Straight As A Garden Hose

Chapter 11 Part 2

(Play "When You Say Nothing At All" by Allison Krauss and Union Station)

The fireworks went off without a hitch, but I didn't really watch them. Instead, I was watching the expressions playing across Everly's face. I wasn't paying any attention to the music, or the loud bangs and flashings, or my family oohing, awing, and clapping. All of my focus was on her. At one point, she glanced at me with a wide smile, and when she noticed that I had been staring at her for a while, and still staring, she looked at me closer. Something changed in her eyes, somehow growing softer. She reached over to where I was sitting and slid her hands into mine. It felt like one of those cliche moments in a movie, which would usually make me want to gag. But this was different. So different. She seemed to read my thoughts, because in the next moment she was getting up to come sit in the same chair as me, practically sitting in my lap to fit. With her face inches from mine, not even caring that my family was right there, I caressed her cheek with my hand, moving her hair out of the way. She smiled softly and leaned in, sealing our lips together in a slow, simple kiss. It was nothing extravagant, but it was by far the most amazing kiss I've ever had, even though it was over in barely a moment. When she pulled away, I leaned forward to rest forehead on hers.

"Do you want to go to the loft?" I asked. She opened her eyes to look into mine, knowing full well my intentions. She nodded, her eyes not leaving mine, right as the last firework exploded.

"I think we're going to head to bed," I announced, helping her up and out of chair, and afterwards I got up.

"Aww, really? So soon?" Mom asked. I nodded.

"Ya, we're pretty tired. But really great fireworks Dad," I replied. A quick glance at Calvin's shit-eating grin revealed that he knew what we were really up to, but one glare sent his way and his face returned to normal.

"Ok, well, have a good night," Dad said with a wave.

"And don't forget family breakfast in the morning!" Mom called out as we started walking through the dark to the barn.

"We'll be there," I called back.

****

I hung my old flannel on the hook by the door, and we both kicked out shoes off.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked.

"Please," Everly replied as she walked over to the couch in the living room and sat down, still wrapped up in another one of my old flannel shirts I let her borrow. She looked chilly, but her eyes followed me as I got out the tea pot in the kitchen, filling it with water.

"Can I ask a personal question?" I asked as the water started to boil. She nodded.

"Why is it that sometimes your confident and so sure of yourself, and at other times, you seem quiet and nervous?"

She thought for a moment, looking down at her hands.

"Because I don't want to make any mistakes," she responded, barely over a whisper. I frowned.

"What do you mean by mistakes?" I asked, pouring the tea into the mugs. She glanced up at me as I walked into the room and set the teas down on the coffee table. She took another moment to think about what she wanted to say, and I gave her all the time she needed, patiently sitting down next to her.

"Do you remember how I said that my Dad used to be different, before my Mom got sick?" she asked. I nodded softly.

"Well, after my Mom passed away, he began drinking a lot, and he started smoking again. He never got physical with me, but he yelled a lot and broke whatever got in his way when he got worked up. Especially when I would accidentally spill something, or mention Mom," Everly said, tears starting to brim on her eyes. I brought my hand to rest on upper back, rubbing small circles to comfort her.

"He would tell and tell me how stupid and useless I was, and how it was my fault that Mom died," she continued. I raised an eyebrow.

"Why would he say that?" I asked, inching closer to wrap my arm around her shoulders. She shivered, and two tears ran silently down her cheeks.

"Because she almost died giving birth to me, and to save her the doctors had to put her on some new mediation to keep her blood pressure normal. But that medication ended up giving her cancer," she replied, staring down at her hands.

"Oh honey," I said, pulling her into my chest and wrapping my arms around her. She buried her face in my neck.

"That was never your fault baby," I whispered. "You hear me?" I asked, pulling back and whipping her tears away with my thumbs.

"That was entirely the doctors fault, not yours," I emphasized, kissing her forehead, my lips lingering there for a while, and my hands on either side of her face. She nodded after I pulled away, and sunk into my chest again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked, confused.

"I kinda ruined our possible moment," she replied, and I chuckled softly.

"No no, you didn't. I did by asking that question. It's ok though, I can wait," I replied. She pulled back and shook her head though.

"Can you play me something on your guitar?" she asked quietly. I obviously couldn't say no, so I nodded and went to fetch the guitar from the bedroom. Sitting back down, I tuned it quickly by ear, and glanced at her curled up against the arm of the couch, wrapped up in my shirt. She didn't look as sad, but still definitely not back to herself.

"Go easy on me, I'm a little rusty," I said, and she smiled softly.

(Picture this being her voice and how she played the guitar)

As I played the guitar and sang, I could tell she was starting to relax, and she ever so slowly edged closer to me. Unbeknownst to her, I chose to sing this song specifically, because it said those three little words that I didn't have the balls to say to her face. And I knew it was too soon to really say them. But I meant all three words.

By the time I finished the song, she was sitting in front of me, a smile on her face.

"Better?" I asked, setting the guitar down on the coffee table beside out untouched teas. Instead of responding with words, she sat up on her knees and connected our lips, gently pushing me against the arm rest. I was a little surprised at first, seeing how sad she was only moments ago, but that quickly faded. Her hands came up to pull me by the neck, deepening the kiss slowly. I was not complaining about where this was going, but I was also worried for her and how she was feeling, so I pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips.

"Are you sure?"

(To set the mood for the next chapter, I recommend listening to "Lips On You" by Maroon 5)