Chapter 11 #2
“If I could redo one moment in my life,” he said, “it would be that conversation. If I could reach back and take away every one of those words, I would. But I can’t.
” He looked at me steadily. “What I can do is spend the rest of my life asking for your forgiveness. I want to spend my life with you, Maple. Or I want to spend it apologizing to you. Either way, I’m not going anywhere. ”
When I started working as a pole dancer, I realized that every man who looked at me only saw a body, a convenience, a means to an end.
Cade had been the first man who looked at me like I was a person.
Who asked questions and waited for the answers and showed up for me and River, without asking for anything in return. He had been the first one.
And maybe those words I heard were from his worst moment, not his truest one.
Or maybe they were both.
I didn’t know. That was the problem. I genuinely did not know.
“I need more time,” I said. “What you said hurt me very badly. And every choice I make, I make with River in mind first. You’re the only male role model he’s ever known and if you leave again — I can’t think about what that’d do to his ability to trust people.
” I looked at him. “I need to think this through, Cade.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said. “Years, if that’s what it takes. You’ll still find me by your and River’s side.”
I looked at his eyes, trying to find a hint of deceit. I couldn’t find any of that. His eyes are sharp and clear and he was looking right at me without flinching, as if he had nothing to hide.
“MAPLE.”
We both turned.
River was standing at the wall with his arms out, brush in one hand, paint on both forearms, grinning.
“Look,” he said.
We walked over.
The graffiti was gone. Every tag, every ugly spray-painted line, every bad decision from that Wednesday afternoon — covered completely.
The wall was blank and ready for new possibilities.
Later that evening, River and I were doing the dishes together after dinner. He washed. I dried. The kitchen was very quiet, just the sound of the water running and the occasional clink of a plate.
“Are you and Cade back together?” River asked.
I stopped drying mid-dish.
How did he find out?
He was looking at the sink, not at me, slowly wringing out the dishcloth.
“How did you know we weren’t even together?” I asked.
“I just knew. I can spot a break-off from a mile away.”
“No, we’re not together anymore.” I said quietly.
River nodded. He took the next plate and started washing it.
After a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence, he turned off the faucet.
“I’m sure he must have done something really bad.”
I owed River the truth about me and Cade. It was time.
“He said some really bad things about me to his friend Kyle and I heard them. What he said made me realise that we were headed in two different directions and he was not really serious about me. He said…well, he said some really mean things.”
“Did he say he didn’t want to be with you?”
Oh, you bet.
“Yes, he did.”
River crinkled his eyebrows. He thought for a long time.
“Then why is he still in your life? And mine?”
Good question buddy. I’m trying to figure that out too.
“Becasue he says he was not sure he loved me when he said those things, but now he realizes he does.”
“And do you believe him?” River asked.
That was a fairly simple question. Did I believe him? If I set aside the words that came out of his mouth that night and only considered his actions since then, did I find him genuine?
I put the dried plate down on the counter.
“I’m not sure.”
And that was the simple truth.
“Can you forgive his mistakes? The way you forgave mine?” River asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I genuinely don’t know, River.”
He nodded again. Still not looking at me.
“I really liked him,” he said. “Like, from the very first time. You wouldn’t know that, because I gave him a hard time at the beginning, but that was just because—“ He shrugged. “You know. I didn’t want some guy coming in and pretending.” He handed me another plate.
“But he didn’t pretend. That’s the thing. He wasn’t faking it.”
“He made you happy,” River continued. He looked back at the sink. “I saw it. Every time he came around, you were — I don’t know. Different. The good kind of different.” He was quiet for a second.
“And I want you to be happy, Maple.”
I didn’t say anything.
River’s voice cracked slightly. “You’re always making sure I’m happy. Now it’s my turn.”
He scrubbed at a pot that didn’t need that much scrubbing.
The kitchen was very quiet.
“I liked you both together,” he said. Quietly. A little sadly. “I just — I liked it.”
I put the dish down.
I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him sideways into me, this fourteen-year-old who was already taller than I remembered and still the same four-year-old I carried onto a bus in the dark.
“When did you get so wise?” I said.
“I’ve always been wise,” he said into my shoulder. “You just don’t notice because I’m also an idiot sometimes.”
I laughed even as I felt a weird tug in the back of my throat. Before I could stop it, a tear rolled down my left eye. River reached out and brushed it with the back of his hand.
We stood in the kitchen like that for a minute. Then he straightened up and went back to the pot.
“I’m just saying,” he said, scrubbing again. “Think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
***