Chapter Fifty Five, loves, not going to say much else except for the author's note of course!(:
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Sunday morning, I parted from the Mathers household with a long, hard kiss from Marshall, two shy pecks on the cheek from Hailie and Laney, and a squeezing embrace from Whitney. It was almost as if they were my new family; new individuals I'd unexpectedly become connected to over the past few months after the loss of literally the direct only relative I had recently heard from. It was nice to be accepted. My only wish, a greedy one at that, was that I had grown up the way they had. Of course they'd had difficulties as well, and they'd struggled with some unfair matters no youth should have to deal with at that age, but what mattered was Marshall loved them and he loved him in the morning and he loved them in the nights and he'd loved them since the first day they'd came into his life. The way he acted towards his daughters subliminally reminded me of my own father, and that made me love him more.
We didn't talk about that day in the car or the night before we went to sleep when he confronted me about it; it was as if I'd never confessed my love. And I was more okay with that than I thought I'd be. Looking back on our blossoming relationship, I had so wearily pursued confessing my love to him, and now that it was said and done, I felt nearly no difference. Maybe I was confused, but that was okay.
I didn't think about Marshall much as I drove home, showered, changed, ate, and made a visit to the hospital. From Dane's nurse and himself, I heard that Dane was to be discharged shortly, and upon finding Demario's hospital room empty, I discovered from a staff member that he'd already been discharged. His positive attitude and well-treated injuries had worked on his side to get him away from the horrid hospital food as fast as possible. Dev, however, was still in his bed. He was expected to be released Tuesday, but that depended on how healthy he was on judgement day. Luna was there as usual, and the three of us sat together in a small formation of sorts, smiling and laughing like old times. Dev was in a good mood, his pill dosages had been lowered because of how his body was working to repair him, and he was able to stay up for a good six hours before the nurse came in and asked us politely to leave, it was his nap time of sorts. We agreed naturally, and I watched Luna's eyes linger on Dev's own smoldering ones. I wondered if me and Marshall had looked at each other like that once, or if we still even did.
Down in the cafeteria as we stood next to each other blending sugar and half-and-half into our black coffee was when I brought up the topic I knew she'd want to hear about.
"So guess what?" I started, stirring my beverage slowly and watching the coloration mutate slowly.
"What?"
"I said I love you to him."
Her head snapped up, lips in a wide, expectant grin, face almost impish. "And?!" she demanded.
"He didn't say it back."
Her eyes scanned my face, stupefied. "And...you're okay with that?"
My calm manner must've thrown her off, considering how much I'd wanted it only a month or two ago.
"Yeah. I understand now. I didn't understand then, but now I do. He doesn't have to love me for me to love him."
She seemed impressed, and satisfied, she lifted a thin eyebrow curiously. "You know though, you can never tell what's going through a guy's head. A lot of them are scared of commitment. I'm sure you'll get there one day. You two are a beautiful couple." And she gave me a genuine smile. It was ths happiest I'd seen her in almost a week. Her pink and lightly glossed lips curled back over her white, straight teeth, a warm chuckle coming from the depths of her throat. It was such a youthful and rare smile, I couldn't keep my eyes off her lifted mouth. I couldn't think of the last time someone had gazed at my mouth as fondly as I was doing to her now.
"Thank you," was what I said.
Her shoulder bumped up against mine, at first I thought maybe by accident, but the nudge was playfully rough.
"He'll never love you as much as I do," she teased.
"I could believe it," I smirked back.
We took a seat at a nearby deserted table, sipping on coffee as she interestedly questioned about the whole incident. I told her everything, and her eyes were shining.
"Oh well. We still hope for the best," she replied, a little out of context. It was a strange answer, but I thought nothing of it. After about another hour, we parted ways. I went home and she went to her own house. Sitting at home was something I didn't mind on most days, but today was not one of those days. After replying to a short text from Marshall, I decided to do something spontaneous I'd been thinking about for a while.
Heading to the mall with a wad of cash stuffed in my purse, I walked into the nearest store I found that sold and advertised Nikes in their glass windows. A heavily tattooed young man approached me immediately, toying with a lanyard hanging from his basketball shorts.
"Hey, welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?" he offered courteously.
"Um, yes. I'm looking for a pair of these." I had brought a picture of the newest pair of Nikes I'd seen Marshall wearing, and to cover up a hint to my true identity, I'd printed out the picture then cut out all else save for the shoes.
He easily identified them. "Oh, ya mean the Air Max '11's? Right over here." He began towards a section of shoes and I trailed after him. I'd never purchased a pair of Nikes before, but it was damn time I did.
"Is this what you like?" he asked, holding up the exact replica of the shoe I'd seen Marshall wearing.
"Yes," I responded.
"Can I grab your size? What size is you?"
