Where I Am

We stopped long enough to eat with mom and dad.  I could see his nervousness and I felt sorry for him.  Mom and dad tried hard to include him and at the same time not put him on the spot.  They did discover that he was leaving in the fall for a college in Ohio and had a partial scholarship.  He was leaving in the fall?

Immediately my brain somersaulted off into the future plotting out everything that was going to happen between now and then with me life.  But I had to stop.  I had already done this plotting and planning and knew what was going to happen.  But that was just with me.  Was there a chance there would be someone else to consider in my life?  What would that do to my plans?  I quickly tried to fit him in and still keep the same plan.  How can I plan this when I don't have a clue what his plan is?  How can I plan his feelings?  How can I plan mine?  For crying out loud I haven't figured out my past eighteen years how am I going to figure out the next four months?

I felt sweaty and it wasn't from the painting.  I found myself laughing at dad teasing mom.  I don't know what about, but mom was smiling and so was Shawn so I did it again.  Thinking about something else and missed the part of my life I was in right now.  What can't I stay where I am!

"I guess if I want my room finished I need to drag you back up there go get busy."  Shawn rolled his eyes but jumped up readily enough.  Mom was beside herslef and I think dad was catching her fever.  I gave them both a 'calm down' look as I went past them.  I could hear them start to chatter as soon as I headed up the stairs.  In my room I turned the music a little louder but closed my door so it wouldn't bother them.

"That wasn't so bad was it?"  I laughed as he crumpled towards the tarp covered pile in the middle of the floor. 

"No, not so bad.  I'll get use to them."  We were standing fairly close and the hair on my arms and neck were standing straight up.  "If that's okay with you."

"I think so."   How do I do this?

"You think so?  Do you need more time to think about it?"

"I was afraid to speak, my throat felt very thin.  Like a sound coming out of it would burst it.

"I mean, okay, yes, I'm nervous too but Nicky I can't wait anymore to see what can happen with us.  I'm going away to school.  I have now, this summer, to get to know you.  I don't want to leave here and take a chance that someone else wants to get to know you.  I want you to get to know me."  He stopped to breath.  Very deeply.  He looked at me.  But stood still, where he was.   "Okay.  I have practiced talking to you a hundred times and they all sounded better than right now. I want to get to know you. I like you Nicky.  And I would like to spend this summer talking to you, doing things with you.  What ever you want to do.  But I want us to start right now.  Not six weeks from now."  He looked up at the ceiling.  I think he wanted me to say something but I was afraid to use any part of my body because I didn't think it would function right.

Here is a boy.  A guy.  Whatever!  And he wants to be with me.  Why?  Can't he tell?  Maybe he can't, but he will.  Then what?  How could he possibly be interested in me with everything that is wrong with me?

He took a step closer and I could feel my insides tremble.  "Nickie I don't know a whole lot about you.  But I feel like I have to promise you I won't hurt you.  I don't know why.  But it's a promise I will make to you right now and I will keep it.  Just tell me 'okay'.  Just say that and we'll go from here.  If you say anything else than I know I should let it go."

"Okay."  It popped out before I could analyze it.  Thankfully.

"Um, is that an okay because it's okay, or is that an okay I should let it go?"  I knew he was trying to be funny but he was also still nervous.  Already I knew that about him.

"Okay, you said to say okay and that's the okay I'm saying."

"Okay?"

"Okay."   His smile was one of relief.  I could tell that too.  If he was as scared and nervous as I was then I don't know how we got to where we were standing with no light between us.  I could feel the heat from his shirt and surely that was his heart pounding against my chest.  Or was it mine beating against his?  I couldn't tell who's it was.  He reached his hand to my shoulder and slid it behind my neck and in an instant I don't know where all of the heat went to.  I was clod.  A thrilling, chilling cold of anticipation.  What I feared most, was fearing his touch.  When his hand slid behind my neck there was a tinge of fear.  But his hand turned and he caressed my neck pulling his hand back out.  He slid his hand down my arm and took my hand.  Pulling my hand up between us he clasped it between his two hands and held it to his chest.  

