Chapter 6

Alissa

 

 

“Seriously, Alissa, the man knows what he is doing with his hips,” Bella said, clutching her chest.

We had been sitting at my house drinking wine for over an hour as Bella went on and on about her new husband’s bedroom technique. I got up and walked over to the counter, my cheeks bright red, and poured another glass of wine. I sat back down in the chair facing my sister and shook my head as I sipped the warm red liquid.

“It’s like he knows exactly where to put that thing,” she said, sipping her wine. “I’m pretty sure it’s the best sex that I’ve ever had with someone.”

“You are too much,” I said, laughing embarrassingly. “I really don’t need to know about your husband’s bedroom antics.”

“Look,” she said, pointing at me. “It took me three tries to find the right man. I think I’ve earned the right to talk about his gorgeous dick.”

I flinched and laughed, waving at her to carry on if it made her feel better. All the while, Ryan kept creeping back into my thoughts. I wasn’t watching Kayla that evening, and I found that part of me missed being there, and not just because of Kayla. This man had somehow crept into my mind and continued to make an appearance several times a day. At that point, though, I didn’t mind the distraction as much as I thought I would, and I could feel the butterflies in my chest whenever my mind tumbled over his tanned, hard muscles. Bella, however, didn’t notice my distraction and just continued on.

Bella was amazing, free-spirited, and completely in love with being in love. This was her third husband, but she wasn’t bitter about men at all. She felt like you had to go through a few men before you found the one, and that was exactly what she had done. However, this one seemed to be sticking around, something that I always hoped that Bella would find. She was whimsical in her thoughts and held strong to the concept of true love. Me? I wasn’t a cynic by any means, but in reality, I had never really been in a serious relationship, and from what I’d seen of my friends’ divorces, true love was looking more like a fairy tale than real life. Still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that the right guy was out there for me. I just needed to find him.

Ryan was damaged. That was no secret, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was the first man that I had ever thought about for this long of a period of time. I knew there was something there I needed to explore, but I was more than a bit nervous. Part of me envied Bella’s fearlessness and free spirit, but I wasn’t the girl that just jumped headfirst whenever something felt good.

“Love is crazy,” Bella said. “I believe you can love a million people in your lifetime, but there will always be that one that stands out in your mind. The one you are supposed to be with. Finding him can be tough at first, but I didn’t give up, and now, here I am, happy as a clam. You should seriously try it: no joke.”

“I’m not sure if your style is mine.” I laughed.

“Alissa, if you want to find that guy, you need to just keep trying until lightning strikes,” she said. “I mean I don’t expect you to go out and get married right away. Although if you did, I wouldn’t judge. But I mean start dating. Don’t tie yourself down. Right now, you have nothing to lose.”

“Except my dignity.” I laughed.

“You are silly,” she said, shaking her head. “You need to embrace your femininity, go out there and remember that you aren’t doing anything wrong. Why can men take their time going from relationship to relationship, slowly deciding on the woman they want to spend their life with, but we can’t? There is no shame in testing the waters until you find the right temperature for you. I did it, and I couldn’t be happier, although I’m pretty sure Mom will be glad not to have to go to another wedding.”

“You eloped last time,” I said.

“Yeah, and that is how I knew he was the one.” She smiled. “It didn’t matter to have a show. I just wanted him, no flowers or crazy party, just him. Our little party of two in the valleys of Vermont’s beautiful mountains was the best wedding out of all three of them.”

“I don’t know.” I chuckled. “I liked that Halloween-themed one. You made an amazing zombie bride.”

“I’m not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or be very offended by that,” Bella said, laughing and kicking me in the thigh. “If I remember correctly, you were a pretty hot dead prom queen.”

“Yeah, that was a fun night.” I smiled. “But in all seriousness, there is something to be said about the traditional way of thinking. Meeting a man, courting, falling in love, becoming best friends, and when neither of us have any reservations, we get married, and hopefully, for life. A mate, a partner to walk through life with. I am not judging you at all, but I don’t think I could take the constant up and downs of searching for that true love over and over again.”

“True, and for some people, that works,” she said. “But with the divorce rate at an astonishing high—”

“No thanks to you.” I smiled.

