Chasing the Tide
Page 8
But I knew that Flynn would never throw my feelings back in my face. He would accept them. He would hear them. And he would be careful with the heart I had given him.
“You’re jealous,” Flynn repeated.
“Yes, Flynn. I’m jealous. You’re my boyfriend. We don’t see each other every day. It’s normal. Well, at least normal for me.”
“She’s fifty years old. She looks like my mother. I don’t think about having sex with Imogen,” Flynn said and I could imagine him frowning as he tried to understand what I had to be jealous about.
I chuckled in relief. “Well I didn’t know she was fifty and looked like your mom, Flynn.”
“She has grey hair and really bad breath. She drinks too much coffee and her teeth are yellow from smoking. But she’s nice and she gives Murphy treats when I bring him to campus with me.”
I coughed to cover up my laughter. Appreciating, this once, the fact that he didn’t know how to censor himself.
“I hope you never tell Imogen that she has bad breath.” I couldn’t help but snicker.
“No. I haven’t. Leonard and I have been working on socially appropriate behavior. I’m trying not to say everything I think. It’s really not funny. Please don’t laugh. You know I don’t’ like it.” He clearly didn’t see the humor so I bit down on my lip and smothered my laughter.
“Well that’s good. Leonard seems to know his stuff.”
Leonard Gentry was Flynn’s new therapist. He had been seeing him since I moved away. I had noticed a lot of positive changes in how Flynn behaved in public. He was getting a handle on social cues and nuances of behavior that most people didn’t think about much. He stopped stealing food from my plate and he was less likely to tell a complete stranger that he could see her nipples through her shirt.
I sort of missed the randomly rude observations but I was also relieved that I didn’t have to make excuses when he told a scary biker dude that he was taking too long to place his coffee order.
“Leonard wants to meet you. He says it would be good since we’re going to live together. He thinks you have issues you need to deal with before we can have a healthy, long-term relationship.”
My teeth clenched together in annoyance. I didn’t like anyone, including Flynn, talking about my “issues.” And I didn’t like this Leonard guy’s assumption that unless I vomited up my past in therapy, Flynn and I would never be able to have a functional life.
But I knew he meant well and maybe Leonard’s assertion had some relevance. So I tried not to get irritated.
“So you’ll come to my graduation?” I had asked, changing the subject.
“I’ll be there. I’ll come on Friday night. I can stay at a hotel. There’s a Holiday Inn down the street where I can stay. They have a continental breakfast every morning and the parking is only $10 a day,” he suggested.
“No, I want you to stay here,” I told him.
“With you,” Flynn said.
“With me,” I agreed.
“You want me to sleep in the same bed with you,” he continued.
I laughed. “Well, yeah. That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do. They sleep in a bed together. Particularly ones who are going to live together.”
“I can touch you when we’re in bed together. And kiss you. I like that. You do too. You make those noises when I kiss your—“
“Yeah, Flynn, I like it,” I mumbled, getting red, even though no one could hear the conversation but the two of us.
“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” Flynn had agreed.
So Flynn had come to my graduation. I made sure to reserve him a chair at the front of the auditorium and placed him at the end of the row so he wouldn’t feel crowded.
When Flynn had met Nadine he had told her she had food between her teeth. He then went on to tell her about her eyes being different sizes and I thought she was going to smack him. Nadine had been embarrassed and flustered and I had to remind him of things he should and shouldn’t say in public. He apologized to her but it definitely felt awkward after that.
Flynn out of his comfort zone was like being around a live hand grenade. You never knew when or if it would go off.
He had only stayed one night. I was pretty sure Nadine showing up at my door at one in the morning with three of her friends and a crate of alcohol had been too much for him, even if I hadn’t let them in.
His anxiety and compulsive behaviors were noticeably present the entire time. He wouldn’t sleep under the covers of my bed. He complained that the sheets were too rough and he became irrationally angry about it. I offered to change the sheets but he refused, saying he’d rather sleep on top of the blanket.
He barely touched me the entire time.
I tried not to get hurt or pissed, as was in my nature to do so. But I was probably less patient than I normally was. I had been almost relieved when he had left the following morning.
Then I had hated myself for feeling that way.
Because he had tried so hard to be sweet and caring. He brought me Black-eyed Susans. They were wilted by the time he got to my apartment but that didn’t matter. Because no had ever been so aware of what made me happy the way that he was.
I pulled my car up behind Flynn’s. He kept his mother’s old car in pristine condition; not caring that the model was over fifteen years old and he could easily afford a new one. It had belonged to his mom so he refused to drive anything else.