"Part of me wants to rush everything because I want you to feel like I do Nicky. "  My forehead was a fraction of a hair's width from his chin and he nudged my forehead back with his chin so that I was looking at him.  His eyes were big, brown .... and watering.  Didn't look like tears.  He kept blinking.

"What's wrong Shawn?"  He dropped his head and smiled.  He let go of my hand and his hand went to his left eye.  

"There's something in my eye."  

"Why didn't you say something?"  I opened the bedroom door and took his hand leading him to my bathroom.  "Wash your eye out."

"I can't, I have my contacts in."  

"Take it out.  I'll get some of my mom's saline solution.  You can wash your contact off with it."  I went to mom's room and interrupted their conversation.   "Sorry, but Shawn has something in his eye, can I get your saline for him?"  Mom went to the bathroom and came back with a bottle of the clear liquid.  As I left the room I heard mom say something about me taking care of him  God she was so hopeful.  Pangs of sorrow for her found their way to my heart.

I walked in the bathroom and Shawn was standing there with his left eye shut and his right for finger sticking out.  Quickly I washed my hands and then took his contact.  While I held his contact I watched him wash out his eye which was by now red and a little puffy. I must have been watching him pretty intently, I didn't notice him watching me in the mirror until he spoke.  

"Sorry, I was trying to pretend like it didn't bother me."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to ruin the moment."  You didn't, is what I wanted to say as I held there with my hand out cradling his contact in my palm.  I suddenly realized how personal this may seem to him.  Me standing next to him in the bathroom casually holding his contact while he washed out his eye.  I couldn't help but smile one of those uncontrollable happy smiles that come over you and you can't exactly explain it.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"I don't really know.  I think it's because I don't normally stand in bathrooms with guys holding their contact and feeling comfortable about it."  He took the contact and started to wash it off with the saline.

"Feeling comfortable about what?  The guy or the contact?"  He watched me in the mirror.

"Both I guess.  Just seems kind of personal to me.  I don't usually feel this comfortable with others."  He had his head back and was putting in his contact.  He blinked a few times and then washed his hands and dried them on the hand towel I was glad I had put out fresh earlier.

He turned to look  at me direct instead of through the mirror.  "You feel comfortable wtih me?"  He didn't move to touch me but I felt like we were very intimate.

"I think so."  He grinned and crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter. 

"You think so?  I guess I'm kind of glad that you don't normally feel comfortable with others.  But it also sounds kind of sad."

I looked at him for a minute to see if he thought there was more to what he said.  I smiled thinking I could throw him off.   "Let's go to the porch for some fresh air, I think we are full of fumes."  I led the way and he followed.  I went to the kitchen first and got some water with him just following me quietly.  We made our way to the porch and sat on the swing.  With respectable distance between us I might add.  The moment in the bedroom seemed to have disappeared and I felt a little bewildered.  I wasn't sure if I was glad about that, or was I disappointed?

Slowly we let the swing go to and fro.  He pretty much controlled the swing with his longer legs.  I sat back far enough to where my feet just barely touched the porch.  My mind was a whirl with thoughts, pictures and scenarios.  In my head he kissed me a hundred different ways.  That first kiss.  Then I pictured him leaving without touching me again and I felt somewhat relieved.

"Nickie?"  For an answer I turned to look at him.  "About what I was trying to say upstairs."   He shifted on the swing to sit sideways and look at me.  "I mean what I was trying to say. I want to spend this summer with you.  And I was hoping that you might want the same thing."  His hand reached out and brushed along my forehead.   

What Is Normal? Can I Be?

I ran to the basement and gathered rollers, pans, brushes and a little foam brush to do the trim which I hoped worked because I didn't want to tape all of the trim.  I just wanted to paint it and be done.  I went back to the basement after carrying all of that upstairs and grabbed the old fan off of the shelf.  I opened all of the windows in my room and set the fan in the middle window and turned it on to suck the paint smell out of the room.

