Page 6 of Before We Say Goodbye
“If you weren’t so harmless looking,” she said, “I might be offended.”
Otis froze, then stumbled for words as his cheeks warmed. “I didn’t mean to—”
She poked him in the side; her bracelets jingled. “Chill, man. I’m not offended. Tell me ... where you from?”
He almost claimed to be an Aussie as some sort of joke but resisted at the last moment. He was never funny when he tried. “A faraway place.”
“Okay, man from far away, why are you afraid of me?”
He found her eyes this time, willing himself not to break away. “I won’t insult you by complimenting your looks. Perhaps it’s not even your appearance.” He considered the question. “Honestly, I don’t quite know. You have this way about you that’s terribly ... I don’t know ... notunsettling. It’s quite soothing, actually.”
“You’re really good at playing the innocent cute one from a faraway land, aren’t you?”
“I’m not playing at anything. Simply trying to come up with the right words. They’ve escaped me.”
“It’s probably just love at first sight.” Not even da Vinci could have painted her sly look after that one.
Otis chuckled to himself. The only thing he had on her was a few inches. He was a farm truck on the racetrack in Monaco. She was the lead car, but he had to keep his head.
“Love at first sight,” he mused out loud, grasping for that one elusive atom of confidence that he had in there somewhere. “I don’t know that I’d go quite that far, but I can only speak for me.” To the dear Lord he prayed she couldn’t hear the timidity clinging to each syllable that left his mouth. “Have I taken your breath away?” He smiled at his own audacity. The atom swelled into a molecule.
She apparently found him entertaining, as she looked at him like she was engaging in a comedy bit with Walter Matthau. “Who is this man that I’ve sat next to on the bus?” She asked it almost like she was on stage reciting a monologue.Who is this man and why hath he been brought into my life?
Otis pictured the runt of a litter stumbling into the prize puppy. All the effort he’d put into creating this confident facade suddenly felt exhausting, and he retreated into his shell.
For a minute there he’d impressed a girl. For a microsecond, he was a normal kid falling in love. Wasn’t it nice? No, not nice. And not sweet. It was extraordinary, a ride on a magic carpet, like those Steppenwolf fellows sang about on the radio earlier.
Otis turned away, hating himself for doing so but unable to wield the false bravado for even another breath.
She poked him again, a strong index finger right in the back.
“What’d you poke me in the kidney for? Do you plan on assaulting me the entire ride to New York?”
An angelic giggle poured out of her. “Kidney? What are you, an anatomist?” She didn’t wait for his response. “I don’t know what I’m planning. I’ve certainly hit a nerve, though, haven’t I? I don’t even know your name.”
He took a desperate breath, as if he’d sprinted across the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Am I wearing you out?”
Her demeanor changed in a moment, a trait that Otis would come to see as her defining one. She always claimed to have two heads, as any good Gemini should. Otis would soon see a thousand more. The person she changed into at that moment was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding woman in existence. That side of her would always be his favorite.
She set her delicate hand on his, nearly stealing his breath. “Can we slow it down and just talk? I’ve had a shitty day, and I need someone who won’t judge me.”
Her words brought him out of his own head. Suddenly she was more than a pretty face and petite and delectable body. She was as human as he was, someone who deserved more than what he was giving her.
His heartbeat slowed to an easy rhythm, and he gave in to a calm surrender. “I’m Otis Till. Of London, by way of Montana. What’s your name?”
“I’m Rebecca Bradshaw. A somewhat proud daughter of the Golden State. A searcher of sorts hoping I’m not a lost cause.”
If her looks had torn through to his heart, her voice—that silky voice—and what she said, the way she spoke, they penetrated his soul. The boy who had climbed on the bus took a step toward becoming a man, simply by falling into her presence.
Had someone asked Otis if he had imagined they’d spend the rest of their lives together after that brief first encounter, he would have laughed mightily and responded, “Yes and no. I was smitten, and she seemed to be smitten too. We were the same person, and we found ourselves on that bus, two birds who’d fallen from the nest coming together in what I could only call magic. I didn’t believe in myself and questioned everything I did or said, but yes, I had a sneaking suspicion something would come of us.”
Those first few hours went by in a blur. Otis forgot about the world and the people around them, the place they were going. It was simply Otis and Rebecca rotating on their own orbit around the sun.
Chapter 2
The Power of Love
