The beginning of everything else

The Walking Dead

We had carried on talking for about another hour, and for the rest of that time the topics remained fairly light, having agreed to leave the more delicate items until we could actually be together. Each day there would be a back and forth of messages until the evening, when I waited until 10pm my time to give her a call. There were a handful of topics that made one or both of us emotional, but they weren't contentious - just the acknowledgment that despite the distance, we had been constantly on each other's minds.  

Like the evening that we watched "The Walking Dead" together over skype, after I admitted that I had watched every episode the night that it aired even though I hated it, because I knew that somewhere she would be doing the same. Or when she was telling me about how she had named one of the characters "Flynn" in a game she had designed as a silent thank you for pushing her to search for her passion. 

We were both starting to become more and more confident in this second chance. I found myself less hesitant in opening up, and she had stopped feeling that she needed to check if I was "sure about this" by the time our conversation ended on Wednesday night. Neither of us had uttered "those three little words" yet, but that was OK, I wanted her in my arms when I said it, when she could see how much I meant it.

Mom was over the moon of course. I had called her to check that it was OK to stay over. Elle and I had agreed to take it one step at a time, and it seemed imminently more sensible to stay at my parents and not a hotel. I got to their house late on Friday night, and was glad to be home. It was amazing what could change in a week, to go from feeling like I was invading a space that was now more Elle's than mine, to Boston feeling so utterly temporary. 

My Dad was watching some documentary when I got home, with my Mom curled up next to him, looking at something on her iPad with her legs resting on his lap. They were still very much in love after nearly 30 years of marriage, and I know their example was something I hoped I could emulate one day myself.

On hearing my footsteps, Mom looked up with a smile, resting the tablet on the coffee table, and meeting me at the door to the kitchen with a hug. "How's my baby boy doing, what are your plans for tomorrow, are you hungry?" she quizzed as she started to plate up some leftover chili without waiting for a reply. Digging into the food, as she handed me a beer and started to wipe down the island that I was sitting at, I found myself grinning at how expertly she had always wrangled the three of us. If she wanted one of the Flynn men to sit down and talk, you found yourself doing it before you even noticed what had happened.

"I'm good Ma" I assured her, pointing at the food and nodding enthusiastically to let her know that it was delicious, "Glad to be back. We're meeting here in the morning and taking the bikes out for a ride. I'm thinking I'll get up early tomorrow and go to the store, make a picnic. We always liked the beach at La Conchita, and it's quiet, It'll give us a chance to catch up"

"When you say you're glad to be back, does that mean you've decided between the job offers, or do you just mean this weekend?" She asks, hope evident in her eyes as she abandons the pretense of her fake cleaning mission.

I don't really want to get into this with other people before Elle, but this is my Mom, and I'm useless at keeping things from her when she asks a direct question anyway, so I might as well talk. "It's something I want to talk through with Elle before we make a decision, I'm hoping that she will want me to, but I think that it has to be something that we decide together." She pulls up a chair, encouraging me on.

"She told me that she wished that we talked about it, the break up I mean, instead of me making a decision by myself. She feels like we didn't need to break up, maybe just given each other some space for a while. I'm not sure if I agree, I told her that I didn't think that I could have stayed away, but I don't disagree that I should have talked to her first, even if the decision had been the same. I just want to get it right this time, and this affects her too, so..."

It's the look of pride in my Mom's eyes that lets me know that she agrees wholeheartedly, "I know you do honey, and for what it's worth, I think you will get it right", she says as she gives me a one-armed hug before walking back to the couch and my dad, "Check the Fridge before you go to bed by the way, I think there are some things in there that you and Elle might like, could save you an early morning trip".

Dusting off my helmet, I am standing next to the garage, waiting for Elle to arrive. The some things that my Mom had mentioned was a full picnic of all of Elle's favorite food, yeah, if I hadn't already guessed, this would be proof that she was 100% behind this. I had text Elle last night to tell her to plan for the beach, the bike is packed, and I have spent far too long this morning in front of the mirror and choosing an outfit. 

I hear her before I see her, the throaty purr of an engine similar to mine. She turns into the driveway and I see her grin as she kicks the bike's stand out, and dismounts. She is wearing jeans and the leather jacket that I bought for her the summer before I went to Harvard, and if it wasn't for the new shorter haircut, I could have been looking at the same Shelly from all of those years ago.

"So, are we ready then?" she asks as she walks over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and snuggling into my chest. I respond instantly, my arms around her shoulders and resting my chin on top of her head. It's a familiar position, and one I am delighted we seem to have resumed so naturally. It takes a while to remember that she spoke. I think I could stand here like this all day, "Ummm, yeah" I reply as she starts to unwrap herself from me and walks back to her bike.

As we head out, I'm surprised by the sight of Elle on her bike. Not that I didn't think she could, I knew that she used to ride my bike back from the airport whenever I headed back to Harvard, but I had never properly seen it I now realize. Sure, I was there as she learned to ride. I had made sure that she was safe and competent - I never would have handed over my keys if she wasn't - but that had always been in parking lots, and then local city streets with me driving my car just behind her. This was different, this was Shelly on the coastal road, opening the bike up and letting it roar. She had progressed from riding a bike to get from A to B, to doing so for enjoyment. 

I had suggested this ride because it had been something that she mentioned that gave me an excuse to suggest we meet up, but there had been a part of me that regretted that her arms wouldn't be wrapped around me, her laughter wouldn't tickle my ear. Now though, giggling as she overtakes me on the road sweeping around the coast, I am again struck by how attractive this new older, more confident version of Elle is, and as much as I will always enjoy Elle riding pillion behind me, I think I can safely say that biker-chick Elle is my new favorite part of riding a motorcycle.