Alex
October 19, 2017
The sun is just beginning its ascent as we pull into the Amtrak Downeaster Train Station. I still can’t get used to the sun rising over the Atlantic.
Give it time, are the words that come to my mind. Give it time, and the rest will follow.
Because the truth of the matter is, I love it here. I love the small-town feel. I love the beautiful colors that Maine provides in the fall.
Once, I said this to Clay, and he said, “Wait until winter.”
I’m unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. But I love the maples that line Main Street in Granite Harbor. I love all of it. But, mostly, I love how my heart feels when I’m with Eli.
You’re leaving eventually, I tell myself. You have a book to finish writing. You’ll go back to California, I say to my lovesick heart as Eli puts our backpacks in the overhead compartment and crashes down next to me, sliding his hand to my leg.
He, too, glances out the window, his head next to mine. “Beautiful train station, huh?” A cheesy grin is on his face.
“Smart-ass,” I say, still staring out the window as the passengers load the train.
Because what I’m looking at right now isn’t outside. What I’m looking at is a lifetime full of Eli. I want his future. I’ll take his past, no matter what’s in it. I hope he’d take mine.
He wears the uniform, my head says.
There’s risk. I think, with any job, there’s risk. When you pack a gun, I know there’s more risk. When you deal with people breaking the law, situations become dangerous. But, if I walked away from this out of fear or loss, then what?
The sarcastic side of me chimes in, I’m glad you narrowly escaped a lifetime of true love for potential heartbreak.
“What are you thinking about?” He leans into me.
“Fear.” Because that’s what all of this comes down to, right?
Eli moves back, so he can get a look into my eyes. “Fear? Why? What are you scared of?” He toys with my hand. “Don’t worry; there are no snakes on this train.”
I laugh.
He whispers into my ear, “I love to watch you laugh.” He kisses my forehead. “What’s with the fear, Cali?”
“Maine Man.”
Now, he laughs, pulling me into his arms. “Tell me about your fear.”
The train quietly takes to the tracks with ease, gaining speed.
I take a deep breath. “Let’s say there’s a bunny.”
“Rabbit.”
I look at him.
“It’s technically called a rabbit. I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
“Let say there’s a rabbit. It’s just before winter, and she’s stocking up on food, quietly moving in and around her hole. But she knows, on the other side of the fence, she’ll find carrots and lettuce, peonies, tomatoes—do rabbits like tomatoes?” I ask Eli.
He smiles. “I’ve never asked.” I feel his lips on the side of my head. “Wait. Why peonies?”
I shrug. “They’re my favorite flower.”
“Noted.”
“Anyway, the last time the rabbit was over the fence, collecting items for winter, she narrowly escaped being eaten by the farmer’s dog. She knows that could happen again. She knows, by taking one step over that fence, it could be all over. But, if she stays safe on her side of the fence, eating the not-so-decadent and delicious whatever-rabbits-eat-that-aren’t-vegetables-and-tastes-rather-twiggy, she’ll be safe. It might not be what she wants, but it’s safe. She can’t take a chance on losing her life, right?”
Eli puts his face to my hair and takes a deep breath. “It depends on how good the lettuce is.” He’s silent for a moment. “Will the risk be worth it?”
“Yes.”
“Then, I’d say she needs to do it. Just fall.”
By this last statement, I know he knows what I mean. Just fall in love. Take the chance. Eat the lettuce.
“But—” I try.
“Shh. No.” He gently touches my throat and kisses my lips, slowly, patiently, as if nobody is watching. His tongue explores my mouth, but the need grows, the hunger grows, and he quickly pulls away. “Yeah, that’s not going to work on this train.” He removes his arm from behind me but not his hand from my leg. “I can’t kiss you like that right here.” He kisses my mouth once more. He sighs. “I think I’ve already eaten the lettuce, Alex, and I don’t think I can turn back.” His eyes are hooded. His stare is hard. “I can’t help it.”
My faces turns to heat.
“You’re blushing. And your face is as red as a beet!” He laughs
“Whatever.” I nudge him.
“Oh, Peony Red, what am I going to do with you?”
My heart explodes. I love his nickname for me. “Way better than Cali, Maine Man.”