“You’re jealous,” Flynn repeated.
“Yes, Flynn. I’m jealous. You’re my boyfriend. We don’t see each other every day. It’s normal. Well, at least normal for me.”
“She’s fifty years old. She looks like my mother. I don’t think about having sex with Imogen,” Flynn said and I could imagine him frowning as he tried to understand what I had to be jealous about.
I chuckled in relief. “Well I didn’t know she was fifty and looked like your mom, Flynn.”
“She has grey hair and really bad breath. She drinks too much coffee and her teeth are yellow from smoking. But she’s nice and she gives Murphy treats when I bring him to campus with me.”
I coughed to cover up my laughter. Appreciating, this once, the fact that he didn’t know how to censor himself.
“I hope you never tell Imogen that she has bad breath.” I couldn’t help but snicker.
“No. I haven’t. Leonard and I have been working on socially appropriate behavior. I’m trying not to say everything I think. It’s really not funny. Please don’t laugh. You know I don’t’ like it.” He clearly didn’t see the humor so I bit down on my lip and smothered my laughter.
“Well that’s good. Leonard seems to know his stuff.”
Leonard Gentry was Flynn’s new therapist. He had been seeing him since I moved away. I had noticed a lot of positive changes in how Flynn behaved in public. He was getting a handle on social cues and nuances of behavior that most people didn’t think about much. He stopped stealing food from my plate and he was less likely to tell a complete stranger that he could see her nipples through her shirt.
I sort of missed the randomly rude observations but I was also relieved that I didn’t have to make excuses when he told a scary biker dude that he was taking too long to place his coffee order.
“Leonard wants to meet you. He says it would be good since we’re going to live together. He thinks you have issues you need to deal with before we can have a healthy, long-term relationship.”
My teeth clenched together in annoyance. I didn’t like anyone, including Flynn, talking about my “issues.” And I didn’t like this Leonard guy’s assumption that unless I vomited up my past in therapy, Flynn and I would never be able to have a functional life.
But I knew he meant well and maybe Leonard’s assertion had some relevance. So I tried not to get irritated.
“So you’ll come to my graduation?” I had asked, changing the subject.
“I’ll be there. I’ll come on Friday night. I can stay at a hotel. There’s a Holiday Inn down the street where I can stay. They have a continental breakfast every morning and the parking is only $10 a day,” he suggested.
“No, I want you to stay here,” I told him.
“With you,” Flynn said.
“With me,” I agreed.
“You want me to sleep in the same bed with you,” he continued.
I laughed. “Well, yeah. That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do. They sleep in a bed together. Particularly ones who are going to live together.”
“I can touch you when we’re in bed together. And kiss you. I like that. You do too. You make those noises when I kiss your—“
“Yeah, Flynn, I like it,” I mumbled, getting red, even though no one could hear the conversation but the two of us.
“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” Flynn had agreed.
So Flynn had come to my graduation. I made sure to reserve him a chair at the front of the auditorium and placed him at the end of the row so he wouldn’t feel crowded.
When Flynn had met Nadine he had told her she had food between her teeth. He then went on to tell her about her eyes being different sizes and I thought she was going to smack him. Nadine had been embarrassed and flustered and I had to remind him of things he should and shouldn’t say in public. He apologized to her but it definitely felt awkward after that.
Flynn out of his comfort zone was like being around a live hand grenade. You never knew when or if it would go off.
He had only stayed one night. I was pretty sure Nadine showing up at my door at one in the morning with three of her friends and a crate of alcohol had been too much for him, even if I hadn’t let them in.
His anxiety and compulsive behaviors were noticeably present the entire time. He wouldn’t sleep under the covers of my bed. He complained that the sheets were too rough and he became irrationally angry about it. I offered to change the sheets but he refused, saying he’d rather sleep on top of the blanket.
He barely touched me the entire time.
I tried not to get hurt or pissed, as was in my nature to do so. But I was probably less patient than I normally was. I had been almost relieved when he had left the following morning.
Then I had hated myself for feeling that way.
Because he had tried so hard to be sweet and caring. He brought me Black-eyed Susans. They were wilted by the time he got to my apartment but that didn’t matter. Because no had ever been so aware of what made me happy the way that he was.
I pulled my car up behind Flynn’s. He kept his mother’s old car in pristine condition; not caring that the model was over fifteen years old and he could easily afford a new one. It had belonged to his mom so he refused to drive anything else.
