Page 75 of Is This for Real?
He looks at me. “My dad said she wouldn’t change.”
“He did?” I knew it. His dad does weigh in on his relationships.
“Well, he was trying to make me feel better that she had rejected me.”
“But he’s a psychologist. He must believe in the power of people to change. I mean, psychologists say that children who lost their parents young can have commitment issues, but not all do.”I need to address head-on what his father may have said about me.
“Did you get counseling after your parents died?”
“No. Maybe I should have.” I rub my forehead. “But I did express a lot of my feelings in writing.”
Rory nods. “You did. I should show that piece to my dad.”
As if I’ve been a topic of conversation.It doesn’t have to mean that. It could mean that he thinks my writing might help others coping with death.I was very emotionally open with that piece. Why did I stop? It may really be the problem with my writing.
“But after that story, everyone wanted to call me and talk to me about grief and dying and losing someone, and I was this safe person to talk to about it. That definitely helped me initially, but then it got to be too much. I didn’t want to talk about it all the time. Strangers called me to talk to me about someone they’d lost, and it would make me so sad. But I felt I couldn’tnottalk about it with them because most people don’t want to talk about grief, and they needed an outlet. And I certainly didn’t want to add to their pain,” I say. “But the pressure of ‘you handle this so well’ became too much—especially when I didn’t feel like I was handling it well. I was falling apart, but Michael’s reaction made me afraid to share that with anyone. Except Zelda, who obviously knew since she lived with me. And I didn’t want to just be that person who lost her parents. You really rescued me there. Because you treated me like normal.” I place my hand over his.
“Not like normal. That’s way too boring for you.” He squeezes my hand.
“Like quirky in a good way.”
“Yes.” Rory meets my glance and holds it. “Your reaction makes sense to me.” His thumb moves up and down my palm.
The lights dim and the curtain rises. His arm brushes against mine on the seat armrest. Finally, the world of Oscar Wilde quiets my mind and I relax into the play, as much as I can when I am attuned to Rory’s every shift.
Chapter twenty-six
Onahappybuzzfrom a good story, we walk around the Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain in Piccadilly Circus and down Piccadilly Avenue toward our hotel. Just as we’re about to enter the lobby, Rory grabs my hand. Surprised, I look at him, but then I hear Myrtle yoo-hooing.
Myrtle stands way too close to Rory and keeps poking him in the chest as she tells us about the play they saw. She invites us to join them in the hotel bar, but Rory says no because we’re jetlagged. He suggests that we have drinks another night.
We escape into the elevator. Rory just shakes his head.
I am gathering up my courage for tonight’s nightgown reveal.
He unlocks the door and clicks on the light.
I suggest he take the bathroom first. I’m tempted to wear my T-shirt again.Stop being silly.It’s no more revealing than a bathing suit. Except it’s lacy and red. But not sheer. Zelda and I checked that.
Rory comes out of the bathroom in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His legs are thin, but muscular—like runners’ legs. He clears his throat. “Eyes up here, Curls.”
“Just admiring the goods. My fake dating self has very good taste.”
He ducks his head and smiles crookedly.
I sashay off to the bathroom.
I slip on the red nightgown. It didn’t look this revealing at home. And I do not have the body of a gazelle. I’m more like your friendly cocker spaniel. And who would you rather be in bed with—a gazelle or a cocker spaniel? Clearly a cocker spaniel. So, I’m good.
I walk out of the bathroom and straight into Rory. He steadies me with his hands. I look up and say, “Eyes up here, Rory.”
Rory’s gaze meets mine, and he blushes. “I didn’t picture you as the type to wear red negligees to bed.”
I’m not.But now I am.“I’m full of surprises.”
We each climb into bed. Sitting each at our respective edges. Gazes ahead.
There is silence. My stomach feels all fluttery with Rory so close.
