Page 15 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
Not that my family and I aren’t tight. In fact, some people think the Original Fullers are disgustingly supportive of one another. But when you let your roots spread in the same small town where you were raised, you also risk feeling like you’re living at home forever.
So as soon as I graduated high school, I moved out and rented my own place. Took on multiple jobs to pay my way. Only came home on Sundays for dinner. At the time, I had independence, but that was only masking what Ididn’thave: confidence. Faith in myself. Faith that anyone outside my family might believe in me.
I had no grand plan or any idea who or what I wanted to be.
Meanwhile Sara had her professional goalson lock since kindergarten. She was going to follow her father’s path. Undergrad at Stanford then law school at Columbia, with a couple years of prestigious internships in between. Her future was big law in the city. Mine was small-town, USA.
Hathaway vs. Fuller.
So I told myself I was just making things easier on Sara, letting her off the hook by ending things first. But the man in me now recognizes I was mostly protecting my own ego.
Truth is, I still am.
Back then, she didn’t understand why I pushed her away. And to this day, I don’t think she has any idea how I truly felt about her. Which is the way it should be. The way things have to remain. Our futures are still at odds. I’m a hometown teacher, she’s a New York attorney. No use denying that or hoping for something different.
By the time the bathwater’s grown lukewarm, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that my being here with Sara for the next few days won’t change anything between us.
Itcan’tchange anything.
Years ago, I let my emotions dictate my behavior for way too long before I had to accept reality. And reality’s crashing in again on me. Sara’s only here in town for a short time, then she’ll be back to her full-time life, probably working at Hathaway Cooke. What I have to do now is resist any attraction I still feel for her until the doc clears me from her watch. Then I can go back to my house. Alone. And this houseful of memories will once again be a part of my past.
Sara and I won’t have to see each other again.
Stepping out of the tub, dripping water on the bathmat, I grab a towel from the basket to dry off. Too bad all I have to put on are hospital scrubs or my old clothes which still smell a little like smoke and?—
Knock, knock, knock.
“Yes, I’m still alive and awake,” I call through the door.
“Good to know, but I have a delivery for you this time.”
“Hold on.” I wrap the towel around my waist and pull open the door to find Sara standing there clutching an over-stuffed duffle bag. Her eyes dip to my bare torso, then she garbles something that sounds like, “ACK!” When she tries shoving the bag at my body waiting for me to grab it, I glance down at the towel I’m clutching.
“If I let go of this …” I begin, my voice trailing off.
“Don’t let go!” Sara drops the bag and leaps backward, crashing into the wall of the hallway.
“Are you okay?” I ask, dipping my head.
“I’m great,” she squeaks. “Totally great!” But Sara doesn’tseemtotally great. She’s coughing and pounding on her chest. Not to mention her throat’s getting blotchy. Still, a part of me likes that her gaze lingered on my abs. That she’s affected by me after all these years. I’m not proud of this part. It’s just the truth.
And also dangerous.
“No suitcase?” I ask.
Sara starts to sputter, nodding at the bag at my feet. “Ford said … he thinks … he told me to tell you this should be plenty for the next few days.” He’s probably right. And he’s also probably trying to remind me this whole situation is only temporary.
Message received, cousin.
“Is Ford still here?” I crane my neck over Sara’s shoulder.
She shakes her head. “He had to get to the airport. But he wanted me to tell you Merry Christmas, and he’s sorry for bailing on you. I told him none of this is his fault.”
“You’re right.” I bob my head. “It’s not.”
“Anyway.” Sara takes a small step back down the hall, like a getaway in slow motion. “You’re due for another dose of pain meds and antibiotics soon.”
I pull down my brow, still clutching the towel at my waist. “To be honest, I kinda like feeling a little more clear-headed.”Not to mention more in control of my reactions to you.
