. “It was a PlayStation.”
Dean waves his hand dismissively. “Same thing.”
I don’t even have to ask Maddie what she wants to drink when I reach for two bottles of peach tea.
“Ah, two peach teas,” Dean says as he rings up our order. “Coulda guessed it.”
I spot Maddie reaching into her jacket pocket, but I beat her to the punch and hand over the cash to pay. I shoot her a triumphant wink when I hand her her bottle, and she rolls her eyes in response. We say goodbye to Dean and then turn onto the trail to stroll along the river, the path lined with trees that have by now shed most of their leaves.
A little bit down the path, we toss our empty peach tea bottles into a recycling bin placed along the trail.
“Isn’t it a funny coincidence that we both have the same favorite drink?” Maddie says as our bottles clang together in the bin.
“Coincidence?” A wispy puff of a laugh escapes my chest. I stop my stride and turn to Maddie. “Nothing about that fact is a coincidence.”
“Hm?” She hums questioningly, lifting her eyes to mine.
I shake my head while a sentimental smile plays on my lips.
“Peach tea is my favorite because it’s your favorite. I just loved the idea of us always sharing the same drink. That’s how everything is with me, Maddie. Vanilla is my favorite flavor of ice cream because it reminds me of the scent of your hair. Blue is my favorite color because it’s the color of your eyes. Haven’t you noticed? All my favorites are because of you.”
Her eyes go glossy with emotion, and I gently lower my forehead to press against hers.
Everywhere above our necks is cold from the crispy air, except for the spark of warmth where our skin touches. As we exhale, the chill makes the mingling of our breaths visible in the sunlight that slants through the bare branches.
The sight makes me reflect on how every aspect of myself, my heart, my mind, my personality, my memories are utterly entwined with the girl in front of me.
I think it’s time.
“Maddie …”
“Rhys?”
My eyelids flutter closed for a moment as I draw in a deep, fortifying breath. I open my eyes, my gaze reaching into Maddie’s.
“I don’t want us to stop,” I say.
I can’t pull in a breath for the silent beat of time that passes.
“I don’t either,” she answers.
“It’s not just that,” I continue. “I want it to be …” I swallow past the knot in my throat. “More.”
Another breathless moment of time stretches out.
“So do I,” she says.
Relief and joy weave through the entirety of my being, sinking into my soul.
I search for words to express the happiness that glows in my chest, but I can’t find any. My lips don’t know how to form any sounds that measure up to what I feel in my heart. There’s only one thing my lips can do that feels appropriate.
They close over Maddie’s, and I kiss her deep, both of us putting all our feelings that words can’t do justice to into the slant of our lips.
We’re already this far, there’s no point in holding back any further. No point in keeping from her how I’ve felt for so many damn years.
“Fuck, Maddie. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about this moment.”
Her eyelids pull back, something flashing in her eyes. “Really?”
I husk a laugh, my lips tugging. “Really.”
Her long eyelashes flutter like wings as she blinks away the moisture in her eyes. She bites at her bottom lip as she smiles. “Me, too.”
Her words spear me through the chest. “Really?”
She laughs at the conversational echo. “Really.”
My jaw opens, but I’m so taken aback that it takes me a moment to untie the knot my tongue is in. “How long?”
She shrugs. Her smile pulls higher. “Long enough that I can’t even remember when it started.”
I pull her close to me, tucking my chin on top of her head so her face presses against my chest and the smell of her hair swims in my nose.
“Me, too,” I breathe. We’re like broken records at this point, but what else is there to say?
Her arms curl around me, and she pulls herself close. I close my own arms tighter around the back of her shoulders, and we just stand there, holding each other as close as we can.
“Not as long as I have,” she says teasingly after a while.
“Longer,” I protest.
“Nuh-uh,” is her juvenile retort. “I’ve liked you longer.”
“Nuh-uh,” I blare just as childishly, “ I’ve liked you longer.”
She snakes her hands under my armpits and starts to tickle me, making me jolt with shock.
“I’ve liked you longer, admit it!” she demands.
“Never!” I side-step her and wrap my arms around her from behind, lifting her up as she kicks her feet in defiance.
“Put me down!”
“Not until you admit I liked you longer!”
“Put me down or I’ll scream!” she yells, though she’s yelling through peals of laughter.
I bring my mouth next to her ear and whisper roughly, “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made you do that.”
My heart feels like it’s floating above the clouds on a sunny spring day. I’ve never been happier. I still don’t know how we’re going to approach Lane about this, but right now, I can’t even summon enough anxiety to worry about the state of my relationship with my lifelong best friend.
Right now, Maddie and I are the only two people in the world.
As we’re laughing and horsing around, playfully arguing over who’s liked each other longest, it occurs to me that I’m using the wrong word.
I don’t like Maddie. I love her.
Maybe I should wait a while to say it. Until this new phase of our relationship is on a more stable footing. But we’ve both felt the same way about each other for years. We know each other in a way no one else does. The times I’ve spent with Maddie are the best times of my life, and there’s zero doubt in my mind about how I feel.
I’ve spent enough time holding back my real feelings from this girl. There’s no good reason to do that for any longer.
I set Maddie down. The lines of laughter slowly relax on our faces as I steady my breath, and seriousness gathers inside me over the words that are on the tip of my tongue.
“Maddie, I love you.”
What’s funny is I’m not even anxious during the small stretch of silence that follows my words. It’s like I can feel the vibration of her heart through the unbreakable thread that tethers it to mine.
“I love you, too, Rhys.”
We kiss again, our lips branding the truth of our words.
“I have really good news to share with you, Maddie,” I say, a wolfish desire sprouting in me.
“What’s that?”
“I have my house to myself until later tonight.”