"Seven," I answered, and waited patiently until he returned with a box out of the stockroom. Asking me to take a seat, he carefully slipped the shoes onto my feet, tightened the laces, and pressed around with his fingers to assure it was a tight fit.
"Feels good?" he wondered.
"Yeah."
He led me to the register, and rang up the box of shoes. I felt incredibly out of place with my nude ballet flats, baby pink cashmere sweater, and jeans, compared to all the men and women already in Nikes and inspiring Nike shirts. I had pretended not to notice the eying the employee was giving me.
"That'll be a hundred forty nine and fifty cents."
I was stunned at the price, but didn't miss a beat as I pulled out exactly the same amount of money that I needed and handed it to the young man. I had to remind myself that Marshall could easily afford such lavish spending opportunities, because he'd worked hard and landed himself in the right place. With luck, I would too.
After the man had bagged my purchase and thanked me sincerely with a crooked grin, I walked out and headed back to my home. I said nothing about it to Marshall, who I wanted to show in person, and when he phoned me that night before he went to bed, I made no mention of it. I felt a sly sort of pleasure slinking through my stomach as he hung up after we were done, and I anticipated what his reaction would be.
Monday came and went at work, and it was one of those days I would have thought to be unextraordinary. What happened proved me wrong. After work, I tiredly made my way to a grocery market in order to shop for a few household necessities. In the same isle as I was standing in, a small toddler boy was waddling about, cradling a hard, chewed book to his chest, and hollering his A, B, C's. It was something I saw often, especially with young mothers in Warren, so I paid no heed and kindly stepped out of his and his mother's way when they went to pass me. But the small boy accidentally knocked himself into my leg, fell to the ground and began to cry. Helplessly and guiltily, I crouched down beside him, a roll of paper towels under my arm, and I handed his fallen book back to him. The tears wouldn't stop, so I did the only thing I knew how to do in a situation like that.
"A, B, C, D, E, F, G," I sang softly, so he would have to mute his tears and listen. He paused interestedly, and his enormous brown eyes met with mine. They were just like Marshall's eyes, I noticed. Not in color, not in texture, but in the same puzzled emotion they held. I was intrigued, and so was he.
His mother glanced over at us, seemingly carelessly, and I continued on as I was doing before.
"Come on, sing with me," I tried to encourage as I watched the corners of the little boy's lips curl downwards, as if he was about to break down sobbing. He hesitated, lifting his tiny fingers to his mouth and slipping them inside.
"H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P," I continued on, examining him. He was no longer crying, but not speaking either. I stared at his baby soft skin, and couldn't help but wonder how much his mother loved him.
Then I heard a small, thin voice, as if the speaker was afraid.
"Q, R, S," the little boy mumbled.
I stared at him, then gathered myself and continued on, so to show him there was nothing to be scared of. We finished the alphabet together, and through his adorably minuscule little nose, I heard him breathing, and I finally piped up again, rising back to my feet. I'd stayed crouched for so long, with the pressure on my knees that they had almost cramped in a way, and it took a few steps to shake off the painful feeling.
"Better now?" I asked warmly, with a smile. His mother turned to us again, over her shoulder, and gave me a sort of discreet sneer, as if that was my payment for dealing so patiently with her child, which was in all reality, her own damn duty.
"Come on, Wyatt," his mother ordered, and she bent a little to fasten a death grip on his clenched little fist. Before she led him away as civilly as she could in public, I thought I heard him whisper a "yeah".
And it was probably one of the most spontaneous moments of my life thus far, and one of the most saddening, but in that moment in time, it struck me, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. All these years I'd been working, managing my best and juggling money and bills left and right, I never knew what I was working towards. I never had a job firmly set in my mind. The future was simply known as the future. I had thought it would come when it would, and I hadn't figured out college selection or anything of the sorts. Ever since high school, first and foremost, I craved to be successful. I had never planned out anything after success. What even qualified as success?
And as strange and unexpected it was when it happened, I knew. I realized then and there right in the middle of a grocery store isle I wanted to be a teacher. I'd never lingered on the thought of becoming a teacher, but perhaps it was because I had never noticed how awkwardly but well I communicated with children of all ages. Maybe that was also why I longed for a few children of my own one day, after a job, marriage, and bills had been settled. I shook my head, as if in a daze, and absently walled over to the check out line, where I kept an eye out for any sign of the little boy. None came, and I left, my arms and knees tingling.
Marshall and I talked later on that day, but I wasn't sure if it was one of those things I should share casually over the phone. I held onto the bit of information and thought about it hard, as if to test myself and the sudden decision. The conversation Monday night was just as pleasantly surprising as Monday itself had been. Before hanging up with his usual kiss, Marshall lowered his voice into the telephone, and I could almost imagine his chiseled face, lips in a knowing and playful smirk as he spoke.
"Listen, Dri. Tomorrow be ready right after work," he instructed. "I'm going to take you out."
