When The Sun Sets

12: Kiss Me Like You Want To Be Loved

Part Two | Chapter Thirteen: Kiss Me Like You Want To Be Loved

Bellefonte, Pennsylvania

July 1919

In the span of just one week at Aunt Geraldine's home, we've caused quite the ruckus. Still she shows remorse when we pack the taxi and glance at the massive house once more before turning to hug each person. The train we've decided to catch is an early morning one, too early for little Grace to stand outside fully awake, knuckling her eyes as she waits for her turn to be hugged. I hug her tightly and tell her I'll see her soon and we can read all the books we can. She smiles at the idea, and Geraldine sends her back inside to go back to sleep. I nod appreciatively at Geraldine and let myself be engulfed in a hug. During this week Geraldine has become a friend to me, despite her lack of relation to me. Her hug for Harry is shorter and more cautious, but loving nonetheless.

Regardless of the pleasantries, I feel it's my duty to step forward and apologize for the mess Harry and I have made during our stay.

"If we've disrupted you in any way," I insist, holding Jared's hands, speaking firmly. "I'm sorry. I couldn't have predicted any of it."

Jared gives me a nonchalant shrug and tells me that it's the price of marriage, but Geraldine is kinder yet more strict when she speaks to me, holding my elbow tightly and making sure I hear every syllable of her words.

"Don't you ever apologize for a man," she tells me lowly, furrowing her brows. "You are too good for him."

I shake my head and nervously check over my shoulder to see if Harry's listening or within earshot. "I rather think we're both pathetic enough for each other."

Geraldine smiles, holding a hand to my cheek. The gesture suddenly, and quite violently, reminds me of my mother, who used to hold my face like this when I'd be crying to wipe the moisture immediately after it fell from my eyes. She never tolerated weakness in the house, though on some events, weakness was the only friend I had.

"You are too good for him," Geraldine repeats, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "Be safe. Let us know you've arrived in Newport safely."

We've decided Newport is the next destination. Harry's decided it. He's told me that men in his company have raved about how beautiful of a place it is and how he must go to see it himself. It's on the East Coast and only a day's ride by train.

"I will," I promise, waving goodbye to them as I walk to the car. I sit beside Harry and wait for the rumble of the car against the pavement to remind me how far I'll be from the family soon.

Harry notices a few minutes later, cautiously peering at me. His curls are tucked behind his ears, and the way he ducks his head allows a strand to fall into his eyes. He messily pushes it away when he glances at me, waiting a moment to gauge my expression before speaking. This is progress, I think, though it's not anything more than an inch in the direction of our goal.

"Are you alright?" he asks finally.

I crack the window open a bit and nod, glancing out. "I'm going to miss them."

"Oh," Harry says, agreeing. "Me too. They're a lovely family. I do hope to visit them again soon before winter."

"Geraldine reminds me of my mother."

"Do you miss your mother?"

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. "A lot." I look back at him and study his now distant eyes. "Don't you miss yours?"

"Of course I do." He stares out the window behind me, his eyes oddly matching the color of the sky. "I miss her all the time."

"She should visit us."