Sturgill

Joanna turns away, blushing fiercely. I feel bad about interrupting them, but I was here to see my dad anyway. I always come on the weekends to spend time with him in the morning. He likes to watch the birds on the beach.

I could see them through the giant picture window as I walked up the path, and it filled me with… I don’t even know what. Sunshine? It might be ridiculous, but that is what it felt like.

They made such a nice picture, just sitting here and chatting. I’m happy to see my father talking with my… friend?

Does that word even make sense?

But as soon as I arrived, she went instantly cold. Again, that arctic breeze. I understand that our arrangement was “professional,” but it’s beginning to feel less friendly than that. I wonder if I did something to upset her.

“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” I mutter, meeting my father’s eyes. Some days he is more clear than others, and I wonder what the situation is today.

“Oh, you’re not interrupting!” my father smiles. “I was just congratulating Maude. I guess I should congratulate you too, Chuck!”

Pain lances through me. He doesn’t know me today. At least not right this moment. He thinks I am Chuck, Joanna’s father.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry,” I smile apologetically at Joanna. “He doesn’t always remember…”

“It’s okay!” she chirps, pulling her hand away from my father’s hand.

“It just takes him a moment, sometimes,” I explain in a rush.

I don’t want her to pull away from him, though I understand why she would. It’s painful for me to see him slip away, but it is confusing for strangers too. I understand that. Yet, he seems so pleased right now, I wish she could let him have that for a few more moments, even if he doesn’t remember who she is. After all, he doesn’t remember who I am right now, either.

“You know, I totally get that,” she explains quickly.

She seems to be in a hurry. I’m sure she’s very busy, not just trying to escape from my presence. Defeated, I just take another chair and smile at my dad, ready to move on.

But my dad doesn’t seem to be willing to give up quite as easily. He tugs Joanna harder, directing her back into her seat.

“Dad? I think she needs to get going,” I coach him gently. Sometimes he doesn’t realize what he’s doing. But he narrows his eyes at me sternly, nodding as though he’s preparing a lecture.

“Chuck? I think we need to have a talk.”

I catch Joanna’s eyes and shrug apologetically. It’s best to let him talk these things out, and I hope she’s willing to let him do that.

“Boss?” she squeaks urgently. “I really do need to go, okay? It really was wonderful to see you…”

“Now, I have been around the block,” he announces, using the voice that earned him the name “Boss.” “And I understand how complications can seem overwhelming, especially to a young couple.”

“Just play along?” I stage whisper to her.

“I really have to go!”

But it doesn’t matter. My dad has no intention of letting her hand go.

“So I will just come right out and say it… Chuck, you have to do the right thing!”

I smirk affectionately. “Boss, I think I know exactly what you’re saying.”

“It’s a man’s duty!” he continues, now that he is on a roll. “And maybe sometimes that choice seems difficult… But now that you are in the family way, you know what you have to do.”

My smile turns to concrete. Joanna goes frozen and stops trying to tug her hand away. What seemed like discomfort at my father’s confused state of mine is starting to quickly seem like something else.

“Chuck, you and Maude can make this work,” my dad insists. “A baby is a gift from God!”

Joanna gasps, turning her head away.

He’s not inventing this. This is not a drill. This is happening.

“Great to see you!” she blurts out, finally snatching her hand back and stumbling backward. White as a ghost, she opens her mouth to say something and then clamps it closed, pivoting on her heel and darting through the front door.

“You’re not just going to let her run away?!” my dad blusters.

Slowly I lean forward and pick up her handbag off the chair. I hold it up for him to see and shrug.

“Don’t worry, Boss, she won’t get far,” I reply. “I think I have her car keys. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Great work, son!” he bellows as I rise and leave the reception area.

I find her by her father’s truck, leaning on the driver's-side window on her folded arms. She raises her head as I approach, her cheeks streaked with moisture.

“Were you going to tell me?” I ask in a low voice, aware that my tone is not professionally neutral.

“I thought you were in Costa Rica,” she sniffs pathetically. “Can I have my keys?”

“No, you cannot,” I reply sharply. “And yes, I was in Costa Rica. I’m back.

“I can see that,” she answers.

I want to resist, but I can’t. I look her up and down, trying to see the signs. She’s lovely. She’s lovelier than before. I can’t pick out any one thing that stands out, but yes, there’s something about her.

“Why would you tell my father and not tell me?” I growl.

She blinks several times, gasping. “Tell him?” she repeats incredulously “I didn’t tell him! He doesn’t even know who I am!”

“But that didn’t stop him from knowing you’re…”

She squares off to face me, sticking her chin out defiantly and putting her hands on her hips.

“Are you going to say it?” she challenges me.

I pause, taken aback. Is this a dare?

“Don’t worry,” she continues acidly. “You don’t have to do the right thing. You don’t have to do anything. I didn’t even know you were here. I just came here to see Didi and—”

“You should marry me,” I blurt out.

She rocks forward then sways back, like a piece of coral in the tide.

“That’s insane,” she hisses.

She doesn’t even know. She can’t even see it. She doesn’t know how lovely she is. She certainly doesn’t know how beautiful life can be, how beautiful I can make it for her.

“People do it all the time,” I answer reasonably. “It’s just the circle of life.”

She picks her hands up and then lets them fall and slap against her thighs, creating that sound I first heard on that first day. Now I can only think about getting her into bed, about tasting her new pheromones, about claiming her all over again.

Properly claiming her. Making her mine.

“I didn’t come here to get a marriage proposal,” she says in a rush, shaking her head. “I came here to just live my life, Sturgill.”

“Sometimes that’s just the way things are,” I answer. “Everything happens for a reason.”

She raises her eyebrows. “I thought you were a man of science?”

“Science has its limitations,” I shrug. “Part of being a scientist is acknowledging when you don’t understand something. And I don’t understand how you swept through my life, and somehow found a way back here… Carrying my child…”

She closes her eyes when I say the words, shivering slightly. I move toward her, eager to feel her skin in my palms.

“You should marry me,” I say again softly, pulling her close. “We are supposed to be together.”

“Supposed to be together is just something crazy people say,” she objects weakly, but she isn’t pulling away.

“Crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results,” I counter as my lips brush against her hairline.

I can smell that she is different now. Her body is changing, thriving, going to work to do its essential job. I could no more let her go now than I could amputate my own arm.

“I have things to do,” she whimpers. “I have a life! I don’t know…”

“I know,” I counter as I pull her even closer, feeling how she aligns herself to me. We do fit together so well. There is something between us, something as immutable as gravity. Something I can’t think of a reason to fight against anymore.

“Everybody gets divorced!” she squeaks.

“Not my parents…” I counter. “Not your parents either. It’ll be hard sometimes. It’ll seem impossible sometimes. We will both have to be dedicated to getting it done.”

She chuckles helplessly. “Well… I am pretty good at getting impossible things done.”

“I know you are, Joanna,” I murmur as my mouth finally closes over hers.

She’s sweet and pliant, finally no longer holding back. I feel her give in to me as my arms close around her, as I step across the threshold in my mind and pledge myself to her. Now I understand what doing the right thing really means. It might be old-fashioned, and it might be the hard road, but when something this perfect materializes in your life you have to do everything you can to keep it.

That sounds mystical, I suppose. I guess I am changing too.