By the time Shaun got there I had the foam brush and was starting the trim around the closet door.  I ran downstairs to let him in.  He was dressed in old shorts that showed off some very tan and very well shaped legs. An old t-shirt of some baseball team that looked like it had been through a few other paint jobs.  My chest did a little flip flop when he smiled at me and then followed me upstairs.  He didn't have his glasses on so I assumed he had contacts in.  I liked how he looked with his glasses.  Without his glasses made him look much younger.  I was pretty embarrassed by the way I looked but he did ask for this.

"So you need to get this done today?"  He said as he looked in to my room.  "You're kidding, right?"  He looked around the room.  

"You don't think we can? It's 'one coat' paint."  I pointed at the can.

He just looked at me and smiled.  "We'll see, but this is a pretty big room.  And you'll be lucky if it really covers in one coat."

"I think we can do it.  Besides, I won't be able to stand it if I don't get it done."  I picked up the foam brush and the old butter container I was using as a little bucket.  "From the looks of your shirt you've done this before."  

"We just painted most of the inside of your house and I helped my older brother paint his not too long ago.  Good thing I saved my grubbies."  He gestured to his clothes.  He didn't wait for me to tell him what to do.  He took a brush and started on the trim around the windows after putting the paint can at his feet.  I really like the look of this color going on over the yellow.  The yellow was just too bright and doesn't suit me.

I looked over to watch him and he was carefully but quickly trimming the window.  He turned to look at me and smiled "I'm glad you let me come over."

"I can't say I mind the help.  And I'm glad you came over."  We started to talk and paint and neither of us stopped doing either until I heard mom come in downstairs.   I put the roller I was now using, down, and told him to come with me.  I couldn't believe it was after 4:00.  We walked in the kitchen and mom was standing there opening the mail.  I introduced mom to Shaun and could see she was thrilled.  She looked so happy I couldn't help but feel good.  I got some pop out of the refridgerator and handed one to Shaun.  The pop all but disappeared.  I didn't realize how raw my throat felt until I drank the pop and must have washed down all of the paint fumes with it.  

"I didn't know you were planning on painting your room today."

"I wouldn't say I was 'planning' on it.  But I didn't have anything else to do...."

"How does it look?"

"Pretty good, I like it."  Shaun was obviously a little shy as he stood there just grinning.  Mom picked up on it.

"I think I'll go up and look at it.  I'm going to put some shorts on and I'll go get some pizza for dinner.  That all right with you two?"

Shaun nodded.  He's parent shy!  "Sounds fine mom."  I got myself and Shaun a glass of ice water.  Mom left the room with a mom smile plastered on her face.  We sat at the table to take a break.

"I get so nervous around other people's parents."  He drank half of the water and got up to refill it at the sink. He sat back down.

"That's kind of funny.  I wouldn't have suspected you of being nervous around anyone."

"You've got to be kidding.  Why would you think that?"

"I don't know.  I guess I see you as popular, easy going, always comfortable.  Not the nervous type."  He looked at me like he was trying to figure something out.  His looking made me uncomfortable.  I drank my water taking care to look in my glass as I was drinking.

"I guess we aren't always what we seem."

"I guess not."

"Now if were to talk about you...."

"Let's not."  The water looked very interesting.

"It's nothing bad.  But I would have to say you're very studious.  Very serious, quiet.  You seem to always have a purpose."  I laughed and he grinned.  "Is that not true?"

"Well, I guess I always felt flighty.  Maybe not flighty.  But 'studious'?  I think that would be a stretch.  It seems kind of difficult for me to focus well enough to be considered studious."

"See what I mean?  I guess I can kind of see why you thought I was comfortable around others, because it's what I had to do.  Or what I did to get what I wanted.  I liked sports so obviously I had to be around others who were part of that world.  Coaches, other kids, parents.  Anyone 'new' in my life makes me nervous. You appear to be studious because you have to work harder at it.  But yeah...being around people isn't always easy for me.  They make me nervous."

"What about me?"  I had no problem looking at him while he spoke now.  His voice was gentle and he was trying to tell me things about himself.  He didnt' want that 'new' to be a problem.

"If I hadn't been so scared of meeting people, or worried about what you thought of me.  I would have asked you out two years ago."

"What??????"   He's liked me for two years????

"I swear."

"You are so kidding."

