Find Wonder in All Things

chapter 27

When James slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to her with a big smile.

Laurel raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

“This is a lot different than the first time we went somewhere together.”

“It’s a nicer set of wheels; that’s for sure.” She ran her hand over the leather seats of the BMW.

James turned the key and the engine roared to life. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of liked the old pickup truck you used to drive. I could slide over and sit right next to you. This one has a gear shift in the way.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that truck is long gone now.”

“Oh?”

“Now I’ve got” — she paused dramatically — “a ’91 Jeep.”

He smirked.

“I can see you’re impressed.”

A heavy silence settled over them, an almost unbearable emotional tension. James turned on the radio and fiddled with the tuner but found only static as he went up and down the dial.

“How soon they forget. You won’t get any reception here, not until we get a little higher up the hill,” she reminded him.

“I can’t believe it’s almost the 21st century, and there’s still no radio here.” He stopped at the sound of an electric guitar zooming through the speakers. Then, he recognized the song, a suggestive number about love in the afternoon. Awkwardness settled over the car. James realized he was humming and groaned inwardly. He stared straight ahead, knowing that turning off the stupid song would just draw more attention to the lyrics. He hoped she didn’t think he only wanted to get into her pants. Well, to be honest, he did want that eventually, but it could wait if waiting meant they would be headed down the right path together at long last.

Laurel tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle. He turned to look at her and saw she was grinning at his obvious discomfort. Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the dashboard lights. He waggled his eyebrows at her in invitation, and she started singing along with the radio. He joined her at the chorus, laughing, and he almost missed the turn off to the cabin. They were both singing at the top of their lungs by the time they reached her place. She zoomed her hand up into the air with the final chord.

As they got out, James leaned on the car’s roof, gazing at Laurel with a stupid grin on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m just marveling at my good fortune. I can’t stop looking at you.”

She looked down, embarrassed, but then she took a deep breath and resolutely raised her head to face this man, the only man she would ever love. “I don’t understand . . . ”

“Don’t understand what, darling?”

“How this all could have happened so fast.”

“Fast? Laurel, we could have been together for years by now.”

“That’s not what I mean. I feel like I know you, but I don’t know you. Eight years is a long time. So many things have happened to you and for you — life changing events.” She slowed her pace. “Things I’ll never understand or be a part of.”

He started to pull her along by the hand, but then he turned back, coming to meet her and taking her other hand. “And you haven’t changed at all?”

“I haven’t — not down deep.”

He looked at her thoughtfully for a second. “No, I don’t believe you have. You are who you are: constant, steady, unwavering . . . ”

“Boring,” she finished.

He shook his head. “Deep, unending. The inner part of you simply exists, Laurel. You don’t realize how unusual that is. Throughout any storm in life, you are . . . you. Do you know how precious I find that quality in you?”

She raised her eyebrows, questioning, not understanding. “I’m not fishing for compliments here; I’m honestly confused.”

He smiled at her. “No, you would never fish for compliments. You don’t need them. “

“I do like them though.”

His soft laugh echoed in the night air. “And you deserve them. No, what I mean is nothing in your life can tear down that inner self — not your father’s weaknesses, not the lack of material comforts, not the trials of prematurely taking care of your family, not your mother’s troubles, not my leaving.”

“You make me sound cold and unfeeling.”

“There was a time when I thought you were, but . . . ” He leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Mmm, not cold at all. Sweet and warm.” He sighed. “I never told you why I came back here last summer.”

“To see Stuart. Susan and Gary met Stuart and Virginia, and they told you, and you called Stuart and they invited you for a visit . . . ”

“Maybe that was my reason on the surface, but mostly, I came back to see you.” He backed up against the hood of the car, keeping hold of her hands.

“You know, I’d never told anyone the whole story about how we broke up, not even Susan, although she knew we dated that summer. But last New Year’s, I told Eric. I’d tried to forget you, but it was pointless. You’re unforgettable.

“Eric’s a true friend, one of the few I’ve ever had, and he isn’t just smart, he’s wise too. I’m very fortunate to know him. He was watching me — he and Millie — and they knew I wasn’t happy down deep as you would say. Don’t get weirded out or anything, but after our conversation at New Year’s, he looked you up — found out you were still free and where you were — and he told me. Said I needed to either face you or let you go.”

“And that’s when you decided to come back?”

“No.” His lips twisted in the lopsided smile she loved. “I blew him off.”

“Oh.”

“A couple of weeks after New Year’s, we found out Fiona had cancer. That took over all our lives for a while. It all happened so fast, and by the end of April, Fiona was gone. It was my first encounter with the death of someone my age. Talk about a life-altering experience — not only to accept that young people can die but to watch what happens to everyone around them when it occurs.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat.

“Oh, James.”

Laurel’s eyes welled up, and a tear rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. “How could I ever have thought you were cold, my only love?” he whispered. “There’s so much compassion in you.

