My mom always used to say that relationships always work out better when the man loves the woman a little bit more. That was certainly true of my parents’ relationship. And I’m pretty damn sure it’s true of Vera and me. That’s okay if what my mom said is true. Although it’s hard to make that assertion with the way things are between my parents now.
Even though I wore her out pretty good, Vera still isn’t sleeping. I wish I could fix things for her. Losing Marie was a blow I’m not sure she can come all the way back from. She hasn’t been the same since Carter showed her that photo. Always before she’d eventually bounce back. Not this time, and it scares the fuck out of me. I know a little something about grief and guilt and how the two wrap around you and squeeze until you can’t feel anything else. They eat at you until that’s all you are. I could tell her a thousand times in a thousand ways that it’s not her fault, but she’s never going to believe me.
I didn’t believe Cora or Vera when they told me the same thing. It wasn’t until I was able to work through the grief that I was finally able to let it go.
“We should have a memorial service for Marie,” I tell her quietly.
“Who’s going to come?”
“You and me.”
“There’s no point.”
“Of course there’s a point.”
“Who’s going to choose her casket and headstone? Who’s going to put flowers on her grave? Who’s going to visit it on holidays and her birthday?” Her voice gets a little louder with each question. Now we’re getting to the bottom of what’s been keeping her up.
“We’ll talk to the agents and see if they can help us with her arrangements. If we choose cremation, we can take her with us wherever we go. Then, when we’re settled, we can do something permanent for her and you can visit her whenever you want.”
She’s quiet so long I wonder if she might have fallen asleep. Or she’s plotting my death.
“You’re always way ahead of me,” she grumbles. “It’s annoying.”
I snuggle in deeper next to her. “But not as annoying as my snoring.”
“Definitely not.”
“I love you.”
There’s nothing from her for quite a while, and I start to get the feeling that I’m way ahead of her on this too. That’s okay. She’ll get there. Eventually. I hope.
“No one’s ever said that to me and actually meant it.” There’s shame in her tone, as if it’s her fault no one’s ever loved her before.
“Well, I’m saying it. I love you. You don’t have to say it back. Just try to get used to it. Okay?”
“I’m not sure if I will.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep saying it.”
“What if I can’t ever say it back?”
“Then you don’t say it.” I’m not worried about this. I don’t need the words to know how she feels about me. It’s in everything she does and thinks and says. She just needs to figure that out like I had to figure it out.
“You don’t have to say it if I don’t say it.”
“Oh, but I do,” I say, tickling her. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She squirms around, giggling and trying to push me away. It’s the freest and easiest I’ve seen her in too long. The silliness and laughter give way to a very serious kiss. She’s quiet after, stroking my face. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking. Maybe she’s working on that I-love-you. Then again, maybe not. She’s got more than my twinge of insecurity to deal with right now.
“I think maybe I do love you,” she says, thinking out loud.
“Please don’t humor me. And don’t you dare say it during sex. I’ll never believe it.”
“I definitely love you during sex.”
“See, now, that’s just wrong.”
“I’m serious,” she goes on. “I think I love you.”
“Jesus. Why are you torturing me? Next you’re going to tell me you think I make you come.”
“Oh, no. There is no think on that one. You definitely do.”
“Love is like an orgasm. You either come or you don’t. Once you have an orgasm you know for sure when you don’t. There is no kind-of-sort-of-maybe in climaxing.”
“That’s beautiful. You should write poetry.” She makes a motion like she’s writing in the air. “Love is like an orgasm…Barreling toward a chasm…It’s so very taxing…When you’re climaxing…Once you come…You know you’re done…Love is like an orgasm.”
I groan. “That’s awful.”
“I’m going to find a way to put it in our vows.”
I tighten my hold on her. “God, I love you.”
Chapter 36
Vera
“I’m never going to get to meet my dad and brother, am I?” I ask Beau out of the blue.
We’ve been cooped up in this apartment for almost two weeks. There’s nothing to do. We can’t take a walk. We can’t make phone calls. We can’t use the computer or watch TV. The only thing we can do is have lots and lots of sex, which we’ve been doing pretty much nonstop night and day. The marshals assigned to watch over us have gotten to where they don’t even roll their eyes anymore when Beau picks me up and takes me to the bedroom. I’m pretty sure we’re on our way to setting some kind of world record.