"No I'm not.  I've wanted to talk to you for two years."

"Why didn't you?"  I remember this conversation from the graduation party.

"I just told you."  Mom came downstairs and walked in just long enough to say the room looked nice and she was leaving to get pizza, tell dad she would be right back.  Shaun smiled at her and she floated out of the house.

"We better get back to work."  I headed up the stairs and he followed.  We picked up where he had left off.  Painting and talking.

With his back to me  he continued talking.   "Why don't you believe that I wanted to ask you out for two years?"

"I don't know.  I haven't had time to give it thought. I guess it's just funny to think about someone liking you for two years.  It's kind of flattering."

"Well....you're welcome."

"Well....thank you."  We looked at each other over our shoulders and I felt a very unfamiliar tingle of excitement.  But it was a good tingle.  Tingle isn't  a good word.  Thrill is more like it.

Fresh Paint Fresh Life

Breaking with tradition, or my newly self diagnosed OCD, I made my way to the kitchen in the morning before I took a shower so I could get a glass of pineapple juice.  Mom had left me a note on the table saying Shaun had called and then had called again because I hadn't returned his first call.  I took my juice upstairs  so I could get my shower and contemplate calling Shaun.  I went over and over  our conversation at the graduation party and then the party at his house.  I couldn't help but get excited that he was interested in me.  He sure was not difficult to look at either.  By the time I got out of my shower I was ready to call him, but nervous.  Okay, maybe I wasn't ready to call him.  But I kind of wanted to.

I towel dried my hair and pulled it back into a pony tail.  I dressed in denim shorts and a t-shirt with Winnie The Pooh on it.  Mom loved buying me character t-shirts.  She said it made her happy to buy happy little creatures with happy little faces.  I think it was her way to tell me to smile more.  Or maybe she just really liked these guys.

I dialed Shaun's number and got his voice mail.  I left a message for him and hung up.  I sat on the couch.  A whole day.  With nothing to do.  I laid back on the couch  and swung my feet up on the other end.  A day made for lounging.  I closed my eyes and tried to relax.  Tim was the first thing I thought of and my brain drifted right back to yesterday.  This happened to him.  I snapped up, swung my feet back down to the floor. Nope, not going there right now.  I went to the basement, didn't mom tell me she had bought that paint I had asked for-for my bedroom?  There were two gallons of new paint sitting by the shelves filled with old paint cans, tools, paint rollers and pans, electric cords, old fan, and various items I did not recognize for use but recognized because they had been there forever.

I took the paint upstairs and set it in the hallway outside of my room.  I went in my bedroom and for five seconds stared at everything.  Bookshelves, desk, dresser, televisions, all of the things I had gathered in the last 18 years that made a running history of my life.  I went back to the basement for some boxes, found only one big box and went back upstairs to start packing.

Quickly I took things from the walls and shelves that I decided I could live with packed in a box and placed in the closet.  I couldn't get rid of anything but I could live with it in there.  I turned my stereo on to my favorite station, I wanted music blaring in the room, not through little ear buds from my ipod and took my time filling the box.  The room seemed quite bare when I was done.  It was a pretty big room but still, eighteen years of stuff adds up no matter how big the room is.  While packing everything I seemed to notice more dust than I had previously noticed or even thought possible.  So back to the basement I went for a bucket and rags.  Very quickly, because I wanted to get to the painting and have it done, I wiped down the walls and the shelves where things no longer sat.  After that was finished I returned to the basement to find the tarp dad kept there for his painting projects.  I dragged it up to my room which was no small feat.

In my head I planned all of this prep work to take a matter of minutes.  By the time I shoved all of the furniture in to the middle of the room, stripped my bed and covered it with a couple of older sheets, piled everything I could UP to make the pile smaller in circumference but higher by stragetgy, a couple of hours had passed.  Now I was sweaty, dirty and hungry.  Did I want to eat?  Yes.  Did I want to get this painted and returned to order?  Yes.  Instinct was to go and go and start painting, work until I was completely finished.  I couldn't stand the clutter and disarray.  I looked at the pile of my room, in the middle of my room, looked at the walls that I would need to wash down again because they were still not clean and had the sinking feeling my little job was not so little.  I made myself stop.  I took a deep breath.  Where as all of this going.  I looked at the once green, now spotted, tarp covered pile in the center of the floor.  I had no where to rush off to.  Go eat.  Then come back and clean again.  And paint.