“So there we were,” he went on, “dazed and muddling through, and it’s the end of May. I get this call from Susan, and she tells me about looking for a house here, about seeing Stuart and Virginia, and I get this . . . longing in my gut to come back to a place where I was untainted by the harsh realities of life — and death. To see my friend who was so much a part of my growing up. To see my parents for the first time in a long time. To see the only girl I’d ever said ‘I love you’ to.

“The first couple of times I saw you were a shock. Like you said, my life had changed, and I thought for sure you had changed too.”

“But I was the same old me?”

“Yes and no. You were still you, but . . . you were . . . more somehow. Stronger, sweeter, more beautiful. A full-grown Mountain Laurel.”

“When we were young and in love” — he grinned wider and pulled her into his arms to give her a squeeze — “I just lived in the moment. God, it was a wonderful time, wasn’t it?”

She smiled and nodded.

“But when I came back, I took some time and watched you, to see what you were really about so I could finally let you go and move on with my life. But you baffled me at every turn. I thought you would be angry with me, but instead, you were kind. I thought, maybe even hoped, I would find you bitter and alone, but I saw how everyone loves you and that other men wanted you.” He scowled. “Like Cooper Edwards.”

She started to reply, but he cut her off. “We’ll come back to him later.”

“I thought your family would have manipulated you into being at their beck and call, but although you still helped them out, you lived your own life too. I thought you were unfeeling, but then I saw how compassionate you were with John. And you were so tolerant of Heather and Carrie’s silliness, even though I tried to irritate you by flirting with them.”

“We’ll come back to them later,” she returned.

He looked away in embarrassment, but then he faced her once more. “The more I watched, the more you fascinated me, and then I kissed you that night. I was so scared, realizing how much I still wanted you and thinking there was no way you could still want me. So I ran. But that kiss sealed my fate. A couple weeks ago, I phoned John and we were talking about things, discussing our plans. When I hung up, I thought, ‘What the hell am I doing?’ Hadn’t I just spent the last six months telling myself that life was too short to live with regrets? I had to know if I still had a chance, so I came to your art show to see you . . . and there was Edwards always at your side, whispering in your ear, touching you like he had the right. God, I wanted to punch him.”

“Thank you for not doing that. I don’t know what I’d have done if you and Cooper started brawling at the biggest event of my career.”

“You’re welcome. I showed admirable restraint, I thought.” He stroked her hair. “But now, perhaps our timing is finally right. It’s a miracle that I found you again and at a time when you were free.”

She laughed, a wry little chuckle, and shook her head. “No worries there. I’ve been available since you left.”

He stared at her as if she were an alien. “Laurel?”

For the first time, she felt embarrassed in front of him and drew her arms up to hug herself. “You must think I’m so provincial — never to have seriously dated anyone after all this time.”

“Are you telling me there’s been no one else but me? In eight years?”

She shrugged. “Who am I going to meet here at Uppercross Hollow?”

“But you went to college . . . You travel places sometimes . . . You must have . . . with someone.”

Her eyes sought his and held them; a steady blue flame lit her from within. “You don’t understand. Maybe I thought about it every once in a while — God knows I was lonely — but I never could make myself act on it even if the opportunity arose. You see, I’ve never loved anyone else either.”

“I don’t believe this.”

She stepped back, shock and pain spreading across her face.

He shook his head suddenly, realizing how that sounded. “No, no . . . I believe you. I just don’t believe . . . How is it possible for me to feel so ecstatic about this and so much like a heel at the same time? I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You loved me.”

“Past, present and future,” he whispered as he held out his arms and drew her close. “I will always love you, Laurel Elliot. Always.”

There was a long pause while she struggled to keep her composure. She looked away, took a deep breath of the cold night air, tried to control the emotions building up inside her, and then she gave up and burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I hurt you all those years ago.”

“No, darling — I’m the one who’s sorry. Ssh . . . don’t cry. It’s okay.” He tried to keep her close, but she resisted, pushing against his chest with her forearms, shaking her head violently.

“And I’m sorry I hurt me when I let you go. I didn’t want to, but everything was happening so fast, and I didn’t know what to do. After you left, I mourned for you, but I thought you wouldn’t want me after I sent you away, and then later, Stuart told me you moved to California. I thought you were gone forever.”

He managed to keep her in his arms, petting, comforting — unsure what to do with tears from this woman he loved so much but had never seen cry.

“I needed to take a leap of faith to go with you or ask you to wait, and I just . . . I couldn’t do it, James, and I’m sorry.”

He drew her head to his shoulder and murmured to her. “You did the best you knew how at the time. And who knows? Maybe you were right. I thought I knew everything back then, so I pushed too hard. Maybe you were too much woman for the man I was.”

