Page 88 of Look, Don't Touch

Life. It’s all about perspective.

I stop our progress and fling my arms around my aunt. Something I haven’t done in far too long. I hug her for all I’m worth and then some. My tears start slowly and then gain traction.

“I know I am.” I try to say. It comes out garbled and breathy.

“Me too.” Nat chokes.

We sob until they turn to hiccups and then subside. Nat kisses my forehead. She pushes me back to arm’s length and just stares at me with a look of wonder in her eyes. Her fingertips smooth over my cheeks, wiping away my tears. “I don’t really have a right to be, but you make me so damn proud.”

“Of course you do. You raised me.”

“No.” Her head makes a slow shake from side to side. “You were fully formed when you came to live with me. A hard worker. A kind soul. A girl who wouldn’t take shit from anyone.” She pulls me close and tucks me under her chin. “Your parents did the hard work, and I got to reap the benefits. I got to see you blossom into a beautiful woman, a successful woman with a loving heart who still won’t take shit from anyone. Not even me.”

My parents taught me the value of hard work and determination. They taught me about caring for others and how to stand up for myself. They were so much more to me than their end. It’s about time I remember that.

“I love you, Nat.”

“Oh God, Hay Bale, I love you more than anything.”

I know she does, and I don’t want her to live her life for me. I need her to live it for her.

“You should live with Laurent. If he makes you happy, I want you to go.”

She levers back and blinks at me as though I spoke Ongota, a Southwestern Ethiopian language that only ten people speak.

“It’s not that simple.” Nat chokes.

“Isn’t it?” I shrug. “Do you love him?”

“What is love?”

“You love me. So you know what it is.”

“Loving you is easy.” Nat cups my cheeks. “You’re my blood, my breath, my everything.”

My heart does a flip flop seizure thing in my chest. I remember Arlo’s words, when talking about his reason for coming to therapy, for wanting to touch and be touched.

She is everything.

My voice quakes. “Love is trust and respect. Affection and obsession, tempered by patience and understanding. It is commitment. Love is wanting the best for the other and trying to give it, no matter what.”

I hug my arms around myself to keep me together. Nat wraps hers around me too. All the pieces of myself I’ve held neatly together—well, as neatly as a sex addiction will allow—begin to quake and tear at the seams.

“I love Laurent.” There’s reservation in her statement.

“But?”

“I don't know that I should. We have a lot in common, share so much, but in ten years, what if he regrets not having children?”

“Do you regret not having children?” I push back, thankful to push aside my own panic for Nat’s.

“No, but I made that decision a long time ago.” She holds up two hands, flicking one wildly. “Long before you came into my life.” My aunt goes still. Her face blanches. “Not that I wasn’t happy to have you.” Then her nose wrinkles. “Not that I was happy about what happened. I?—”

“I understand.” I grab both her hands and hold them in mine. “I understand.” My smile is sad but not forced. “I think you two have some conversations to wade through.” I give her a shrug. “But they’re conversations worth having. Now, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

She takes a deep breath and shakes with her exhale. “Your parents will be by mine. I remember where they are.” She points. “By those trees.”

Nat tugs me along, and we walk toward a thin stand of short trees. With no blocks or street signs to mark the distance, it takes longer to get there than I expect. It’s as if they get farther and farther away with every step, but then we’re there, standing in front of the graves of two grandparents I never met. Come to think of it, I’d never met any of my grandparents. My dad had been the last baby of ten. So his parents were long gone by the time I arrived.

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