As I was walking in to the kitchen the house phone rang.  It was Shaun.   "Hi Nicky, you are a hard person to get hold of."

"Sorry Shaun, Tim was over yesterday and we cooked out for mom and dad and then I was talking to dad and I didn't get a chance to call."  I almost said I forgot but I didn't want him to think I had forgotten about him.  I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Tim?"  There was a question in his voice but before I had to think about answering it, which I didn't want to he went on.   "Well I was calling to see if we could get together.   Maybe go out?"

"Yes.   No."

"Am I suppose to pick which one of those answers I want?  If so, I pick yes."

He made me smile.  More.  "I pick yes, but I can't today.   Not now."

"Oh."  Not as happy as he was a second ago.

"Let me explain.  I got up and didn't have anything to do so instead of lounging around doing nothing I decided to paint my room so right now I have everything scrubbed down, pushed in the middle of the floor and covered with a tarp and I was just going to eat real quick and go back upstairs and paint my room because I want it all done and put back together tonight."  I said it all in one breath, as quickly as I could because I wanted him to hear me and believe me.  Why I thought he might think I would lie to him escaped me at the moment.

"Can you breath now?"  I could hear the happy back in his voice now.  "Sounds like a lot of fun.  Why don't I come over and help you and then we can make plans for even more fun."

"I don't think so."

Silence for a beat.  "You don't want me to come over?"

"No.  No I'm not saying that.  But that just doesn't seem right."

"Well Nicky I think it would be very right.  I would really like to see you and I think we would have a good time painting and talking.  It would be like playing cards.  Conversation sure seems easier when your doing something else."

"I would feel pretty selfish having someone I just started to get to know come over here and help me paint my room."  He didn't say anything.  He was waiting for me to just say okay.  "Okay, but you have to promise to leave if you get here and think there is no way you want to spend your day painting this room."

"I'll do that.  Well, I won't do that. But if that was how I would feel I would do that.  But it isn't."

He didn't need directions and said he would be here in less than an hour.  After I hung up I hurredly ate a bowl of cereal and went to my bathroom to see how I looked.  Criminy.  I brushed my hair out and pulled it back into a pony tail again.  I felt grimy...but hey.  I'm painting here.  I washed my face and neck and felt a little better but couldn't believe I was letting him come over to one; see me like this and two; help me paint my room.

A Dad Moment

I sat on the steps and watched him drive away.  I looked to Mary's house and saw the lights on.  I was done talking for the night.  Mom and dad must have gone upstairs because I didn't hear anything through the open front door.  I locked the door behind me when I went in and went to the kitchen for a glass of iced tea to take upstairs with me.  Dad was sitting at the kitchen table reading part of the day's paper and eating a bowl of ice cream.

"Hey dad."

""Hey."  He put his paper down and watched me get a glass put ice in it and fill it with tea from the pitcher in the refrigerator.  I felt him watching me and couldn't help but smile.

"Why are you watching me?"

"I don't know.  Mind tricks maybe."

"Huh?"  I sat at the table across from him.

"I could see you fifteen years ago not being able to pour kool-aid from a pitcher, but there you are now, all grown up.  Pouring your own tea.  Funny...."  he looked back at his paper instead of at me "...how and when we see our kids grown up.  It wasn't your graduation.  It was you pouring a glass of tea."

"If it makes you feel any better I'm not all grown up."

"That's funny, sometimes I feel like you grew up years ago."  I felt sorry for him.  Again I felt like I robbed him of being a father.  A daddy.

"Oh dad."  I didn't know what to say.

"But then there are times when I feel like you're so young, innocent."

"What times?"  I was curious as to when dad saw me as young.  I wish I could see myself through his eyes.  I did not want to be a disappointment to him.

