Page 179 of Finding Us

“I thought so, too.”

“I’d do it again but I’m too hungry. Maybe later.”

He keeps his eyes on me as I get up and go to the closet. “You should walk around naked more often.”

I laugh. “I know where that would lead. We’d never get anything done. Come on. Let’s go eat.”

On the way to dinner, we stop at the bank and Garret turns in the paperwork for his individual account. Then we use some of Garret’s money to open the joint account, and later, when we need to add money to it, I’ll take some out of the trust. That way we feel like we’re both contributing.

Garret thinks I should keep the credit card Grace gave me and use it for small stuff, like clothes and other things that aren’t living expenses but are just things I want. He said I’d hurt Grace’s feelings if I gave her the card back. And he’s right. The grandma in her feels the need to buy me things and this is her way of doing that. She’s always telling me to go shopping and buy stuff because she knows I never had the opportunity to do so growing up. So I’ll keep the card, but will use it differently.

For dinner we go to the steakhouse Kyle suggested. It’s next to the seafood place we went to for Garret’s belated birthday dinner. The steakhouse is right on the ocean and the food is really good. It’s an expensive place so the atmosphere is upscale; white linen tablecloths, low lighting, and candles on each table.

I feel like Garret and I are on a date, and I like that. I like that he asked me out and took me to a nice place and I even like that he’s paying. Since I got the trust fund, we haven’t gone out like this. We usually get take-out or go to a pizza place or some other casual restaurant. Now I realize that’s probably because Garret didn’t feel like he could take me to a place like this because he’d have to use my money and I have a hard time spending it. I never even thought about that and probably wouldn’t have if we hadn’t had that fight today.

We take our time eating dinner and when we get home, we have sex again, but this time it’s not the intense, throw-me-on-the-bed, makeup sex. It’s a gentler, slower, loving type of sex that reconnects us in a different way than what we did earlier.

Later, as I lie in bed with Garret asleep next to me, I think about the fight we had and realize that I still have a hard time fighting with him. I don’t handle it well. As soon as I feel my anger rising, I shut down. I get quiet. And then I run to get rid of the anger. I don’t notice myself doing this during the fight. It’s not until I think about it later that I figure it out.

I think I act this way because growing up, fighting with my mom was really bad. So bad that I learned to stop doing it when I was around 10. I’d just shut down and refuse to fight with her.

Before that, when my mom and I would fight, she’d stay mad at me for days, screaming and yelling and throwing things at me. Or sometimes she’d just leave and not come back for hours. I remember her doing that when I was really young, maybe 4 or 5, and I didn’t understand. I thought she’d left me for good. I was so scared I’d get in my bed and hide under the covers.

So sometimes, when Garret and I fight and he leaves in the middle of it, like he did today, I panic and think he won’t come back. I know he would never do that, but I still have that fear in the back of my mind.

And if we argue I try to end it as soon as possible. If the argument starts to escalate, I get the urge to shut down. And Garret gets the urge to leave. I guess we both have our issues to deal with when it comes to that.

The mattress moves as Garret rolls onto his side. I snuggle into his back and wrap my arm around him. He wakes up a little, notices my arm there, and picks up my hand, holding it in his and tucking it into his chest, just over his heart.

It makes me smile and I whisper, “I love you.”

He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it, then lays it back on his chest. He whispers back, “I love you, too.”

We may still need to work on how we fight, but we definitely know how to end one.

* * *

On Sunday morning,I wake up and Garret isn’t in bed. I smell coffee brewing and hear him in the kitchen. I go in the bathroom and brush my teeth and slip on the short, silky robe Garret gave me last New Year’s.

I wander into the kitchen and see him standing by the stove, a spatula in his hand. He’s shirtless and wearing his white cotton pajama pants which hang low on his hips.

“Hey.” I go up to him and leave soft kisses over his bare chest, letting my hands roam below his waist. “What’s up?”

He laughs. “Me, if you keep doing that.” He leans down and gives me a slow, sexy kiss as he slips his hand under my robe. “You’ve got nothing on under this.”

“Because I just got out of bed.” I glance over at the stove. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes.” He sets the spatula down and turns the stove off. “Let’s go.”

“But I want the pancakes.”

“They’ll be there when we’re done.” He kisses me and walks forward, forcing me to walk backward.

“But they’ll be cold.”

“We’ll reheat them.”

“Let’s just eat and we’ll do this later.”

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