Embracing You, Embracing Me (30 page)

My head snapped around. “Wedding?”

Nico looked completely unruffled by my
response. “Well, yeah. I want to make it official so that we can give Marissa a
brother or sister,” he said.

I sat up and leaned against the headboard,
clutching the covers over my chest in a defensive posture. “Oh, you do, do you?
Well, I don’t recall saying that I would marry you,” I huffed. Too fast. This
was all too fast.

“Well…? Will you?” he asked.

I stammered a few times before harshly
clamping my mouth shut, disgusted that I didn’t know how to handle the
situation, or my anxiety. I crossed my arms over my chest and sat there
stubbornly, refusing to engage in the conversation that had progressed beyond
my ability to handle maturely.

Nico sighed and sat up to face me full on.
“Look, Roshell. You finally tell me that you love me, and I want to take the
next step. That’s just how I am. I know you are scared and I’m not the most
romantic guy in the world, but I love you and Marissa, and I have always wanted
a family.

“My mom and dad have been together since
they were in their early twenties. They always put family first and had strong
moral values as they raised us kids. I grew up knowing that a solid family unit
was the most important thing and I intend to have it. I want to have it with
you.”

I took in a deep and shaky breath, feeling
weak with his statement. “But what if I screw it up?” I asked meekly.

Nico continued to hold my gaze with an
intensity that was difficult to meet, “Don’t,” was all he said.

I just shook my head, looking down at my
hands as I rubbed the edge of the blanket. Was it really that easy? Could I
just simply move on? All of my life I had been chugging along, living
unconsciously, making decisions without taking even a minute to question the
motivations. It had taken me years to even realize those patterns, those
quirks, those failings, but now that I was aware, could I really just stop?
Realizing something was one thing, stopping the pattern was another.

“I don’t know, Nico. I’m just not sure I’m
ready,” I said.

Nico’s look of patience and love shifted to
staunch determination. He slid out of the bed and into his boxer briefs. “You
know what, Roshell, I understand a lot about your past and how it has affected
you up until now.

“What I don’t understand is why you can’t
move past it. I don’t like feeling like there is some dead guy standing in
between the two of us all the time. I think I have been fairly understanding so
far, but I want you to decide if you can have a future with me. With ME! Do you
get that? Not me standing in the shadow of him. Just me! I deserve that.
Marissa deserves that. And you deserve that. You’re going to have to examine
some things and decide if you want to live with me in the future, or if you’re
going to live with a ghost in the past.

“You can’t have both. At least not with me
you can’t,” and with that he walked out of the bedroom and made a bed on the
living room couch.

The tears came in a flux and a haze. I flung
myself into the pillows and wept until I was exhausted and drifted into a
fitful sleep.

NICO:
The next morning, I could actually feel Roshell’s apprehension as
she slowly approached me while I was making coffee in the kitchen.

I glanced over my shoulder, taking in how
she stood awkwardly with one foot propped on top of the other, and could see
her gathering the nerve to get whatever she had to say off her chest.

“Look, I thought about what you said last
night, and you are right,” she said. “I do want to let go of the past. I have
to figure out what exactly that means, and then I will decide what kind of a
future I can commit to.”

My attitude was nonchalant as I snagged a
skillet out of the bottom cupboard, next to the stove. “Okay.”

But I realized that maybe nonchalant was
too “me.” I always try to act like things don’t really matter to me when in
fact they do and it usually doesn’t end up well. I changed my tone to let her
know that I was serious and that she did matter. Because she does.

“I love you, Roshell, and I want to be with
you.

I won’t wait forever, though.”

The point had been made so I switched
topics and asked if she had arranged for Marissa to go to her other dad’s house
for the upcoming weekend.

We had been planning a camping trip up to
Lake Quinault for weeks, for just the two of us, and it occurred to me that we
could be reaching a point in our relationship where we are at a “make it or
break it” crossroads. I’m betting the odds that we make it.

I took Friday off so we could pack
up the truck and head up to the lake early in the day to set up camp, leaving
our evening free to do as we pleased.

We are well overdue for an escape from the
hectic pace of work and everyday life, if even for only a couple of days. Our
relationship is in desperate need of the reprieve as well, since we seem to
have settled into a regimented routine that facilitates our ability to keep our
lives running in a fluid and smooth manner, but we have completely abandoned
the more personal aspects of being a couple.

I am well aware that I’m putting a bit of
pressure on Roshell. But I’m eight years older than her and don’t feel like
dawdling around waiting for her to come to terms with her own ideas for the future.

Although I can show extreme patience, it is
not a skill that I came by naturally. I tend to see matters from a logical
perspective rather than from an emotional one, which is ironically one of the
things that drives Roshell crazy the most.

While she tends to operate and make choices
based on feelings and intuition, then later tries to apply reason, I often
question her motives from a more linear way of thinking and challenge her to
think of the possible consequences before taking action, rather than after the
fact. These opposing differences lead to many heated arguments, with Roshell
ranting as to how my logic, while often valid, sometimes destroys the entire
meaning of something.

I take offense to this of course, but have
to admit that I can see her point at times.

Fortunately, after each altercation, when
we’ve both had time to settle down and mull over the argument with some
clarity, we often see the others point of view and make amends.

It’s this vital characteristic that
convinced me that we were an ideal pair. We have similar moral and ethical values.
I know we would be a dynamic pair in raising a family, and have developed a
mutual respect and friendship.