“I did my part.” She laughed. “But with the divorce rate so high, I feel like people don’t know how to do it the traditional way anymore. On top of that, the traditional way stemmed from the fact that you didn’t have choices. You made one choice, and you stuck with that. Nowadays, we have the freedom to find the best match for us. We have the ability to seek out, not only love, but the best love. The love that fits us perfectly, like we were molded from the same piece of earth. It’s not a usual thing for that to happen with the first man that you meet.”

“I don’t know,” I said, sipping my wine. “I think there are a million people that  could be happy with out there. I think that it takes work to be a partner. I’m not talking about marrying the first man I meet, but I’m talking about taking that connection that I find and nurturing it like our grandparents did, and turning it into something more than beautiful. I think everyone’s definition of perfect is different, and I think that it’s dangerous to always think there may something just a little more fitted to me out there. I feel like you will always be looking and never really see what you have. At least, that’s how I would see myself being.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” Bella smiled. “We definitely look at relationships differently, but in the end, I just want us to be happy.”

“Very true,” I said, raising my glass. “Like Mom and our new stepfather. Mom has been with two men in her life. The first left her like an idiot, and the second, she just fell madly for, so I guess there is something to be said about finding the perfect one for you. I think for some people, it just happens though.”

“Speaking of Mom,” Bella said, grabbing the postcard off the counter. “Have you heard anything more from her?”

“No,” I sighed. “Just the random postcards we’re getting. I know she deserves every second of this trip, but I miss her. She is the third post of our trinity, and it feels weird without her here, talking about all of this, sipping her wine, and laughing loudly.”

“I know,” Bella said. “I love you and everything, but it’s weird without the full circle of divinity going on around here.”

“We are pathetic.” I laughed. “We’re talking about Mom like she died, not like we should be jealous that she is on a whirlwind honeymoon with the love of her life. I’m a bit jealous. I won’t lie.”

“I’m just jealous of all the food they get to eat.” Bella laughed.

When my parents got divorced, I was barely old enough to remember, and through the years, my father had stayed at a distance. His visits were sporadic, rarely planned, and when we were together, it always felt forced. I wasn’t a girl with daddy issues, though, as my mother was the queen of single parenting and was able to turn Bella and me into strong, determined women. Still, with Mom just getting married, and Bella having the time of her life on husband number three, it was starting to get my wheels turning.

I was at that age where people figured I should find a partner and settle down. Now, I wasn’t too much of the girl that gave a damn about societal norms, but I was definitely getting that fire in my belly to start trying to figure out where I wanted to go from there. I had a good business, a strong family, and now, I wanted that romance that I had put on hold for so long. But what was the right path to go? Did Bella really have something there with her “free love, find the ripe apple in the orchard after trying several others” mentality? Was my mother’s traditional, though seldom spoken about, idea of finding that man and building a world around the two of them mentality what was right?

It was all so confusing for me, especially with no real guide through the wars of love. On one side, I saw the beauty in my mother’s new marriage, and on the other side, I saw the trauma and debilitating heartbreak of divorce, like Ryan’s family. Somewhere in the middle of the spectrum was Bella, and although it seemed so nice to always feel secure about love, I wasn’t sure I could just drift through men like that.

“In reality, Alissa, life and love are all about seizing that moment when it strikes,” she said. “Don’t let those amazing moments, the ones that feel like they are from a movie, pass you by. It’s better, in my opinion, to hate the outcome in the end, than to spend your life wondering what if. What if I had just kissed him? What if I had said yes? What if I had just taken the chance? I don’t want questions like that.”

For the first time in our relationship as sisters, Bella had said something I could definitely agree with. I didn’t want to have those questions when I died, those what if’s that people spend their entire lives obsessing over. I wanted to know that I took a chance when it was given, and I did everything I could to make that work. I guessed it was a melding of the two ideas of the women in my immediate family, the forever of working through it, and the whimsy of jumping in headfirst. Thinking about that made Ryan flash through my mind, and I wondered if he was one of those men I would always ask what if about? Ryan could be something completely amazing, but he and I could also be a terrible mistake. That mistake would not just affect me, but the entire family, including that little seven-year-old girl.

I gulped my wine, frustrated with the fact that my brain wouldn’t settle on one idea. My fears and sensibilities ran through me like wildfire, and I was starting to become concerned that I was destined to be a “what if” kind of girl. Do I take the chance on love or pass it by for something more sensible? But what if I was tired of being sensible?