"Well, like when you get an unexpected present.  Or sometimes I see you reading a book and looking so young and absorbed in the fantasy of literature.  Even tonight, with this Tim.  I know he isn't a boyfriend but you were so young with him around.  I don't know.  I can't really explain it."  He shook his head with an embarrassed grin and looked at the paper again.  My heart was aching for him.   And me.

"You don't have to explain it. Maybe it's one of those things I'll understand when I have my own children."

"That's what it is."  He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine.  "Sometimes you just have such a sadness about you Nicky.  Maybe you are what they call 'an old soul'.  I hope that's what it is is.  I would hate to think you feel old because of me."

I placed my other hand on top of his.  "Dad you have never made me feel old anything.  You've always been a great dad."  Don't cry dad.   He didn't.  He smiled.

"Maybe I just needed to hear that."

"Maybe I should have told you more often."  He gave my hand a slight squeeze and sat back, withdrawing his warm hand.  

"You shouldn't have had to.  I was just having a melancholy moment when you came in.  Sometimes you just can't escape those."  He smiled and noticeably relaxed.  I sat there with him for awhile until we both were ready to go upstairs.  A dad  moment.  I could feel the pressure of his hand on mine until I went to sleep.  And it was a comforting feeling.

It Will Change Others

"You've only told one person?  Mary?"  I nodded.  "Your parents don't know?"   I shook my head no.  "Are you going to tell them?"

I picked up a small rock off of the pavement and studied it's texture and shape.   "No."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason you didn't want to and the same reasons you wished you hadn't.  I don't think I could handle the way it would change their lives forever."

"Nickie, you should tell them."

"Of all people you should understand why I don't.  Please don't try to convince me that I should do that."

"It's not that I want to convince you to do something you don't want to do.  Are you prepared to keep this a secret from your parents forever?  Do you think you can do that and not let it come between you?"

"I have so far."

"You don't think this has come between you?"  The small rock wasn't big enough to hid much mystery.  I felt it's sharp edge as I pushed it into the tip of my finger.

"Maybe, but I would rather it come between us like this than risk my father feeling the way your's does.  I don't want to see this eat at them and change who they are.  It would effect them too much.  It's like you said.  I can deal with what happened to me a lot better than what it would do to them."

"Nickie, that's talk.  I meant it but I also know that I had to tell them."   I didn't respond.   I didn't want to go through this with him.  He knew that.  "Okay...anyway... besides that.  How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

"That's a pretty non descript description."  He bent his head close to look at me.  I was done with the tears.  What a weak moment and I hate being weak.  I hate being needy.

"Tim I don't know how to describe how I am.  A lot of the things you said tonight was like you were taking the words right from my own thoughts.  I understood what you meant.  But I never thought or believed anyone else ever had those thoughts."

"More than you know.  I use to think that there was no way in hell anyone could understand how I felt.  But there are people who do."

"Honestly Tim I still feel that way.  You said a lot of the things  that I've felt for years.  But I still don't think or believe there is anyone who could possibly have a clue to who I am and what I feel or think.  I am NOT like anyone else.  This doesn't make me common to anyone.  I don't want to belong to a group where this is what we share and what keeps us together.  It is NOT who I am.  It happened to me.  And that's where I want it to end."  There was an anger starting to rock inside of me.  Not at Tim but at the idea that this made me like others that I didn't want to be associated with.  People who's commonality is what was done to them, not by choices they made.

"All right.  I'm not going to argue with you Nicky.   You don't think anyone can understand you.  I respect that.  I also repsect that you don't want this to be the guiding force in your life.  But I am glad that you told me and I want you to know that you are the same person to me that you were before you told me.  I won't think of you as 'Nicky the girl who was molested'.  I'll think of you as 'Nicky the girl I got to know my senior year through a girl I dated and we became friends and the girl I dated broke up with me and we stayed friends'."   He smiled, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Good, because that's who I feel like.  And I'm pretty content with that."   I stood up in the street.  "Let's head back to the house."  We walked across the street and quietly made our way to his car parked in front of our house.  He opened his car door and slid behind the wheel.  I closed the door for him and he smiled.  There didn't seem to be much more to say tonight.  We said good night and he left.