Very
Bad Things
Extended
Epilogue
Epilogue
(round 2 of the National Belltone Spelling Bee) is defined as a brief
description of the fates of characters within a novel. On the day of the big
competition, epilogue hadn’t been my
word to spell, yet the term comes to mind as I consider my future with Leo.
Perhaps our fates have been on your
mind as well…
“Sometimes,
for no discernible reason, I wake up at 3:00 am and gaze at Leo. Without him
knowing, I softly stroke his face and kiss his lips.” –Nora
Blakely
Nora
A few days before Christmas
I
pulled into the parking lot at Club Vita, my stomach fluttering at the thought
of seeing Leo. I’d been gone for two days on a shopping trip to Austin with
Aunt Portia, and even though I loved spending time with her, I’d missed him
terribly. This was the first time we’d been apart since the Halloween party.
At
least the gym was closed for the night and we’d be alone. But I’d arrived
earlier than I told him. I nibbled on my nail. What if he didn’t like
surprises? What if he had too much work to do and I’d just be in the way? I
peered up at his bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
I
knew Sebastian was gone. He was out with Cuba at the Briarcrest Academy winter
dance. It was the annual football and cheerleader formal, and while most guys
took dates, Sebastian and Cuba hadn’t. I didn’t think for a minute those two
would be alone at the dance though. Nope. They never were. Girls were always
calling or texting or following Sebastian around, especially since he’d started
doing band gigs at Gilligan’s. Cuba wasn’t any different. I’d watched him
enough to know he had a new girl every month. My gut knew he didn’t care about
any of them. My heart recognized that something in him was broken.
I
carried Aunt Portia’s bags to her car, kissed her cheek, and promised to call
her in the morning so we could talk about the big Christmas dinner Leo had
decided to have at the Tate loft. She was doing the desserts, Leo was cooking
the turkey and stuffing, Sebastian volunteered for the mashed potatoes, Teddy
and his sister were bringing the green bean casserole, and believe it or
not…Cuba was coming as well.
Maybe
he’d bring an exotic Brazilian dish. Yeah. The more food, the merrier.
Honestly,
I’d been floored when Leo had acquiesced to Sebastian’s plea to invite Cuba. He’ll be alone on Christmas, Sebastian had
told us. And those were the magic words for Leo to agree. He might be a tad
possessive of me, but he couldn’t stand the thought of someone without family during
the holidays. He also knew I wasn’t going to add Cuba to my bad list. I loved him.
Yes,
Cuba and I had flirted at the park and at Emma’s party, but the entire time,
I’d sensed it was all just an act. I could have been any attractive,
warm-bodied female. When I’d turned down his threesome idea, he hadn’t cared.
Not really. He’d moved on to the next available person in line, which turned
out to be Emma Easton. In fact, the rumor at BA was he’d been seen having sex
with Emma and another girl from the party. In the pool house. Classy.
Thinking
of Emma brought back the memory of the pool-push
incident as Mila liked to call it. Apparently, she’d used her phone to
video the entire episode of our embarrassing girl-fight. I kept waiting to see
it on YouTube because Mila may look sweet as pie, but underneath she had the
soul of a little vixen. As far as Cuba and Emma went, I guess they’d hooked up
after she’d dried off? Who cared? I was just thankful it wasn’t Sebastian who
had a thing for her.
I’d
gotten brave and invited Dad to Christmas dinner as well. He’d said yes. We’d
see if he really showed up. I’d been meeting him for lunch after my therapy
sessions once a week. Sometimes we didn’t say much, but it worked for us. He
was giving me his time. Something
he’d never done before. I knew his faults and that he wasn’t likely to change,
and he knew the terrible truth about what had happened to me. Our
reconciliation would be a good thing and would take time and effort on both our
parts. I didn’t have a crystal ball; I didn’t know where our talking was
leading, but I wanted to spend time with him. I needed to see where it might go
because I wanted him as part of my Christmas. I wanted him as part of my
future.
As
far as Mother went, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive her, mostly
because it’s hard to forgive someone when they haven’t asked for it. Yet,
because my heart knew that letting go of the past was the best way to move
forward, I was trying. I’d hardened my heart against her years ago, but I
think…I think I was beginning to feel pity
for her instead. She had nothing, not the love of a husband or a daughter or a
son.
Like
a shell, she was empty and cold.
She’d
never be one of the beads on my happy necklace.
Mother
was yesterday’s garbage, and I wouldn’t ever let her influence me or make me
into someone who did bad things. I would never let her steal the light from me
again, never let her break my spirit.
But,
just maybe, I could release her. Forgive her for not loving me.
I’d
learned that you can’t let the shame of your past affect your future. I had Leo
and it was enough. Deep inside my soul, I was putting one foot in front of the
other, taking each day as it came, and I
knew I was moving in the direction I wanted to go, in the direction of
happiness. The sun felt brighter, the birds sounded sweeter, and the world was
mine. Why? Because I loved us enough
to work on making myself better.
