Chapter Twenty-Two
Theo
Silence looms over us on the drive back to her house. Darla stares out the passenger window. She doesn’t even crack up when I purposely sing off-key to every tune on the radio. I thought we were having fun, but things went south fast, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t like to apologize for wanting to volunteer, but it’s obvious I struck a nerve with her.
When I stop the car in her driveway, I get out, but I’m not ready to say good-bye. I don’t want the day to end this way. She slides out of the car and starts up the driveway.
Oh crap. The gift. “I almost forgot.”
She turns back toward me.
I retrieve a gift bag and hand it to her. “Happy birthday.”
“You didn’t have to do this,” she says, not making eye contact. She flings tissue paper all over the driveway and takes out a DVD of Romeo and Juliet. She squeals with laughter. Maybe I haven’t ruined everything after all.
“This is perfect. But I didn’t get you anything for your birthday.”
I scrunch my forehead. “Sure, you did. Spending time with you is all I could ever ask for. It’s something I should have done a long time ago.” I wink at her. “Did you enjoy your birthday?”
She wraps her arms around my neck and whispers, “Yes, thank you.”
I slide my arms around her waist and tug her closer. “You’re welcome. I’m so sorry about what I said earlier.”
She bows her head. “I have no idea how hard it’s been for you, the sacrifices you make every day. Please forgive me.” She wipes a tear away and leans back, but I don’t let go. “I’m sorry for being so touchy.”
“I’ve already forgotten it.”
She swallows hard. “Why did you do all this?”
I stare at her. “You don’t know?” I lean in to kiss her, but she pivots her head.
“Please don’t,” she says softly.
“Not even a little peck? Aw, come on. Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to fall in love with me.”
A warm sensation fills my entire body. I rub her shoulders. “Uh, too late.”
She sucks in a breath. Again, I go in for a kiss, but she covers my mouth with her hand.
“If you kiss me, I know I’ll fall in love with you all over again, and I don’t want this to end.”
“Why would it end? Because I want to…” I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. That’s why she got so quiet in the car. Africa is a total buzzkill, and she didn’t know how to tell me. I let her go and lean up against my car. I took a chance telling her about my desire to be part of Doctors Without Borders, and it backfired on me. It’s fricking volunteer work; it’s in my DNA.
“Because of what I need to tell you. It might influence your plans, and I can’t make you feel guilty over your choices.”
“Tell me.”
“Trust me. You’ll hate me. I… God, why can’t I spit it out?” She rests her head on my chest.
I tilt her head up and press her forehead to mine. I stare into her eyes. They are filled with such sadness. I wish I knew how to fix what was wrong so she would be happy.
“You said again.”
She closes her eyes. “Huh?”
“You said you would fall in love with me… again. Again implies there was a before, so I’m guessing…” She was in love with me. I knew it. It wasn’t one-sided.
She buries her face in my shirt. “You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I hold on to her for a moment longer, breathing her breaths, smelling her baby-lotion scent, and soaking it all in. When I come up for air again, I abruptly let go. I rumble around in the backseat to fish out my Bible. It’s my source of comfort, my source of inspiration, and it’s the only place I can turn that will give me the words I know I have to say. I pace in front of my car, flipping through the pages until I find the scripture passage I’m searching for.
I lean back against the hood of my car. “I want to read something to you. First Corinthians,chapter thirteen, verses four through eight.”
I stop to clear the crud that has built up in my throat and blink my vision clear. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it’s exactly how I feel. She needs to know how much she means to me.
“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It does not dishonor others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”
I close my Bible and toss it through the open car window. Tears streak down her cheeks. I take her face in my hands and wipe away the teardrops I’ve caused.
“I love you, Darla. Whatever you have to tell me and whenever you tell me, I promise I will not be easily angered, and I won’t keep record of wrongdoings, and I won’t delight in evil. I will rejoice in the truth. I will always protect you. And you, my sweet love, can always trust me. I won’t fail you.”
She stands there with her mouth open. I softly close it with my finger and cup her face with my hands.
Her lip quivers. “That was the most beautiful…” Her body trembles, so I hold her close.
I kiss her so softly at first. This is really finally happening. I wrap my arms around her. I kiss her over and over again, my tongue exploring that familiar mouth of hers that I have missed so much. My hands run under her shirt, touching her warm, soft back. She lets out a slight moan, and her hands grip my shoulders. I don’t care what happens next. Right now, I love her, and I know she has never stopped loving me.
It’s quite obvious where this is heading, and I certainly have no plans to stop it. Suddenly, a lion roars, and I realize my phone is ringing.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I shout. I lean back against my car, coming up for air. I think my lips are bruised from the passion of our kisses. I snatch my phone from my pocket.
Darla stumbles backward, out of breath. Her poor cheek is raw from my sandpaper-rough near-beard. She leans over my car’s hood and sucks in air.
“Sorry, it’s work. I have to take this.” I swipe my hand over the phone and snap at the innocent person on the other end of the call. “What?”
“Hi, Dr. Edwards, this is Carmen from the ER.”
“Sorry, I’m, um, in the middle of something.”
“Er, I hate to break up the lovefest, but we’ve got two life-flight helicopters coming in from a five-car pileup on I-40, plus we’re busting at the seams with patients today. Can you come in?”
“Oh, all right. Yeah. Uh, can you get me some scrubs to change into?”
“Sure thing, Doc. And I’m sorry to bother you.”
I hang up the phone and groan then bang my head on the hood of my car. This is just my luck. “I have to go. It’s actually a five-car pileup. Some of the injured are coming in by Life Flight.”
She touches my face. “Your ringtone is a lion?”
I shrug as I wrap my arms around her waist and tap her forehead with mine. She kisses the tip of my nose.
“Work is a lion because they always call at the most inopportune times, and it makes me growl.” I show her my frequent caller list. “Mom’s is her voice saying, ‘Turn on, tune in, drop out.’ Dad’s is John 3:16. Tommy’s is his voice saying, ‘Risk, the game of world domination.’ And my sister is nails on a chalkboard.”
She giggles. “Your sister is nails on a chalkboard? That’s awful.”
My face hurts from the perma-smile. “You haven’t met my sister.”
“What is my ringtone?”
I bat my eyes and gaze far off. “Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo.”
“I stepped right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Yep.”
She kisses me on the cheek. “Now go. See you tomorrow.”
I kiss her again. I like this kissing tennis match we’re playing, especially when the score is love-love. I have to leave, but not forever. It seems as though we are finally moving in the right direction together, so I’m going to do everything in my power to keep us moving forward. Somehow, I need her to trust me enough to get over her secret hurdle. And she needs to meet my parents. Plus, we need to finish that kissing match we started.