Page 104 of Silver Linings
“How did you find me here—in the park, I mean?” I could have been anywhere.
“You used to always want to see the Balto statue when you were a little girl. When you weren’t at home this morning, and didn’t answer our calls, I figured this would be the best place to start.”
I look up at my surroundings, and there he is, the magnificent Balto in all his burnished glory. I didn’t even realize this is where I settled when I stopped walking and crumpled.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the reopening party?” Nan settles a wrinkled hand on my knee.
I wipe under my eyes with the back of my sleeve, and look toward Balto. “You hate flying. I didn’t want to put you through that for a small party.”
“You’re downplaying it,” Kena says. “You’ve spent months working toward thatsmall party.” His subtle irritation puts me on edge and I can feel the urge to assuage him, rush to the surface, but Nan interrupts before I can.
“Tell me what’s going on, Bear.”
Old habits nip at my heels, begging them to dig in, to not worry my family with the heartache that’s plaguing me. But another part of me, the part that Hendrix dug out of the muck, is pleading with me to let them in—to let them see the mess I’ve been hiding behind easy smiles and professional deflection skills.
Brave.Hendrix once told me I was brave, and while even recounting the memory of that conversation makes my heart cave in on itself—I feel the urge to prove him right.
For the first time in my life, I open up and tell her everything, spilling my guts out onto the pavement at our feet.
The scent of coffee floats through the air, filling my senses as I tell Nan how Hendrix and I met. How I thought I had lost my shot, only for him to be dumped on my doorstep, a tool belt slung low around his waist. I admit to my fear of commitment, thinking everyone would just leave me in the end, but tell her how he showed up every day at six on the dot, ready to help me with coffee in hand. My eyes drift around the park, now more alive with people, and I laugh when I give her examples of some of the ridiculous questions we’d ask during our endless rounds of twenty questions. Tears form when I tell her about our first kiss, how it scared me so acutely, I needed to pull away from him, but he kept showing up, kept proving to me he cared. Nan gasps and puts a hand to her mouth when I tell her about the attack, how Hendrix made me feel safe just by being there,and in that moment I knew things would be okay. Everything changed after that, and despite my fear—I let him in—started to crave the sound of his voice, the steadying weight of his touch. I recount the weeks following our first date, how he made being in a relationship with him feel fundamental, how he eased my fears and made me feel like I was something to be cherished.
I swallow, looking down at my feet when I tell her how Mom showed up, uninvited, to the store before opening day, and it brought back every feeling I’ve had since I was eight. Worthless, a burden, never good enough for anything or anyone. But Hendrix never made me feel that way, and I just wanted to hear his voice. All I needed was to hear his deep honeyed voice telling me it would be okay, and that he was on his way. But he never answered, and then he never showed.
I don’t tell them how I’ve felt hollow ever since, like a large chunk of me is missing where my heart should be. My gaze darts around the park, not wanting to look at them after stripping bare, wishing I could stuff all the words back inside my mouth.
“Something’s not making sense to me,” Nan says, brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just the picture you painted of this man of yours… It doesn’t add up with him not showing up for you yesterday.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Kena chimes in.
“Tell that to his voicemail,” I mutter.
“No, but really,” Kena starts. “I’ve seen him with you. That man is in love with you. The way he talked about you when we were at the Brooklyn Flea made thatveryobvious.”
My heart skips a beat at his words, at the hope that blooms and then withers in my chest.
“Do you really think, after everything he’s done to show you he cares for you, he would just up and leave with no notice?” Nan asks, though she knows my answer.
“I didn’t think so, but he didn’t show and hasn’t called. What else am I supposed to assume?”
“I think you shouldn’t assume at all.”
“Nan, be realistic,” I scoff. What else am I supposed to think after yesterday?
“Honey, I know life dealt you a bad hand when you were a kid, but you have to realize there are people who would go to the ends of the Earth for you. Hendrix sounds like one of them.”
“Thank God someone said it!” Kena throws his hands in the air.
“What’s happening?”
Kena cups my hand in his, resting them on his lap. “You are my best friend, and I would do anything for you. But I know there’s a part of you that you have always kept hidden away.”
My body locks up tighter than a vault, ashamed by his observation and the truth behind it.
“I know it’s a defense mechanism you developed after your mom left, I understand. Even when it’s me, your best friend, you still feel the need to hide and put on a brave face. And that’s okay. I know you’ve let me in more than anyone else before. But sweetie, you started to let those walls down for Hendrix after a few weeks. You felt safe enough to let him see behind the curtain of the fabricated version of you the world sees. That kind of connection doesn’t happen to everyone. I know you’re scared, but don’t you think that’s something worth fighting for?”
