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“E, Ilovehim! What am I going to do?”
“Oh, Luce,” she soothed, “come here.”
Scooting on my knees, I fell into her embrace and for the first time in a long while, I knew she wasn’t there to mother me. She was simply there to listen and to console.
“I love him, E,” I repeated.
“I know you do, I know…” She smoothed my messy hair like she did every time I’d break down after our parents left us.
I cried and cried into her shoulder, eventually sagging down until my head rested on the pillow in her lap.
“It hurts too much,” I blubbered. “Love always ends up hurting…it fuckingsucks.”
E continued to stroke my hair, using her calming voice. “Do you remember the time that Mom and Dad took us to the fair and we ended up getting sick after one of the rides?” It was a random memory but I remembered it well.
I sniffled. “Yeah, and we swore we’d never eat that much cotton candy again. The look on your face as the ride started was fucking priceless.” I laughed at the thought of E’s eyes growing wide, knowing that the second it started, she was going to lose her lunch. It was hilarious. Until I felt it as well.
“The look on your face was even better,” she goaded, nudging my arm. “And then Mom and Dad felt so bad that they bought us those—”
“—Giant stuffed bears we could never seem to win!” I finished.
The air between us settled as we were both lost in our recollections of that day. “There were good times with them, you know.” Her voice was barely a whisper as I sucked in a breath, letting her words register. “Even if you get hurt from love Luce, surely the good memories make it worth it? That’s how I dealt after they left. And even now, as easy as it would be to be angry at them, all the love that we shared is what I choose to focus on. And Luce, I think that’s something you should consider…with Jake.”
I let her words sink in before I replied. I wanted to punch her in the ovaries because she hit the nail on the damn head. “Dammit,” I muttered. “You’re right. God, I hate saying that!” I snort laughed and E joined me in a fit of giggles.
“But how can I love him after only six weeks?” It was a question I’d been burying for the last five days, unable to come up with a sufficient answer. Or maybe it was denial.
“People fall in love quickly all the time,” E commented. “Sometimes it’s immediate, sometimes it takes months.”
I grew silent, recalling my first encounter with Jake back in San Diego. My attraction to him was immediate, but by the time we had returned to Hall H, I was full blown smitten with him.
I had zero clue as to who he was, and knowing now, it wouldn’t have swayed me in my decision. My heart wanted him. It was as simple as that.
My voice grew quiet and reserved, something you’d use in a church. “I think it was love at first sight for me, E.”
“You’re just now coming to that realization?” she teased. Sighing, she remarked, “Oh, Luce, I could see it on your face backstage that day. You were gone for him.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I questioned.
“Ha! There was no way you’d believe me, and you apparently like living in denial…”
Why did she have to be correct in her statements? She was right, I never would have listened to her. I would’ve done what was natural to me: deny, deflect and disallow any of it to be voiced.
I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I guess I can’t protect myself from pain,” I began, “but what I can do, is focus on the good stuff.” The words came out as a mantra, an epiphany and a promise.
E began twirling a strand of my hair as she spoke. “Pain is inevitable, but why not spend ninety-five percent of your time enjoying life and the person you love? Deal with the pain if and when it comes. If you chose to focus on such a narrow part ofwhat could be, that’s a pretty sad way to live.”
“So do you moonlight as a shrink?” I joked.
“No, but I’m done being your babysitter!” E snatched another throw pillow and hit me over the head with it playfully.
“Rude!” I yelled, but grabbed my own and we commenced in the rowdiest pillow fight we’d had since we were kids.
It felt good. If felt nice to laugh and it felt cathartic to give a voice to my admissions.
I felt like I might be able to finally get a handle on my life. I was on my way to becoming a top-sheeter.
Sort of.