A soft laugh escaped through her tears, but then she grew serious. “I don’t know what would have happened if we had made different choices, but I know the pain and emptiness of living without you. I know that I still love you. And without a second thought or knowing what comes next, I know I can take that leap now — without even looking first — if it means I’ll be with you.”

There was a long pause. “Laurel, would you have come with me to California if I’d asked?”

She met his gaze straight on, her heart in her eyes, and nodded.

“Good God, you would have. I can’t believe I was so stupid.” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s been one ill-timed event after another for us, hasn’t it? But no more. If anything good came out of being away from you all these years, it’s that I’m dead sure about this. You are what I love — you are what I want. Everything else is secondary to that truth.”

He kissed her then like he was trying to make up for all the time they lost, and when he finally released her, Laurel lifted her face to the sky. “What a beautiful night.”

“We first made love under the stars. Do you remember?”

“I could never forget it, but that was a warm, summer’s night. It’s chilly out here in October. Let’s go in, okay?”

He nodded, and they continued hand in hand up the steps and across the porch. She took her key out of the flowerpot beside the door. “You’ll have to take me down to Stuart and Ginny’s tomorrow morning to get my car.”

He stepped in behind her and whispered seductively against her ear. “So I can stay the night?”

She turned and looked him straight in the eye. “You can stay forever.” Pulling him by the hand, she backed into the house. “Please . . . stay.” She flipped a switch by the door, and a lamp cast a soft, warm glow over the room. He nodded, and without a word, she started down the hallway that led to her bedroom. He watched her, his blood whizzing in his brain when he realized where she was going.

Looking over her shoulder, she halted for a second, one hand on the door frame.

“Are you coming?”

He nodded and followed her into the hallway before he found his voice. “Laurel?”

She faced him again. “Yes?”

“Have we said what we needed to?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“We start from here, right now — no more sorrys, no more regrets?”

“No more.”

He approached her, reached up to touch her face, and put his hand back down.

“James?”

“I’m . . . I’m almost afraid to touch you. Once I do, I think I’ll lose control of myself.” He paused, and his voice dropped to almost a whisper. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve let that happen.”

She took his hand, and brought it up to her cheek. “I’ve dreamed about this, especially since you came back last summer — what it would feel like for you to touch me again.” She drew his hand down her neck, over her breast, along the curve of her waist, over her hip.

“Holy hell,” he growled in a ragged voice.

“No, I think it would be just like heaven.” She moved his hand over her abdomen, up to the left center of her chest. Her heart was under his hand, beating wildly against his palm. “This is yours — yours to own, to keep — yours to break.”

“Oh God, Laurel. I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t.”

He pushed her against the wall, his lips devouring hers, tongue in her mouth, hands unbuttoning, unzipping, tugging on clothing, and casting it aside. She pulled his shirt off, and her hands fumbled at the zipper of his pants. He drew back a little and looked at her — her eyes closed, naked as the day she was born, the rise and fall of her chest as she took little gasping breaths. He grabbed her hands and trapped them above her head, pinning her body with his. “Need you . . . Need . . . to be inside you, be part of you.” He dove back in to possess her mouth. “Please, sweetheart.”

She nodded.

He lifted her, and long arms and legs wound around him as he walked her toward the bed, grinning like a kid at Christmas. He gently tossed her on the covers and fell on top of her, holding himself off her with his arms while she squealed with delighted surprise.

The playful roughhousing gave him a much-needed respite from his driving need to take her right then and damn the consequences. He didn’t want to rush her, and a part of him felt insecure about loving her again after all that time. He slid down her body, kissing, touching each part as he went — shoulders, arms, hands. He drew her fingers into his mouth one at a time and blazed up in flames at the erotic noises she made. His mouth traveled over her middle, and he nibbled on her hipbones, less sharp and angled than he remembered — softer, rounder, and more womanly than those of an eighteen-year-old. Somehow that made her exciting in a completely different way, better than any fantasy he’d been able to concoct on his own. He raised his head to see her face, breathed in, and moaned with fierce longing as his mouth descended to her inner thigh.

“I remember this.” Her voice was plaintive and raw. “Oh God, I remember . . . ”

He was speechless, unable to answer, except by enflaming her more. He touched her with his fingers, pushing into her, and then he took her with his mouth. She shattered against him, calling his name. When he stood to finish undressing, he saw tears in her eyes and her lips were trembling.

“Sweetheart?” he asked, concerned, anxious.

She wiped the tears away with her hand and smiled up at him.

“They’re happy tears. How I’ve missed you. How I’ve wanted you.” She sighed and held out her arms. “James.”

He fell into them, sliding into her and closing his eyes against the surge of his own emotions. “So good,” he muttered in a thick, hoarse voice. “It’s still so damn good.”

She called to him, urging him on.

He lost his mind, pounding into her while she met him with her hips, sought his eyes with her own, and cradled him in her arms. His world stopped as he filled her, and in the bliss of a union born of love and loss, he buried his soul in hers.