It
was progress.
Chilly
from the brisk evening breeze, I hurried to the gym door, a handful of wrapped
packages in my hand. Today had been a successful shopping day with a pair of
handmade boots for Sebastian, some music CDs for Teddy, and a book of Bob
Dylan’s song lyrics for Leo.
I
smiled to myself, picturing him reading to me aloud while we were in bed,
something he’d taken to doing since we’d been together these past two months.
I’d lie there and watch his mouth, relishing every syllable that fell from his sensuous
lips.
It
seemed we talked constantly to each other, whether it was mundane and silly or
vital to our future. I don’t think he’s a man of many words. He says what he
needs and moves on. Yet, we couldn’t get enough of conversation. I ached to
hear his voice tell me about his day. I devoured his facial expressions when he
told a story about something Teddy had said or done.
Aunt
Portia claimed that being able to have meaningful conversations with the person
you loved was a gift. She said it meant we would make it, that we would grow
old together, still talking about the things we loved.
I
think she’s right.
I
jangled the keys as I opened the front door, hoping to get Leo’s attention. I
walked into the darkened foyer and looked around, expecting to see him come
running down the stairs. He didn’t. Disappointed, I went up the stairs to the loft
where I’d been living.
I
passed the eight-foot, live Christmas tree we’d put up over Thanksgiving.
Usually I couldn’t pass it without going over and admiring all the homemade
ornaments Leo’s parents had made with them when they were kids: cute pictures
of them glued to snowflakes cut-outs, pictures of them smiling (or crying when
they were babies) as they sat in Santa’s lap. Such a happy family. No wonder
Leo missed them every day.
But
I didn’t have time for gazing at ornaments now. I needed to see Leo.
Loud
music blared from his closed door and I considered knocking, but I didn’t. I
rushed in and bam! someone scooped me
up and swung me around, making the packages cascade to the ground. I squealed
in delight and wrapped my legs around his hips.
“About
time you got here. Been going insane without you,” Leo said in a growly voice
that sent shivers down my spine. He kissed me hard, his eager mouth searching,
his tongue demanding entry. Passionately, I gave it right back to him, eating
him up, returning his ferocity. Hard and fast. It was always like this with us,
and I’d never get enough.
He
pushed me up against the bedroom wall, pinning me there. He moaned. I moaned. Leo.
He
came up for air but barely moved his mouth from mine. “Mmm, I needed that,” he
murmured, closing his eyes briefly. “So damn glad you’re here early.”
I
stared at him for a moment, taking it all in: the overly long blonde hair, the
shadow on his hard-as-granite jaw, his pale-blue eyes that seemed to see right
to the heart of me.
This
man loved me.
“Miss
me?” I said, giving him a swift nuzzle on his neck.
He
pressed his hardness firmly against my center. “How’s that for an answer?”
“How’s
it possible that two little days seemed like a million years,” I said a bit
breathless, tightening my legs around him, arching closer.
“Thought
I was gonna have to come to Austin and get you,” he said, his heavy-lidded eyes
never leaving mine. “I don’t like sleeping without you, Buttercup. Not a bit.”
“Then
let’s move to the bed,” I said with urgency. “I’m ready.”
He
chuckled and gave me a quick peck. “Hold on, there’s something I want to show
you first.” He set me down and stepped away from me.
“Uh,
okay,” I said, sighing heavily. What
could be more important than us making up for lost time?
He
smirked at my surly expression, kissed the tip of my nose, and grinned like he
had a secret.
“Come
over by the window.” He laced our fingers together and led me over to the
floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over Dallas.
I
let him guide me, watching how his powerful body moved across the floor in his
low-slung jeans and black wife-beater. I wanted to rip that shirt off him and
lick all over his dragon. I wanted to toss him on that bed and show him a few
new things I’d thought of this weekend.
Because
smart girls are creative.
And
he wanted me to look out the window.
We
reached it, and he held me tight with one arm while his other hand pointed up
at the dark sky. “I know stars are important to you because your face gets all
dreamy when you look out this window…and sometimes…I can’t help but wonder what
you’re thinking about when you gaze up at them.”
“About
you. About us,” I said, my heart full. “Stars give me hope.”
“And you’ve never given up wishing on stars.
You told me so.” He paused and glanced at me sheepishly. “Honestly, you’ve
inspired me a little, and well, I’ve been doing some reading up on stars
myself.”
I
blinked. I inspired him? He was the one who loved others
selflessly. He was the one who’d
taken over the care of a child at eighteen. He
was the one who’d seen past my bad list. He
was my inspiration.
“What
did you find out during your research?” I asked.
He
pointed up at one of the constellations. “That group of stars over to the left
is called Orion the Hunter. It was named after a fierce warrior in Greek
mythology.”