"Where?" I wondered, biting my lip and grinning.
He chuckled. "Never mind that. Just be ready. I'm coming around five."
"What do I wear?"
"Anything," he replied, and I knew exactly what I was to wear. The Nikes were still in their box and beckoning my name. It was the perfect chance to startle him in a good way.
"What do I bring?"
"Your phone, if you like. But just bring yourself. That's all I really need."
"You're not going to tell me where we're going, huh?" I realized, sighing in pretend annoyance.
"Nope. It's a surprise."
Nostalgia took me back to the first time he'd stated that sentence, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth on my front steps like the first few times we'd met and our conversation had lingered thirstily. I smiled, to myself.
"Then I have a surprise for you."
"Oh really?"
"Yup. I think you'll like it a lot." I thought about the fashionable matching shoes and how we would look as a couple on our eventual outing. My heart leaped a little bit.
"I know I'll like it a lot baby. I have to go now, Whitney wants a bedtime story. But I can't wait to see you and can't wait to be with you," he whispered intimately. My cheeks began to flush even though we were more than a few miles apart.
"Me too," I got out breathlessly.
After some time spent debating who should hang up first, we both let the phones click and fall and continued on with the rest of out lives until our eyelids grew heavy and weighted. He shot me a quick good night text, but by the time I had crawled in bed with a mug of steaming green tea, I was so exhausted, I hadn't even taken a sip yet of the tea when I shut my eyes and drifted off.
Tuesday at work felt good to work. Now that I knew what I was working towards. My decision had stuck, but I was still testing it, curious to see how long exactly it would last, and so far it had remained untainted. Tuesday afternoon couldn't come fast enough, however, and as cheery as I was, I was in a rush to get home when dismissed. Marshall's surprises never failed to surprise and excite me, and I wanted this meager little surprise of mine to do the same for him. It was something he'd spoken about for a long while, but other plans and higher priorities always kept us busy.
It was four fifteen when I got home, and hurriedly I dumped my belongings on my bed as I tore off my clothes and wore something more comfortable and "Marshall looking" with a feminine twist: skinny jeans, a black hoodie, and the Nikes we now both owned. Tying back my straightened hair from the morning into a ponytail and fluffing my bangs, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and admired how different I looked from my usual girly appearance. My time with Marshall had most definitely taken it's toll, because before him, I'd barely even noticed the way certain individuals dressed.
I was fixing and touching up my eyeshadow meticulously when a sturdy knock came upon the door and I gasped, heart racing. Dashing to the door and making sure my Nikes and myself looked presentable, I tugged open the door to come face to face with Marshall. His eyes landed on me and before he could even open his mouth, I gave a little hop and greeted him.
"Ta-da!" I presented loudly, as his eyes roamed down and then grew bigger as he blinked rapidly, mouth curling into a bemused grin.
"Adrienne," he laughed, a throaty, hearty laugh that was like the one I'd imagined in my head when I played through the scenario like a movie of sorts. "Look at you!"
"Me, I'm looking at you!" I laughed, echoing him as I noticed he coincidentally had on the exact same pair of shoes and a similar shade of jeans. His hoodie was a zip up as always, and like usual, it was a dark grey.
He stepped to me and embraced me with such firmness, our torsos were crushed together and my ribs were screaming in delight. I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him as I felt his chest rise and fall rapidly. I had never seen him this gleeful before, and it was refreshing, coming from a man who rarely cracked a smile in public.
"Baby, when I was talking about Nikes, I didn't mean you'd go out and buy yourself some. I was talkin' it'd be my treat," he murmured into my hair, and I felt the vibrations of his soft lips and deep voice.
"It's a little late for that now."
Slowly, he released me, pecking me on the cheek as he gave me another full look, up and down. His cheeks began to flush as he realized and maybe regretted how fluidly he'd moved and grabbed me out of excitement, but he said nothing concerning it. Clearing his throat professionally, he smiled.
"You look beautiful."
I gazed up at him. His eyes were glistening brilliance, the color of the pool water our bodies had first melted together in. "Do you like it?" I couldn't help but ask.
He couldn't move his eyes from me too long. "I like it a lot. I love it."
"Do you...like me better this way?"
He took in breath and his intense eyes remained on me. "I like you every which way you've been. You never have to change to please me. You didn't even have to do this if you didn't want to, but you did and it was an amazing surprise. Thank you, baby. Now we're that matching couple you were talking about."
I beamed. "You're welcome."
"It's time for your surprise now. I hope you'll like it as much as I liked yours. We should get going."
"Alright."
Making sure I had everything I would need, which was virtually nothing at all except for my phone, I shut and locked the door behind us as we stepped down onto my front stairs and made our way to Marshall's car. Chivalrously, he held open the shotgun door of the car, and I climbed in before he closed the door and made his way over to his seat.
