Purely Relative (10 page)

“What? What? Just say it already. Please tell me you aren’t
breaking up with me.” I was half-kidding and half-terrified he really might be.

“No! No. Quite the opposite.” He placed an object on the
table but it remained hidden beneath his palm.

My heart pounded and my head took off into the ether. Oh my
God! He actually did it! So soon. Too soon. Why so soon?
Oh dear Jon, what
have you done?

That’s what you thought in the shower and instead he
handed you a towel.

Yeah, but this time there’s actually a ring box.

For all you know it could be a pair of earrings,
chica. 

“Gayle,” he began, his voice a little shakier than I’d ever
heard it. He was usually so confident. “I know it’s soon and I know you will
probably be caught a little off guard, but I always told you I’d marry you,
Gayle, someday.” He turned his hand over and revealed a black jeweler’s box. “From
the first moment I met you, I knew you were the one for me. The longer I’ve
known you, the more I’ve grown to love you and to realize how right my
instincts were. Gayle Lindley, I love you and I hope that someday might be now.
Will you marry me?” Jon opened the box and inside the black velvet nestled a
ring exactly like the drawing I had seen on the Kruger’s order form, only it
was more beautiful than anything I could have imagined.

My breath came in spasms. My mouth hung open. I couldn’t
speak. Warring voices raged a war of logic and emotion in my head, growing
louder and more strident as the pregnant seconds ticked by. Why couldn’t I
speak? Was I paralyzed? Had shock rendered me mute?

“I....” My word came out as a squeak.

Jon’s smile twitched, dear God it twitched. My hesitation
had rendered him a twitchy wretch. I had to say something. What though? What?
Yes? No, I couldn’t even form the word on my lips. Too many objections
strangled me. No? I couldn’t say that either, because ... I did love him. I
did.

And then his smile withered and died, dragging me into with
it into Purgatory. “You aren’t ready yet, are you?” He closed the ring box lid
with a final, terrifying snap, like a trapdoor beneath a gallows.

I swallowed hard and watched his hands recall his request,
watched him take back that beautiful diamond ring, and I still couldn’t say a
damned thing. I opened my mouth to speak again and managed to force out a
breath, but my vocal chords refused to engage. My body revolted and held me
back.

“It’s okay, Gayle, really. If it’s not yet time, if you
can’t ... it’s not yet time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve screwed this up
already. You’re sitting here in public trying not to make a scene and I
appreciate it, but....” His voice caught ever so slightly, and he shook his
head, eyes pinched shut. I had hurt him, something I never intended to do. His
pain skewered me, as real as if were my own, like pulling a thorny vine through
my heart.

I burst into tears.

“Oh, Gayle, Gayle. No.” Jon scooted his chair closer and
pulled me into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’ve royally botched this, haven’t I?
Proposing to you so suddenly. I didn’t exactly do the best job with it, but I
have a hard time with the right words and—”

I shook my head and finally found my voice albeit a pale
version. “No. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’ve jumped the gun. I know I have. I
don’t want to scare you off, and I hope my family hasn’t done that—”

He was being so sweet, so wonderful, and here I was bawling
my eyes out, unable to say a damn word, unable to tell him to stop apologizing,
unable to tell him how I felt. I wasn’t even sure how I felt beyond the “I love
you” part and that was hard enough to say out loud. My life was twisted and
upside down and surreal. And now I was going to ruin everything by breaking his
heart and my own. What was wrong with me? I needed to get it together, stop
crying.

“Gayle? Sweetheart. It’s okay.” He placed a sweet kiss on my
lips.

“I’m sorry I’m acting like this. It’s just … I-I’m worried.”

He kissed my forehead, then lowered his eyes to meet mine. “Why
worried?”

I filled my lungs with the pungent aroma of steak and onions
and slowly released it to rein in my tears. “No. I can’t marry you. Not yet. I
mean, someday I’d like to, but—”

“But not today.” He smiled ruefully at me before kissing my
lips. “Okay.”

