Page 57 of Only After We Met
“Did you tell your whole family about me?”
“Eh. Yeah. It just came up. What’s wrong, Rhys?” I laughed. “It’s not like it’s some secret that can never be confessed. Come on, it’s my birthday, stop dawdling.”
I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him until he started walking again. We passed through St. James’s Park. Rhys was quiet but attentive as we crossed streets and I shared stories with him about my life and my childhood.I fell down on that corner. I used to meet up with my old friends at that café, people I don’t really see anymore. That’s Donna’s favorite restaurant, but really it’s nothing special.
I saw him take a deep breath when we stopped in front of a two-story building that looked almost identical to its neighbors. I rang the doorbell.
“Ginger!” My mother was wiping her hands on her apron as she looked over at Rhys. He seemed nervous. But at the same time, curious. “Oh, hello.”
“Can we do the introductions inside?” I asked, pointing to my heavy suitcase. My mother stepped aside and let us through. The central heating surrounded us, and I took off my gloves and scarfas I explained who Rhys was in fits and starts and he greeted her timidly. “He’s going to stay for lunch. Then I’m going to show him around town.”
“Around town? How many days are you staying, Rhys?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he replied.
“Oh, London is a place you can spend a lifetime exploring; a few days just doesn’t work. Do you like shepherd’s pie? I hope so. Ginger didn’t tell me you were coming, but I’m sure I can whip something up with what I have in the fridge if you prefer something else. Are you more of a meat or fish person?”
“I’m fine with what you’re serving.” He smiled, a little tense.
“Great. Go relax in the dining room. Your father will be right back. Donna’s coming late. By the way, Ginger, I invited the Wilsons; I hope that’s not a problem. I can tell them something came up and have them over for tea tomorrow…”
“No, Mom, it’s fine. We’re going to put up our things.”
We climbed the carpeted stairs to my room. Rhys left his backpack at the foot of the bed and took a look around. It was the second time in just a few hours that I felt as if he were rooting around inside me, looking forsomething, for details…
“Who are the Wilsons?” he asked.
“Dean’s parents. This is him.”
I pointed to the photo I’d pinned to the corkboard the summer before, when I hadn’t yet moved back to the dorm, which showed us together on graduation day. Rhys stared at it a moment, and I wondered what he was thinking.
“Why are you so nervous?” I asked.
“Me?” He looked at me, amused. “I’m not.”
“You look like a lion about to pounce. Tense. Away from your natural habitat. Dropped in the middle of some hostile territory you don’t recognize.”
“I guess it’s been a long time since I was in a real home.”
I was surprised he was so sincere, that he’d spoken so viscerally like that, when normally he always avoided hard questions or turned the conversation elsewhere. We looked at each other in silence; then he turned back to the photos. I held my breath as I watched him. It was still hard to believe he was here, just a few inches away. I could smell him. All I had to do to touch him was reach out my hand…
We heard my father’s voice downstairs. He had arrived with the Wilsons, and it wasn’t hard to see how uncomfortable Rhys was, even if he was making an effort. I tried to get him to feel as comfortable as possible, introducing him quickly and walking him to the table, giving him the chair beside me, ignoring Dean’s curious look as he settled down across from us.
Fortunately, the conversation revolved around the new cabinets coming out next season. My father said they were going to set the market on fire. He’d signed an agreement with several department stores to carry them.
My sister showed up just before dessert and greeted Rhys familiarly, as if they’d already met. She sighed loudly as she flopped into her chair, and smiled when Mom walked through the doorway holding a cheesecake with a few lit candles.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”
I felt weird. I was twenty-two years old, and I felt like a one-year-old child. As the voices around me enveloped me, my mother set the cake in the middle of the table. I turned to Rhys for a second. Justone. His eyes met mine, and he smiled.
Then I made a wish.
And blew out the candles.
“Ginger told us you travel a lot,” my father said as he served himself the biggest piece of cheesecake and got ready to attack it with his fork.
“Yeah, I’m headed to Australia for a while.”