"Alright, now you can't look out the windows," he demanded of me with a boyish smile on his face. "You have to look at me the entire time because if you look out, I think you might figure out where we're going."
"That's fine by me," I teased as he started the car up and backed it out of the driveway with a few short glimpses at me out of the corner of his eyes. I don't think he figured I noticed, but I did. I noticed and I liked those secretive little glances.
As soon we were on a street, he reached over and took my hand. "Anything else you wanna tell me?" he asked, as if he'd read my mind.
"Kinda," I smiled.
"What is it?"
"I figured out an occupation," I began casually, as if it meant nothing to me.
"Really?" He turned his head away from the road completely in awe. "That's great, Dri! What've you decided on?"
"I want to pursue a career in education," I said simply.
"Like a teacher?" he confirmed.
"Yeah. It's strange because I've never noticed before the bond I had with children and the bonds I try to make. Most of them are easier to communicate with compared to adults, and a lot of Warren's children are not growing up in the circumstances they should be. They don't have a fair chance. Like me and you didn't have a fair chance, and most of our friends didn't either."
Marshall was silent, his hand gripping the steering wheel as his brow furrowed in thought and he pondered what I'd said.
"You know, you're not going to believe it, but I always did think you had that bond with kids. I just never said something because I thought you knew. But you're completely right about the fair chances and the poverty, that plays a massive role in the chances and outcomes. I like the way you think; trying to give back to the community and change Warren for the better. I wish I had a teacher like you when I was growing up, and I might've just stayed in school." Cheekily, he smirked, looking over at me and my broad grin. "I like that, Dri. I like that a lot. You're going to go far."
"Thank you, Marshall. It was a changing moment right in the middle of nowhere, and now I just know what I want. I've been thinking about it long and hard, so I don't skip around to conclusions, and I know this is right, because it feels right."
"What do you mean?" he questioned, slightly puzzled.
So I explained to him the story of exactly what had occurred on Monday, and he listened with such attentiveness and interest, it fueled my passion even further. And when I was done, he turned his head to me, his smile breathtaking.
"You could change lives like that," he stated.
"I hope so. We all want to make a difference in the world, and you've made yours. I gotta step my game up, so I can catch up to you," I joked.
"You may not've made a difference in the world yet, but you sure as hell made a difference in my life. The education jobs have limited material rewards, but you get the satisfaction and that's what matters in any job. And as long as I get a little private, personal time with the school teacher after class, then I'm happy." He tossed me a wink, and I laughed, my cheeks flushing soft pink.
I was about to reply modestly, but then he interrupted me without meaning to do so.
"Quick, hurry, close your eyes!" he bossily commanded with good intentions. I shut my eyes tightly as he'd wished, and from the motions of the car, it appeared as if we were pulling up to a parking slot in a plaza. After what seemed to be a few minutes, I heard the car's engine die out and the click of Marshall's seat belt buckle being unfastened. His clothing shuffled against each other and I felt his body heat as he lowered his body closer to mine.
"Open your eyes," he breathed in my ear, and with an aroused shiver, I did. We were in the same location Marshall had driven us to right after my mother's funeral; the quaint little ice cream shoppe with the plump, motherly woman who'd so cheerfully served us.
"No way," I exhaled, facing him now with enormous eyes.
"I thought since we both liked this place, it would be a nice little date," he shrugged. "You like this?"
"I love it," I gushed. "I can't believe you remembered."
"I don't forget much," he chuckled, kissing me gently on the cheek. His lips were trembling. I pulled him to me and kissed him harder and harder, until his lips moved upwards in a smile, and we both leaned away. I kissed him as hard as I could almost every time, because I still couldn't believe we were reality.
Marshall's POV:
I said I didn't forget much, which is true. But what I meant to say was, nothing about you is worth forgetting. My public persona was harder to keep up with her, and my walls were crumbling down. It almost scared me to admit, she was worth it.
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I felt like this was a crazily long chapter and about half way through I realized it didn't turn out how I would've liked it to, but oh well, sometimes I just have crazy high expectations and this chapter definitely wasn't one of my favorites. School is starting up for me on Monday, so definitely slower uploads because this school year is going to be more challenging than the year before, and I uploaded because I wanted to give you all something to hold onto and read for the next few days. I'm extremely proud to say that we've reached 100,000 reads and literally, I couldn't stop smiling. We can only go up from here, Marshall minions. I appreciate every effort so incredibly, and I notice each and every one of you. For those of you who very kindly comment, I apologize if I haven't gotten back to you yet, I've been quite busy lately and it's hard for me to comment on previous chapters compared to the latest chapter. I'm debating on whether or not I should make a video that will address all your questions regarding me personally or the novel, and if you're for the video, which in my opinion is easier than writing all the information down, please mention it below in the comments! Feel free to vote, comment, fan, message, I love all of them, and until next time! -Parisa.