chapter Thirteen
* * * * *
I jump as I hear the car door ease open and feel someone sidle in next to me. It’s not Slade, I know the weight of his body well enough by now. I peer through the tears that cling to my eyelashes. Annabelle closes the door behind her and turns to pull me against her small body. Our engine roars to life as the drummer hugs me tightly. I feel a fresh wave of tears pouring down my face at her simple act of compassion. I pull away just slightly and look up into her concerned face.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I ask, sniffling. “You’re supposed to be on the bus!”
“The town cars are both coming with us,” she says, “I can hitch a ride with them.”
“But...why?” I ask, “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s just...what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she says. “We should both be on that tour bus, but here we are. Headed in the exact opposite direction. I can tell when something’s wrong with Slade, you know. I’m pretty perceptive. And you, my dear, are rather an open book.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, “You don’t have to worry. I’m just a little emotional after tonight. I’ll be fine. You should go back and join up with the guys.”
“Too late,” she says, as the car begins to move, “You’re stuck with me now. And I want to know what’s going on.”
“Won’t Slade be mad that we’re talking?” I ask. It would be wonderful to talk to a woman about what’s going on with me right now, but I don’t want to cross any lines.
“It’s fine,” she assures me, “Slade is a big boy. But I’ve known him since he was a little boy, you know. We’ve all known each other all our lives. Which means that I was there when his dad died, and he became the man of the house at age ten.”
“That must have been horrible,” I say softly.
“It was,” Annabelle says, “Slade locked himself in a suit of armor and refused to be anything to anyone but the rescuer, the protector. Which was fine with his mom and sisters, but when girls became a part of the equation...Well, let’s just say that Slade’s longest relationship has lasted about three months. He’s always refused to let anyone in, because once he does, he feels solely responsible for them. And he can’t do that to himself anymore.”
“Is that why he’s closed off to me?” I ask.
“Closed off?” Annabelle says, “Julia, you’re the first woman I’ve seen him open up to. Ever. He already cares about you, I think he even loves you, in a way that means he has to protect you no matter what."
Did she just say he loves me?
"He’s not sending you away to keep you at arm’s length," she continues, "You’re in his heart, now. He’s just doing what he thinks he has to, so that you’ll always be there. He’s trying to do right by you the only way he knows how.”
“It doesn’t feel right,” I say, “Leaving him feels so wrong.”
“That’s because it is,” Annabelle says, “You two should be together. I’m not saying you have to settle down and get a dog and a backyard. I’m saying that right now, you’re important to each other. I can see it. There’s something between you that has to be consummated. Pardon the phrasing. You owe it to each other to see this thing through, wherever it leads. And this time, Julia, you have to be the bigger person. You have to go to him and refuse to leave. You have to cure him of this delusion once and for all. I know it’s unfair, but it’s what you have to do.”
“What if he doesn’t want to be cured?” I ask.
“Then you’re out a trip to New York. Big deal,” she says. “Blow off your road trip and come get your man. He wants you, I know he wants you. He just has to let himself, without worrying about consequences. And you do to.”
We travel on in silence for a while, and I let Annabelle’s words sink in. She’s perfectly happy to let me dwell on her orders. When we finally reach Philly and stop beside my parked car, I pull myself out of the seat and take deep, steadying breaths. Annabelle peers out after me as I approach my little car.
“You know what’s right, Julia,” she says, “Don’t deny yourself. I hope everything works out. I hope that you get to be happy.”
“Thank you Annabelle,” I say.
She smiles and closes the door. The town cars race away, leaving me alone in the abandoned parking lot. I’ve never been more conflicted about anything in my life. I sink into the driver’s seat of my car and stare through the windshield. Do I go home, get my things together, and head West on my solo road trip? Try and force Slade out of my mind with the open road and the breeze in my hair? Or do I head East to New York City, force him to move beyond his fears and doubts, and accept the gift we’ve been given. I turn the key and close my eyes. In my most secret of hearts, there’s only one option. And I’ve known what I have to do all along.
I put my car in drive and head East toward the man I need.