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I was in a lush rose garden at sunset, surrounded by beauty on all sides. The air was warm and sweet-smelling, and a breeze blew through my hair. I felt strong arms slide around my waist before a wider-than-average face nuzzled into my neck. “Oh Helga, my dove, nothing could make me happier than to share this moment with you. Say you’ll always be mine.” My heart was bursting. I turned around in the arms’ embrace to face their owner and spoke with great feeling: “Arnold, I love you–”
“Hm? What’s that, Helga?”
“Nothing, just mumbling nonsense in my sleep.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, quit worrying about me, Football Head.” Now I get to worry about whether or not you heard me clearly say what I hope I only mumbled . . . Arnold snaked an arm over me and went back to sleep. I tossed and turned for a few hours even though I was exhausted from a long day and our earlier activities. Arnold and I had been getting together like this a few times a week since reconnecting at a party at Rhonda’s. I was doing my best to keep it light and casual. That was how it had started, and, four months later, I was still keeping Arnold at arm’s length. I wouldn’t let him leave so much as a toothbrush at my place, and we only recently started sleeping over afterward. We were having fun, but what more could I expect?
I found myself yawning and stretching, daylight seeping in around the curtains. When did I fall back to sleep? The bed was empty and I could hear and smell breakfast and coffee being made outside the bedroom. I put on my undies and picked up one of Arnold’s t-shirts off the floor before going out to the kitchen.
“Hey there, gorgeous. Good timing. Hot sauce on your eggs?”
“You know it, Football Head.”
“Sleep well? Any interesting dreams?”
What a question. “Nope, situation fine and normal. You?”
“Uh, yeah, same.” He drizzled a zigzag across one plate and then paused, setting the bottle down on the counter and going still for a moment. What is he doing? As if he hadn’t missed a beat, he lifted the bottle, dressed the other plate and brought both over to the table. I picked up my fork and looked down. Across the omelet in front of me was written in a thin, swooping cursive line of red sauce: “coward.”
Huh? I froze. What could this mean? I looked up at Arnold, who had sat in the chair opposite mine. His eyes locked on mine.
“Helga, how do you feel about me?”
He knows. Wait, no, let’s not jump to conclusions. I can still save this, especially if I don’t give myself away with assumptions. “Well, you’re sexy and a lot of fun in bed, but you annoy me. Same as you always have.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I don't think that's all there is to this. I wanna know the truth.”
“You calling me a liar, Hair Boy?”
“I believe what you just told me. I also believe there’s more you’re not saying.” He leaned forward slightly, drumming his fingers softly against the tabletop. There was something behind his eyes I couldn’t quite identify. Smugness? Mockery? Whatever it was, it terrified me. Coward.
“Welp, don’t know what to tell ya. I can’t think of anything else.”
“Helga. I don’t totally get you. I think you’ve put a lot of effort into making sure nobody does. But don’t insult me. It’s not like I don’t know anything about you after all this time. You haven’t gotten much better at playing it cool than you were more than a decade ago. You might hold your cards close to your chest but you’ve never had much of a poker face.”
I leered across the table. “You would mention my chest, lover boy.” That’s right, old girl. Redirect. Offer a distraction. “You’ve made your feelings about it well known.”
Arnold laughed. “It’s a very nice chest! Alright, how about some tit for tat?” He winked. I rolled my eyes but snorted a laugh.
“Would it help if you heard how I feel? Some assurance that you won’t be the only one spilling your guts?” My breath caught in my throat. My eyes widened, which he had to have noticed. Did I want to know?
“I guess. I mean, I never would have taken you for the type to have much casual sex, Arnold.”
“That's just it, I'm not. I've been having a really good time with you, and not only with our clothes off. I like you a lot, Helga. Pretending like this doesn't mean anything to me, it's starting to get me down. It’s not going to be enough. I'm pretty sure I want more, a lot more. And if that's not going to work for you, then we have to stop doing this. I need to know how you feel about me. About us.”
Us? Could there be an us? One that was Arnold and me? Did I dare to hope? Old fears gripped my heart. He’d said he wanted more, but from me? He wasn’t completely sure. What if getting to see the real me made him even less so? “I–” I choked, unable to continue. My childish habit of denying his suspicions, of throwing out a snide comment or insult fought to rear its head. I was so sick of letting it win. If I couldn’t speak my heart, I was definitely going to lose him, probably for good.
Arnold reached across and picked up my hand, giving it a little squeeze. “I know you’re afraid.” No kidding. “I really hope you can find the courage to let me in. I . . . think I might be falling for you. But I can’t know either way if you keep yourself so closed off to me.”
I felt a tear spill over and down my cheek. I wanted to believe him, and his words gave me a little strength. I spoke barely above a whisper. “Arnold, I’ve done such awful things, to you and to other people who were supposed to be my friends. My impulses are so ugly at times. If I open my heart fully to you, I just don’t know what you’ll think of me.”
“Oh, Helga.” He stood and came around the table, pulling me up into a hug. “I think you’re a human with no more faults and imperfections than anyone else, and I think you’ve been way too hard on yourself for way too long. I also know you’ve done wonderful things for me and others, even when it was pretty clear it wasn’t what you really wanted to do. That counts for a lot more than you realize. Besides, lately you’ve been letting me glimpse more of the amazing things about you that I suspect you’ve always tried to keep hidden. I don’t want that to stop. I don’t want you to be ashamed of how you feel or what you care about or want.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
I rested my head on his shoulder and sniffled. “I wanna try. I want to be honest with you.”
“I know it won’t be easy, but you can let me help you figure it out. You don’t have to go it alone. And if you want to be honest, you can start by telling me what you said in your sleep last night.”
I stood bolt upright. Arnold’s eyes were full of mirth and locked on mine. The seconds stretched on until he spoke again. “If you’re really not ready–”
“Arnold, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, you have no idea.” His eyes twinkled and he laughed. Suddenly, he hitched me up into his arms and I wrapped my legs around him, laughing too. I pressed my forehead to his and he pulled my face down into a kiss. He teased my mouth open with his and pulled on my lower lip with his teeth. Panting slowly, I threaded my fingers into his hair. He sat me down on the tabletop and slowly ran his hand up under the back of my shirt. With his other hand, he had just hooked a finger under the hip seam of my underpants when my stomach grumbled loudly. “Wait, stop,” I gasped, not really wanting him to. Arnold didn’t want to either. He dropped his head onto my shoulder and groaned. I wrapped my arms around his back and laughed softly. “I won’t make you wait too long, I promise. It’s just that we haven’t refueled after last night.”
“That’s true," Arnold mumbled into my hair.
“Let me enjoy my omlette du cowárd , and I’ll be able to properly thank you for fixing me such a lovely breakfast.” He laughed at my terrible French accent and pulled me to the edge of the table where I could hop down.
“Coffee, sweetheart?” Arnold went to the cupboard to grab a pair of mugs. Sweetheart. Arnold’s sweetheart. Me. I nearly swooned.
It was so hard for me to believe it was all real for a while after that first morning, but we made each other many more breakfasts and other meals after that. They occasionally bore additional messages: beauty, strong, good luck, congratulations, buttface (I won’t lie, they weren’t all glowing), grateful, kindest, wife, Dad. I think those last two are my favorite so far.