I
looked up and nodded, recognizing the familiar group of stars in the winter
sky.
He
continued. “The two stars at the top are his shoulders, the two toward the
bottom are his legs. In the middle, you have the three stars that make the belt
and then…and here’s the important part…there’s several stars going down from the belt. Those are his sword
and that’s what I want you to see…that like Orion’s sword, you’re a star too.”
“I’m
not a star,” I whispered, turning to look at him, blinking at the sudden
dampness in my eyes.
“You’re
better than a star.”
I
bit my lip and peered back up at the heavens. “How?”
“Look
at the sword. Hard,” he said. “Can you tell that one of the stars is fuzzier
than the rest?”
I
squinted and then nodded. Sure enough the stars going down from the belt were
not as clear as the others. Not as bright.
He
said, “It’s blurry because one of those isn’t really a star at all. It’s something much more beautiful.” He
turned me to face him. “It’s a nebula…a
real nebula…where new stars are being born every day, every minute,
becoming part of our universe. That fuzzy star actually creates life. That
star, just like you, is a beginning. It’s life, it’s truth, it’s hope, it’s
what we are made of.” He paused and
shook his head as if in amazement. “That star is creation at its best, and just
like those new stars being born, so are
you. You are being born again. You are starting all over, with a fresh
slate, and the night sky is all yours, Nora.”
He
kissed my hands with reverence. “Inside you right now is the life you’ve always
deserved, a soulmate, a family, happiness.”
Tears
streamed down my face at the conviction I heard in his voice.
God,
how he looked at me. How he loved me. How I loved him.
His
thumbs gently rubbed my tears away. “Did I make you cry? I didn’t mean to.”
“Happy
tears, Leo,” I said. “It’s been such a
long road, but here I am, in your arms. Life doesn’t get any better than this.”
He
slid to his knees in front of me.
I
stared down at him in confusion. What?
He
spoke quietly, yet with assurance. “A hundred years from now nebulas will still
be creating the universe. A hundred years from now…if we are still around…I
will still love you. I want to be
with you for as long as we both have left in this world. I want to be the one
to wipe your tears, soothe your heartaches, rejoice in your successes. I want
to help you destroy the demons that haunt you. Someday, the bitterness and hurt
you carry will fade. I can see it already, and I yearn, and I mean physically
yearn to be there with you.”
His
hands tightened around my hips. Like I was his lifeline. “Let me be part of
your beautiful chaos.”
He
tugged something from his jeans and opened it.
The
world held its breath.
With
quivering hands I lightly touched the diamond solitaire ring resting inside the
teal box, half afraid it would suddenly disappear.
“Nora
Grace Blakely, will you marry me? I want it now,
but it doesn’t have to be tomorrow or next year, but I need to know you’re
mine. I promise I will never waver again, never be unsure. I was half a man
until I met you. I thought I had it all together, but I was dead wrong. I want
to be committed to you…long term.” He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. “Be my star, Nora.”
I
cupped his face, slid down to my knees and nodded, mute.
With
shaking hands, he slid the ring on my finger.
This
was our new beginning, the creation of our future.
“I
belong to you,” I said softly.
His
mouth tipped up in a grin. “That’s a yes, then?”
I
looked into his opal eyes, the ones that had captured me in that parking lot
months ago. That fateful day, his gaze had given me strength and hope. Destiny
had intertwined our lives, had thrown us together time and time again.
Some
people say that true love is a myth, that soulmates don’t exist. I feel sadness
for those cynical souls. They’ll never know the high that comes from being with
the one you’re meant to be with. They’ll never experience the absolute
rightness of finding their true mate.
“Hey,
you gonna answer me?” he murmured, lifting my chin up.
“Yes,
Leo. Yes, yes, yes. I want to marry you. I will follow you wherever you go. I
want to have little Tate babies who play the guitar and piano. I am yours.”
He
swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes misted as he rested his forehead
against mine, as if in relief. “Best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten,” he
said.
We
stared at each other for a long time, our bodies fitting like pieces of a
puzzle, our hearts beating as one. This was
one of those extraordinary moments I would never forget; this was a moment that would sustain me in times of strife; this was the universe aligning; this was perfection.
This
was love.
He
breathed me in. Minutes passed, perhaps hours. I don’t know. All I knew was him and the way he made me feel.
Exquisite and precious. Like I was the queen of his world. As the
constellations watched from above, as the night sounds of the city buzzed in
the background, as people went about their normal lives, we combusted. Like the
most delicious white-hot fire.
We
lunged for each other, both of us falling to the ground in a tangle of legs and
arms.
He
stripped me in seconds, his hands shaking with emotion.
I
tore his tank off and traced every part of his tat with my tongue. I kissed his
face, his neck, his shoulders, his chest.
“Forever,”
he whispered against my bare skin, the devotion in his voice making my heart
fly.
“Forever,”
I promised.
And
it was.
