“That will be you, someday.”
I mop my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I hope so.”
“I see now why your sister-in-law acted the way she did. I don’t accept it, but I understand. Grief is … inconcealable.”
And then he pulls me close, and it’s exactly what I want. Exactly what I need.
*
Later, he whispers, “I know what your shooting star wish was.”
I look up to find his eyes luminescent, his cheeks darkened by prickly stubble. “You do not.”
“I do. You wished to stay in this turret with me forever.”
His smile says he’s joking, but holy shit … “How did you—?”
“Maybe my wish was the same.”
I snort. “You wished for cookies.”
“Infinite cookies, Elise. With you.”
MATI
In a citadel’s tallest turret, we exist like royalty.
It is a whimsical place, perfect for exploring.
Perfect for learning her touch, and how she likes to be touched.
She makes little sounds— sighs, murmurs, mewls,
kittenlike and sweet.
They unleash something in me, and cement what I have suspected since we met …
She is right.
We are right.
In our private turret, she is never still.
Her hands roam …
caress …
excite …
until I am the one who can’t stay quiet.
My sounds are deep and gruff.
They are words like “yes,” and “please,” and “more.”
They are a language she understands.
She listens. She is attentive.
She lets me return the favor.
I would stay
forever in this turret
with her
if I could.
But where she sees white, I see black.
In the vastness between us, there are infinite variants of gray.
I cannot stay in America, cannot stay with her, because somewhere,
between slate and silver and charcoal, lies the destiny I was born to live.
After the moon has journeyed beyond the window,
I ask her if we should go.
She whispers in my ear: “Let’s stay a little longer.”
I keep expecting to feel regret, a flood of guilt
regarding the choices I have made, and the things I have done.
It will come—I am certain, but for now, I only feel content.
I whisper back to her: “I am yours for the night.”
elise
We stay at the park until the sky starts its gradual lightening and the day’s first birds begin their song.
Mati walks me almost all the way home and offers to go the distance, but I stop him when we’re a block out. My mom will be seeing red by the time I walk through the gate; there’s no need to make things worse by letting her lay eyes on the perceived villain.
“I hope she isn’t too angry,” Mati says, sweeping my hair over my shoulder.
“Yeah. I think she’ll be pretty pissed. Whatever Audrey told her would’ve been enough, but now that I’ve stayed out all night…” I grimace.
“Will you be punished?”
“What—like grounded? I don’t know. My mom’s style of consequence is usually more the guilt-trip variety. She’ll probably go on about how I’ve disappointed her, and how she worried, and how if I could just be more thoughtful.” I say all this glibly, like I’m unaffected, like the thought of walking into the cottage doesn’t scare me through, but I am and it does. Of course I long for my mom’s approval. Of course I want her to be proud of my choices. Of course her scathing looks and disgruntled sighs will get to me.
But not enough to keep me from Mati.
A squirrel scampers across the sidewalk and up a tree. The sky is more light than dark now, a smattering of stars rendered nearly invisible. Soon, the sun will have officially risen.
“I probably won’t go to the beach this morning. I have a feeling my mom’s going to want to have a conversation.” By conversation, I mean fight, but I don’t want Mati to worry.
Still, he frowns. “Elise, if you don’t want—”
I grab his hand, quieting him. “Don’t, okay? I want.”
He weaves his fingers through mine and stoops to meet me. Our goodbye reaffirms the conviction I found last night, and I’m smiling when he draws back. He is a masterful kisser.
“Call me later?”
I nod, leaning in for one more.
*
My mom is in a rage.
She’s disheveled and unshowered. I’m not sure she’s eaten since I left to babysit Janie last night. Fox News blares in the next room, and I suspect she’s been up all night, glued to the TV, cataloging Islamophobic sound bites.
“How could you do this?!” she cries, smacking the kitchen table with a rumpled dish towel. Bambi’s cowering beneath, her brown eyes anxious and confused. She’s not used to tension between Mom and me—we never used to argue. She lets out a low whine.
“I’m sorry,” I tell my mom. I am sorry—for ignoring her calls and for making her worry. But I’m not sorry about Mati.
“You’re sorry? Unacceptable. I’ve been up all night, waiting and worrying. Have you heard about what happened in Oakland?”
I’ve been cocooned in a world of bliss since I stepped onto that drawbridge. An asteroid could’ve struck the planet and I’d be none the wiser. Of course, my mom’s so melodramatic, she might be freaking out about a fender bender. “No. What?”
“A letter arrived at the VA Office. A threat against veterans, current service members, and their families. Terrorists. Imagine how I felt, knowing you were out with that boy, one of them.”
I fall into a chair. “God, Mom. Mati is not one of them.”
She waves her hand, a throwaway gesture, like, I’ve heard it all before. “I’ve lost a child, Elise. My firstborn. I know you can’t comprehend how that feels, but I thought you knew enough to be considerate—to avoid putting me through that sort of anguish a second time.”
“Are you hearing yourself? I lost Nicky, too. I’m sorry I made you worry, but Mati and his family aren’t dangerous. How many times do I have to tell you?”
She makes an exasperated sound and blows right past my point. “You can’t stay out all night, not with that boy—not with anybody!”
“Fine. I get it. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t. When I said I didn’t want you to see him, I meant it. Look at the trouble he’s caused. When Audrey told me what she walked in on last night, I just—I couldn’t believe my ears.” She drags a hand over her face, creased with lines of aggravation. “It would’ve been inappropriate no matter who the boy was, but that boy … It’s as if you’re bound and determined to send me to an early grave.”
I roll my eyes—a splash of gasoline on her already blazing fire. “We were kissing, Mom. Don’t be ridiculous.”
She drops her chin to her chest; I think she’s praying for serenity, or the strength to keep from whacking me with that towel that suddenly looks more like a weapon than a rectangle of linen. “Audrey suggested it was more than a kiss, and while Janie was asleep down the hall. You took advantage of her trust, and then you snuck off to stay the night with him.”
“Are you kidding? This, from the woman who used to let her teenage son and his girlfriend spend time behind a locked door?” I push my hands through my snarled hair, frustration cranking my heart rate higher and higher. “God, Mom! I know you’re stressed and I know you’re angry, but set all that aside. How is Mati and me hanging out at the park any more scandalous than Audrey and Nick having sleepovers in your house?”
She practically growls. “Audrey and Nick were in love.”
I blink, stunned by her nerve. What I feel for Mati is no less powerful than what Nick felt for Audrey during their early days. All that’s different in my case is Mati’s background, which is completely inconsequential.
I raise a challenging eyebrow. “I’ll ask again: How is my situation with Mati different?”