We arrive at South Station in Boston, and it’s quite overwhelming. People are moving about with luggage, backpacks, staring at the electronic reader board above the big sliding glass doors whooshing every five seconds to accommodate the thousands of people who use South Station every day. People are eating at one of the many places to eat. Talking. Texting. People are everywhere. It’s loud and cold, and it echoes. The ground is cement. It’s like you’re outside, but you’re inside.
Pigeons walk about, unafraid of people, asking in their best bird voices, Care to spare a piece of bread? Popcorn?
Eli’s phone rings, and he holds a finger up to me. Hang on, I’m going to take this, he mimes the words.
I nod and stare at the circus before us.
There’s a breeze through the station, and it’s enough to say, Glad you’re here, but please keep moving.
My phone chimes, and it’s a text from Bryce, which reminds me that I need to call my mom tonight and check in. A nervous feeling grows in my stomach as my mind wanders to my dad. How many times has he assembled the entertainment system? Who’s cutting his hair?
I read Bryce’s text.
Bryce: How’s it going with Warden McHot?
Bryce has a way with words that makes me laugh out loud.
I text back.
Me: We’re in Boston. Here for the Warriors game.
Bryce: You lucky dog! Will you be bringing home the warden when you go to Belle’s?
All the air that I breathe in the train station leaves me. Home is the only word I hear.
All good things come to an end, Alex; you know this. All good things don’t last. They come for a bit, stay awhile but just long enough for you to get comfortable, and then they leave, leaving your sadness in its wake.
Me: No.
Bryce: Why not?
Me: Because not all good things can last.
I feel the uncertainty, the heat of sadness, wash over my skin. I feel the defensiveness of the situation fill my insides with sand. Heavy sand. I could eat the lettuce. I could stay longer in Granite Harbor. Eventually, we’ll need to return to our lives and stop playing house.
Right?
I feel Eli’s hand slide across my shoulder.
“Hey.” He leans down and kisses the space between my collarbone and my ear. “You okay?” He looks down at my phone’s screen and sees my text back to Bryce.
I’m not sure if he reads what I wrote or understands the context in which I said it, but I know he understands not all good things last. I take in his scent, as the steady breeze is a constant through the station.
Time and three thousand miles, I tell myself. That will heal my heart when I leave.
He pulls my hand into his, and I fall in line next to him, my shoulder right behind his, my body protected by his.
“Who was that on the phone?” I ask.
“Merit. I told her to call me when Pop woke up. Just had her check in.”
“How’s he feeling?”
“Good. Stronger. Mer said he tried to cut firewood yesterday. She told him that I’d do it this weekend.”
Boston is beautiful. I buy a few postcards on the Freedom Trail, which traces through the city and is about three miles long. It’s loaded with history, and I get more than I bargain for. From the site of the Boston Tea Party to Mamma Maria’s restaurant, its rich history attracts me. I’ve been standing in spots that have defined our history.
We take a selfie in front of Cheers, which, much to my surprise, doesn’t look the same as it did in the show. We walk through Boston Common, a beautiful park in downtown where street musicians play and fat squirrels beg for food.
We’re at lunch at Mamma Maria.
“You’ve been quiet,” I say, taking the last bite of my salad.
The waiter sets the bill down, and Eli grabs it before I can.
“Please let me pay this time.” I give him the puppy-dog look, bottom lip out. Sullen eyes.
“Your beauty will not work on me, Alex.” He smiles.
“That’s not what you said last night.” My leg rubs against his under our table.
“This is my treat. I wanted to bring you here and stuff you with good food and great entertainment. You aren’t paying a dime.”
I stop before I put my wallet back in my backpack. “Hey.” I reach across the table and find his hand.
Eli looks at me, his eyes hidden behind hurt. I see it. Though he never lets on to that. “What?”
I see him contemplate, his wheels turning. His clean-shaven, long jaw grinding.
“You’re grinding your jaw, Eli.”
There’s a short silence.
“Let’s make the best of today. Let’s pretend like we have the rest of our lives to sort out our tomorrows. Time doesn’t exist, and we have these moments only to take as our gifts into the future.”
He saw the texts. He knows what they mean.
What I want to say is, I’ve eaten the lettuce, Eli. I want to tell you I want to take it back, so it will make things easier for you to forget me when I’m gone.
But I can’t say it, and what comes out is, “I love you.”
