Page 81 of The Good Guy on My Porch

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Oscar

I stopped at the end of the walk, next to the mailbox. Dilly was sitting on the porch. She was looking in my direction, but it was clear she hadn’t seen me, she was deep in thought. There were dark circles under her eyes and her mouth was set in a firm frown. I stepped forward, rolling my suitcase behind me, but she didn’t flinch. She kept petting Buddy, her hand moving mechanically in his fur, as she stared straight ahead and past me as I moved forward.

“Dilly,” I said, when I was right in front of her. She flinched and looked up at me, and the pain in her expression nearly cracked my heart right in half. Molly’s wedding had been beautiful and perfect, not because of the location or the service, but because of the intense love between her and Daniel, the kind of love a person will swim through shark-infested waters for. The kind of love I saw between all my sisters and their spouses. It mirrored what I felt for Dilly.

“You’re wrong,” she said, like we were in the middle of a conversation.

I sat down on the other side of Buddy. “What am I wrong about?” I wanted to pull her into my arms, but I knew better than to rush things, knew better than to push.

“I’m not hiding behind my mother. I’m facing reality. The reality is that I’ll always have to go to her when she calls, I’ll never be free to leave town. I’ll never be free to get serious about any guy, because I don’t have anything to give. Everything I have I’ve given to my mother, will continue giving to her.”

I didn’t answer right away, because what she was saying was true. It would never be easy to date her, especially with her mother needing so much of her time and, if I was going to take that on, I needed to be in it one hundred percent. “What if I don’t ask you for anything? You don’t need to give anything to me. Let me help you, let me give to you.”

She looked over at me, her eyes watery, but lit with some bright light that hadn’t been there before. “You don’t really want that.”

“I want you,” I said. “More than anything. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have you in my life.”

“As your friend?”

“I want more than that. I want you to let me love you. I know you don’t love me, but I know you feel—”

“I do love you.” Her words should have lifted me up with happiness, but the sad voice in which they were spoken made it clear she wasn’t happy that she loved me. “That’s why I can’t offer you more than friendship. I can’t love you, Oscar. My mother loved my father, so much, and losing him was what sent her into this hell of fear and loneliness. If you and I got serious or had a child…I don’t want to become my mother, Oscar, but I can’t be sure I won’t. I’m not going to risk hurting anyone I love the way she hurt me, I’m not going to be a burden on anyone I care about.”

Everything clicked into place. “You aren’t your mother, Dilly. As far as I can tell, you aren’t afraid of anything.”

She turned to me, her expression stricken. “I am afraid, Oscar. I’m afraid all the time. It’s why I force myself to do the things that scare me, like I can build up my resistance.”

I reached for her but stopped when she flinched. “Everyone’s afraid sometimes, Dilly. It’s when you let the fear rule your actions that it becomes a problem. You don’t let anything stop you.”

She shrugged, unconvinced.

“And even if you did get sick,” I said. “I know you wouldn’t refuse treatment. You are so independent, so determined to do everything on your own, you’d never fight against anything that would give you a shot at keeping that independence.”

“You deserve better.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. Nothing I was saying was getting through to her.

“I don’t want better. I want you. But I’m not going to settle for being your friend. I can’t sit here next to you and watch the sunset without holding your hand, without pulling you into my lap and kissing you.” I pushed to my feet and stood. “Whenever you’re ready to be with me, as my girlfriend, I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She didn’t look up at me, she stared out at the mountains, her jaw set in a hard line. I watched the side of her face for a moment, feeling like the worst kind of jerk, before I went inside and closed the door behind me.

---