But more importantly, our differences are
just as crucial to the relationship, because those are the things that we
continually challenge each other with. Each of us is level-headed enough to
take a step back and realize the other’s position once we’ve cooled off. It is
during those moments, that we find our own individual growth.

Calling each other on our own bullshit, and
daring the other to rise to the occasion, is our motivation. We motivate one
another to change, to build, to mature.

We both have a choice. We can choose the
easy path and turn away, never looking back, or we can stand face to face,
taking on the demons reflected in the others eyes, choosing the more difficult
but ultimately more rewarding path.

I have already chosen my path. Now, Roshell
must choose hers.

I stepped out of the black Ford Ranger and
took a deep cleansing breath of the mountain air. There were evergreens
standing tall and majestic all around and the sky shone a brilliant blue above,
without a cloud to be seen.

The campground was small and a short
walking distance from the parking area, with only about eight sites which were
widely spread out along the rocky shore of the small, smooth lake.

We gathered our camping gear and hiked to
the first site, noting that it was the most secluded of all. I plopped my
backpack down on the hard packed dirt, and stared across the lake at the small
but beautiful lodge that was nestled on the far side at the edge of the tree
line. The lodge was known for its plush surroundings and excellent service, but
as I stood so close to nature and felt part of it, I couldn’t help but think,
that we had the better of the choices.

With my family’s financial status, our
childhood vacations had been simple. We couldn’t afford fancy resorts or trips
abroad, so we always filled our summers with plenty of camping trips.

As a young girl I had learned to appreciate
the calm that came with even a small period of time spent in introspection with
nature. I would often wander off from camp, seeking a spot where I could shed
the trappings of the material world and allow the forest, the wind and the
trees to whisper into my soul, reminding me that I was part of something so
much greater.  

Clearing my thoughts, I joined Nico as he
began the chore of setting up the tent. I assumed the supervisory position,
standing back and calling out orders on how to go about what to him was
probably a simple feat.

“Hey, babe.” he called out. “I think I got
this. Why don’t you go gather fire wood?”

I squinted my eyes and pondered whether I
should be insulted by his dismissal. He was trying to tell me as nicely as
possible to ‘buzz off.’ I decided to give him a break and agreed to do my own
set of chores.

Once camp was set and I had gathered a
sufficient pile of firewood, we decided to walk one of the trails around the
lake. Speaking in hushed tones we visited about our week, enjoying the way the
surroundings settled around us. We were surprised how few other campers were
there, but glad because it added to the feeling of tranquility and isolation.

That evening I cooked hamburgers and baked
beans over the fire then tromped down to the lake shore to rinse out the cooking
pans and utensils.

Kneeling in the gravel shoreline with my
hands in the icy water I listened to the music of my surroundings. The crickets
and frogs were singing and chirping as dusk settled. The small waves of the
lake waters lapped at the rocky shore, while mosquitoes buzzed as they hovered
above the lake. The last calls of the birds as they settled in for the evening
and the distant hoot of an owl as he awakened for his nightly hunt called out
to me.

I sat back on my heels and took it all in.
Nico crouched down by my side and wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. We
sat comfortably, unhindered by time or responsibilities, and quietly watched
the sun go down.

I wasn’t sure if it was the fresh air, the
walk we had taken, or simply the fact that I had actually let go of some stress
and let nature work its magic, but by nine-thirty I was completely exhausted.
We sat in folding lawn chairs around the crackling fire, engrossed in its dance
of golden hues, and my head nodded forward as I fought off sleep.

Nico spread out the logs, so that the
flames died down to only a few red embers, and stood next to my chair. He gave
me a light poke in the arm. “Come on sleepy head, let’s get you tucked in for
the night.”

I moaned sleepily then reached out and grasped
his palm, allowing him to gently pull me to my feet. We crawled into the small,
four-person tent, and kicked off our shoes just inside the opening.

Lethargic, I changed out of my jeans and
into a pair of clean sweats and a long sleeved shirt to fend off the cold night
air. Nico zipped up the tent. I climbed into the slippery cool sleeping bag and
snuggled down falling asleep almost immediately after Nico slipped in beside me
and wrapped his arm around my waist.  

At first my sleep was heavy. It was a solid
weight that enveloped my person and allowed my mind to find peace from thoughts
and doubts. But as the night progressed into the more primal hours of darkness,
I began to dream.

I was walking through a crowd of people in
what seemed to be a fair of some kind as it felt festive. I sensed that I was
searching for someone, but no matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t remember
exactly who. There was noise and laughter as children squealed with delight,
and I waded through the sea of people anxious to recall just whom I was
searching for.

Then in the distance I spotted Darren. He
was talking with a group of friends, just on the outskirts of the crowd of
people. My brain registered that this is whom I must be in search of. I ran
toward him, suddenly thrilled.

As I approached, I could hear Darren’s
laughter as he did what he did so well: telling humorous stories for anyone
willing to listen. There was a small group of friends gathered in a circle,
sharing his exuberant story, some of whom I recognized.

Just before I spoke to draw their
attention, the group dispersed and spread out. Then a form stepped out from
behind Darren.

My step faltered and my heart plummeted to
the ground beneath my feet. I recognized Gabriel’s brilliant white smile and
baby blue eyes as they bore into my soul.

My body began to tremor and shake, and my
knees buckled, as my mind tried to grasp the vision standing before me. I ran
forward and flung myself into Gabriel’s arms, afraid that he might disappear.
His warm, strong arms enveloped me and the familiar feel of him was suddenly
too much to bear. I started to weep terrible, heart breaking sobs.