Page 91 of The Cabin
There’s as much silence as there is talk.
Taking it slow means the days grow shorter and the winds off the lake colder, and the pine trees sway and the lake produces wavelets and now making a fire in the evening is a necessity, because there’s no other heat source for these cabins. Taking it slow means kissing and kissing, knowing at some point we’ll cross into more, but still content to explore this space first.
It’s growing at ease with each other.
We become more and more comfortable in her cabin than mine. I sleep on the couch, sometimes.
We have not ventured into her bedroom.
I shower at my place, she at hers.
I’ve seen no more of her body than when I first met her.
She has days where she needs space, and I go fishing or work on carving in my cabin. Sometimes I’m the one who needs that space, and she gives it to me. And we understand.
Is it weeks? Months? I don’t know. Time just sort of slips by, unnoticed, here at these cabins on the lake.
I never finished Adrian’s book: we’re off-book, now. I will, at some point. Now, I’m following the script as we write it.
It’s fully fall, and being outside means thick sweaters and wool socks. It’s been a day where Nadia needs space, and I can tell this time it’s not because she’s missing him, but because she’s thinking. It’s the gloaming, silvery-purple autumn evening.
I find her on the dock; I can almost feel her out here, waiting to talk to me.
I sit in the chair beside hers. Wait for her.
“It’s like you knew I was going to come looking for you,” she says.
“I did.”
“Are you getting impatient?” she asks, eventually.
“With what?”
“Me. Us.” She turns in her chair to look at me. “Holding back.”
“I’m not holding back.”
“Nathan.” Her eyes are scolding, but her smile is understanding. “The truth, please, always.”
I sigh, think. “It’s not that I’m holding back. We’re taking our time exploring what it means for us to…be together. And I’m okay with that.” I reach out and take her hand. “Yeah, I’m a man, with a man’s desires and needs, and yeah, it’s been a hell of a long time. But I’ll wait. And I’m not waiting for you, I’m waiting for us.”
She rubs one of my knuckles with her thumb. “Thank you for being so patient. For understanding.”
“It’s as much for me as it is you, Nadia. I want this between us to be…right, and good. I’m not ready to rush into anything either. It’s new, for both of us.”
“But you’re still taking your cues from me as to…how far things go.”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I’ve had more time, I guess. I know I’m as ready as I can be to be intimate with someone again. It’s a big step, and it’s not something I take lightly. I’m not gonna rush into that just because my dumb growly male hormones are being pushy. It means more to me than just something physical.”
“You are holding back what your dumb growly male hormones want, then.”
“Of course.”
She stands up, still holding my hand. “Let’s go in. I’m hungry.” On the way up the steps to her cabin, she glances up at me. “Nathan?”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “Yeah.”
“You’re spinning it to be about you, but really, it’s for me.”
“Yeah, maybe a little.”
“Or a lot.” She lifts up and kisses me, a slant-wise kiss across my lips. “And I just wanted to say thank you.” She touches my lips. “Don’t say anything else. I just want you to know that I see it, and I’m thankful.”
We go in, and we have a quiet dinner which we make together, something neither of us has ever done before. There’s burgers fried in a cast iron skillet, puffy whole grain buns, a tossed salad, a bottle of wine.
We’re on the couch, and lately, this is where we kiss, and then eventually she goes to bed and I sleep here, on the couch. Better than alone, in my cabin, far away from her. And I think she likes having me near. It’s a nice couch, comfortable. But I think I’ve also been sensing her coming to a shift.
She has something on her mind, something she’s still chewing on, and I wait her out.
“So…” she trails off, starts again. “I’ve tried to come up with the best way to say this, but can’t make it sound any better. So here goes.”
I touch her cheek with my thumb. “Whatever it is, just say it.”
“I’m ready for the next step, but I want you to lead us there. I know you’ve been waiting for me, and like you said earlier, I think I’m as ready as I can be.”
“There’s no rush, Nadia.”
“I know.” She smiles, takes my hand. “I’m not rushing. I don’t feel rushed. I feel ready, even though I know some part of me will never quite be all the way ready. And I want more. I’m getting impatient with just kissing you.” Another thoughtful pause. “You make me feel beautiful, and seen, and appreciated, and safe. And I want the next step.”