Eli coughs and then stands. He grabs me by the hand, his grip hard, and leads me outside to the cool sunshine Boston has to offer in October. He rushes me to an alleyway made of brick and sets my back against it, both soft and hard at the same time.
With one hand against the wall and one against my neck, he leans down and crashes into my mouth. His tongue is magic, at first moving slowly and savory. Then, his hand idly moves to my collarbone, and I feel the weight of his body, the world, against me, against us. He pulls away without opening his eyes but comes back for more. His lips tenderly linger on mine, and then he comes at me full force again, knowing we’re in public, knowing he can’t do what we both want to do. He pulls away.
I grab both sides of his neck and pull him down to my mouth, and I take control this time, allowing my tongue to push the limits. I don’t kiss him softly. I kiss him deeply, biting his bottom lip as I pull away and come back for one last kiss.
He groans deep inside his throat, and I know that’s the sign we need to stop, or we’re going to get in trouble.
Eli takes a deep breath and takes both of my hands in his. “I want this, us, to stay, to last forever, Alex. I’m not sure how to show you.”
“That was definitely a great start.”
I look up at Eli. His lips are still swollen from our session on the side of Mamma Maria.
“I’m in love with you, Alex. I want to eat the lettuce. I want to find the carrots and eat those, too. I want to take the whole fucking farm with us if that means you’ll give us a chance. Hell, we’ll plant a peony farm, Red.”
Every bone in my body screams, Yes. It’s my heart that reserves the No Vacancy sign.
What if something happens to Eli? What if he dies, too? What if he contracts an incurable, deadly disease? What if he’s killed on the job?
“Look, I see your eyes right now. Your lip bite that you do. Talk to me.”
I lick my lips, biding my time, trying to figure out how to tell him I’m terrified. “I’m scared.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Scared of being in love or … what?”
I sigh, looking down at our hands that seem to fit imperfectly perfect together. “I’m terrified I’ll lose you.” There, I said it.
He closes his eyes, his jaw tightens, and he nods. He pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. I take a deep breath and breathe in his cologne, his pheromones, him. Eli Young. I take it all in. Beautiful city. Granite Harbor. Rookie. The uniform.
I feel his cheek drop to my head, and a single tear falls from my eye.
“You can’t control time and death and when people leave this earth. You just can’t, Red.” He pauses. “Promise me, no matter what, that you won’t live your life scared to love because of something that might or might not happen. We can’t control fate, Alex.”
I breathe in.
I breathe out.
In.
Out.
I’ll go back to California, make Eli become a memory, give us time and three thousand miles, protect what’s left of my heart. I’ll have one-night stands to make up for his loss that will inevitably be my demise because I walked away from the truth. I walked away from love. And then I’ll come back to Granite Harbor in five years and look up Warden Young. He’ll be married with two-point-five kids, and Rookie will have a friend, a Labrador, named Gerti that the kids named. His wife will be hot. His kids will be adorable, and he’ll have this great life. And I’ll be stuck with man number eight, who has a penchant for phone sex and an ungodly lisp. But my heart won’t be vulnerable again. It won’t hurt like it does with Eli. Although leaving Eli will put his heart, my heart, through awfulness, at least we will have time to heal and be glad we didn’t fall deeper. How much love can you fall into in a short time?
The Resist Eli Young Campaign is losing momentum very quickly.
What if it was fate that brought us together? Who travels three thousand miles across the United States, from one ocean to another, to arrive in another small town, only because she received two postcards from who the hell knows?
What if fate can be good?
What if fate said that I was supposed to learn to love with Kyle? That maybe it was his journey, the world’s plan for him to do what he loved and died while doing it.
God didn’t talk to me about heartbreak. He didn’t tell me what it would feel like.
We’re all made differently. Some have a need to help others. Some have a need to protect. Some have a need to lead. Some have a need to be creative.
Would Eli walk into a burning house to save a child? Absolutely. I most certainly would question my choice of love if he didn’t.
What if Kyle went into that burning house, so I didn’t need to? Children have always been my weakness. Wanting to help. Wanting to save. Protect.
Give fate a chance, the words come into my head.
I look up at the man who wants to love me for the rest of our lives.
Eli looks down at me and kisses me on the forehead. “We will make a Celtics fan out of you yet, Peony Red.”
“Not a chance, Maine Man. Not a chance.” I stop and pull him down to me. I take his face in my hands. “I’ll give fate a chance.”