Page 147 of Only After We Met
Subject: Why?
Why do you ask, Ginger? Yeah, I talk to her every week or two. And I’m taking care of myself. Did I look bad the last time I saw you?
Stop worrying about nothing.
From: Ginger Davies
To: Rhys Baker
Subject: RE: Why?
I just asked because sometimes I have the feeling that that’s where the problem comes from. From your parents. It scared me to ask you, because I don’t want to force you to talk about it. And you know how grateful I am that you told me you were adopted, and I’m aware of how hard that was for you. But I think you need to reflect on it. Have you ever done that?
From: Rhys Baker
To: Ginger Davies
Subject: RE: RE: Why?
Are you for real, Ginger? I don’t have problems. I’m not one of those guys that need saving. Maybe I’m not fucking perfect like James, maybe I don’t have my life planned out all the way up to my seventy-third birthday, but I’m fine. I know I have my faults, I accepted that a long time ago, and I realize I can’t meet your expectations or be good enough for you. But that has nothing to do with my parents. And like you said, I don’t enjoy talking about it, so let’s drop it and go on pretending everything’s okay.
86
Ginger
It was a fine night. We went to the movies to see a flick we’d heard about everywhere—the poster was even plastered all over the bus stops. We shared a medium-sized bucket of popcorn, had lots of laughs, held hands during the tense parts. Then we walked, fingers intertwined, through the city, crossing Hyde Park.
“Have I told you how much I like being with you?” he asked, pulling me close.
I smiled. I could smell the fabric softener on his jacket. Summer had arrived, and every branch on the trees around us was bursting with leaves. I stared into the sky as we walked to the park’s exit, and looked at the shimmering moon, which seemed to gaze down at me from above. It’s funny how something so simple, something that’s always there, can remind you so much of another person. For me, the moon would always be Rhys. Waning, full, shielded by clouds, it always remained, fixed in the heights.
“What are you thinking about?” James’s breath tickled my cheeks.
“Nothing. Just how calm the night is.”
I didn’t want to talk about Rhys, the moon, or anything thateven reminded me of him. Not when James had taken it so hard after I told him Rhys wasn’t just some friend, that our relationship was full of forks and dead ends. Rhys was acting weird lately, sometimes calling me drunk in the middle of the night, arguing with me in bitter emails. The bitterness was spreading. As much as we were trying to pretend otherwise, things would never be the same after the summer we’d spent together. Those months had been beautiful, more magical than anything I’d ever lived, but they’d also produced new versions of us that didn’t fit together as well as before.
“You hungry? Should we grab a bite?”
“Sure. I know a pizzeria close to here.”
“Let’s do it.” He smiled.
We sat down and ordered a pizza with salmon and cream cheese to share, plus a couple of appetizers. He grabbed my hand whenever he had the chance. I liked that. His attentiveness. How he couldn’t stop looking at me and didn’t bother to hide it. With James, things were simple: no darkened windows I had to try and peek around, no fears, no risks.
“How long have we been going out, Ginger?”
“Why do you ask?” I laughed, because he seemed so serious all of a sudden, staring at me as if there were no one else there.
“No reason. Just wondering…”
“Come on, spit it out!” I was still smiling.
“It’s just that, since your sister and Kate are serious now, I was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be such a crazy idea if you brought some of your things to my place. After all, you spend almost every weekend there; you’ve already got a drawer in the dresser…”
My heart was beating fast and hard. I bent over the table.
“Are you asking me to move in with you, James?”