Eight
Breathless
Cooper took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen, scooping up the wet sponge along the way. “I’ll make a deal with you. I wash, you rinse. Okay?” He smiled, showing his beautifully white teeth.
“Okay,” I said, flashing him a brilliant smile of my own. “You know, we could have the dishes done already if you…”
He shushed me by placing one finger over my lips. “Yes, but it was more fun this way. Don’t you think?”
Aware that he hadn’t moved his finger from my lips yet, I nodded. He removed his finger and together we turned toward the sink to complete the task. No words were spoken between us, but we seemed to communicate with smiles and an understanding that we both needed a minute to think about the moment we just had. That incredibly intense moment. I can’t say what was going through his mind, but I was desperately trying to regroup and organize all of my thoughts and feelings into a mental file cabinet to be retrieved for later.
After the last dish was washed and put away he looked over at me. “How ‘bout some music? I noticed you had a guitar sitting out. Yours?”
“It was my daddy’s. I was messing around with it last night.”
He turned around and leaned against the sink, folding his arms in front of his chest. “You play?”
“Some… I’m not good enough to play in front of people. In fact, the only person who’s ever heard me play was my daddy and that’s only because he taught me how. I just play for myself, really.”
“Would you play for me?” he asked, looking intently at his shoelaces.
I shrugged. “I dunno. I…uh…I would be too embarrassed.”
“I’ll only play for you if you agree to play for me.” He glanced up. “Deal?”
Brown eyes searching brown eyes, I said, “Deal. You go first. It’ll give me time to drink a couple of glasses of wine. I’ll need the liquid courage.”
His eyes began smiling long before the corners of his mouth broke free with a crooked grin and then he laughed. “That’s fair.”
I settled down on one edge of the couch and Cooper settled on the other end. I watched him with the guitar; watched how his hands moved across the strings; how he leaned his ear down to tune the instrument; how he closed his eyes when he plucked out a chord until he was satisfied with the outcome. He finally looked up appearing pleased.
“I’m ready.”
I took a sip of my wine and leaned into the couch cushion.
He counted off 1…2…3… and just like that, music was playing. He played a song by Ed Sheeran about building a Lego house. His voice was smooth and beautiful; masculine and sweet at the same time. It was hypnotic. When he sang, he sang from the heart. Watching the expressions move across his face was breathtaking. I was awestruck and completely speechless. He stopped playing and looked at me, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he broke the silence.
“I believe it’s your turn now.”
Words. I need to say words. Clearing my throat I said, “No, wait. Cooper, that was beautiful. You were wonderful. Do you have any idea how great you sound?”
He looked down at the guitar laid across his lap. “Thank you, Lily. I’m glad you think so.”
“I can’t be the only one who thinks so. You play every Friday night at Joe’s so clearly people love listening to you.”
He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, I suppose. But….” He looked down, then picked up the guitar and handed it over to me.
“But what?” I said, still watching his every movement.
“But now I want to hear you. So, don’t keep me waiting.” He flashed his most endearing smile and I crumbled like a cookie.
I sighed. How could I possibly follow that? I took a big sip of my wine and set the glass down, then shook out my hands and tried to relax my fingers. I adjusted the guitar across my lap, blew out a breath of air in an attempt to calm my nerves, and then calmly set my fingers on the strings. I decided to play Amanda Seyfried’s ‘Little House’. I tried not to look directly at Cooper while I sang. I closed my eyes and pretended that I was alone so I could get through it. When it was over I opened my eyes and set the guitar down between us.
“That was beautiful, Lily,” he said, looking at me intently, those chocolate eyes searching, studying me.
“Thanks,” I said shyly.
“I already knew you could sing, but that was amazing. I mean, truly amazing.”
I didn’t say anything. I offered a smile of gratitude for his kindness instead. Plus I was embarrassed.
“Am I the only other person who’s ever heard you sing, other than your dad?”
“Yep.”
“That’s a shame, Lil. You should play for people.”
“No way. I can’t do what you do. I can’t get up in front of people and do that. I’m not made that way.”
“How do you know? Have you ever tried?”
“No…no. I can’t. My palms are sweaty just playing in front of you in my own house. There’s no way I… No. I can’t.” I got up and took my empty glass to the sink.
Cooper let it go at that point, opting not to push it any further and I was grateful. “Okay,” he said.
He sang a few more songs for me and I soaked in every note, every syllable, every breath. I studied him while he sang, memorizing every line and every freckle on his face. I admired his one dimple and I began noticing the way the corners of his mouth rise up just when he was about to say my name. I wondered if he even realized he did that. I studied the way his Adam’s apple moved up and down, the way his fingers strummed the guitar, I studied every movement his body made. Then I began to question everything about me and about him. Why was I so thirstily drinking in every little thing about Cooper? Before, looking at him too long would cause me to stop breathing. Now, it caused me physical pain to take my eyes off of him. Actual physical pain. Like an elephant was sitting on my chest.
Forcing myself to look away, I got up. “I’ll be right back,” I said, and quickly left the room, headed for my bedroom and closed the door behind me.
I let out the breath I had been holding and slid down the door and onto the floor. I pulled my legs up, folded my arms across my knees, looking up towards the ceiling searching for an answer. I didn’t even know what the question was. It was too much. Cooper was too much.
I can’t. I can’t do this. It’s too much.
I heard a knock on my door. “Lily? You okay?”
“Um, yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.” I rose off the floor and it was then I realized I had been crying. My face was wet and my eyes stung from the tears. I gave myself time, pulled myself together, and opened the door.
Cooper was still waiting for me on the other side of it. His voice soft and low he said, “Are you sure you’re okay? I thought I heard you crying.”
“No, I’m okay. I just….needed a minute. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run out like that.” Feeling awkward I shoved my hands in my back pockets. “Come on, let’s go back to the living room.”
I started to walk forward but Cooper grabbed my arm – gently of course. “Wait,” he said. “Lily, tell me what’s wrong.”
“I couldn’t breathe. I needed to breathe. I…I …needed a minute to catch my breath. I can’t explain it.” I was looking down at the floor because I knew I sounded crazy and couldn’t look at him.
He sighed and pulled me toward him for a hug. He wrapped both arms around me. “Okay,” he whispered. “We’ll go slower. We’ll go as slow as you need to go. Just tell me what you need, Lil, and I’ll do it.”
I stood in my kitchen and looked around the room, visually tracing the steps Cooper took when he was here. I could still smell him even though he left hours ago. His energy was so strong that I could still feel his presence all around me, and yet, I was acutely aware how alone I was in this big house by myself. I honestly don’t know how my daddy did it – living here by himself for so long. I stood fixed in one place, replaying the night’s events like a movie reel in my head. It all had led up to Cooper kissing me and if I closed my eyes I could still feel the tingle on my lips from where he touched them with his. The feelings I had for Cooper were getting stronger and I felt like I was being swallowed up by them. It was an inner battle that I was constantly fighting; each side wanting to declare victory. Part of me wanted to let go and allow myself to get swept up in the moment; the other part of me was furiously fighting to hold on, to be cautious and protect my heart. I lost myself when I was with Cooper and that scared me. No, it terrified me. I didn’t know which part of me would win this war within. But the worst part was that I didn’t want to be this person; this pathetic lump of putty that cowered at the chance of experiencing the very thing I’ve waited for my whole life. I looked to the heavens and prayed for strength, prayed for courage. Then, still looking up, I said, “Daddy, if you’re up there and you can see me, tell me what to do.”