“Please don’t think it’s because I don’t love you or love
you enough. That’s not why. I just, I just don’t think I’m ready for that. Not
yet. But damn, that ring was gorgeous.” A final half laugh, half–choking
cough emerged from me as I expelled the last of my barriers. We both laughed
together, but I could see the tension in the lines around his eyes, in the
tightness of his jaw.

“Yeah, well, I knew it was a long shot,” he said, tucking
the box into his jacket pocket.

I rested my palm against his cheek. “Given we’ve only been
dating for a couple of weeks, yes, but don’t take it as my final answer.
Please.”

He nodded, but searched my face as if he had more to say or
ask. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to hang onto the ring and keep asking
you until I finally love you so hard you have to say yes.”

That made me smile. “Is this a challenge?”

A grin emerged. “If you like.”

“Can I see the ring again?”

The grin grew. “Absolutely not, not until you’re ready to
say yes.”

“Tease.”

“Merely keeping the mystery alive.”

***

The trip back to my place was quiet,
with neither of us speaking. It was like walking through cement. The mind
wanted to move forward but the body was trapped in all this stuff.

When he parked Christine in front of my building he asked, “Can
I stay or would you rather spend the night apart to think?”

My heart hurt from the thought of him leaving me again. In a
small voice I said, “I’d like you to stay.”

He blew out a long breath. “Oh, good.”

“Were you worried?”

He turned to me. The anguish on his face tore at me. “Yes.
Very.”

I placed a palm on his cheek that he turned into and gave a
kiss. “You might think I’m skittish, but I’m actually pretty tenacious about
what I want. Never doubt that I want you, that I love you.” I leaned forward
and kissed him. “Never.”

There was a certain wistfulness to our lovemaking that
night. I didn’t know if Jon was thinking my lack of a “yes” answer was the same
as a “no” that was simply missing a brave messenger to deliver it, or if the
failure of the scene to play out as he’d expected had thrown him off. For my
part, anxiety that he’d soon move on to someone else who would say yes tangoed
with my good sense. While in my head I believed Jon when he said “no pressure”
and that he’d continue to wait until I was ready, my heart still worried about
the impact on his ego. As we lay there side by side, our hearts slowing and the
bliss endorphins waning, I took his hand.

“You want to tell me what you’re thinking? Because I know
your mind is working overtime and when it does that, I also know there’s more
to come.” I gave his hand what I hoped he’d see as a reassuring squeeze.

A soft snort erupted. He lifted my hand and brushed a kiss
against the back of my knuckles. “You know me too well.” His good humor
dissolved on a long-drawn-out sigh. He drew in a deep breath, released it, then
sucked in another. “I’m moving back to DC.”

Moving back to DC? As in the District of Columbia, our
Nation’s capital? As in all the way out on the East Coast where people still
clung together in huddled masses? Where all the cities melted from one into the
other until there was nothing but one giant metropolis with only toll booths to
commemorate notable transitions?

I so did not see that coming. He’d gob-smacked me in my own
bed where I was supposed to be safe and in blissful isolation from the real
world. I had no idea his marriage proposal was an either-or
proposition—marry me or I’m moving away. I wanted to scream foul ball and
demand a do-over. My eyes watered. One of my greatest fears he blithely shoved
in my face without even the slightest preamble. Typical Jon. I’d hate him for
it if I didn’t love the man, hideous flaws and all.

I forced out an “oh.” It was the best I could do. I was
grateful for the darkness to hide the tears I couldn’t stop from rolling out
the corners of my eyes. “When?”

“First of the new year, officially, but I’m moving my stuff
there in three weeks.”

“Three weeks? During the holidays?”

“I’ll be back for Christmas.”

“Is that why you went to DC?” His subterfuge cut to the
bone. After all we’d been through with his lie about being an FBI undercover
agent when I first met him, I trusted him not to do that to me again. But he
had. His mother was right. The Bureau would always come first.

“Yes.” His voice was barely above a whisper. At least he was
a little upset, but whether his distress was organic or derived from mine, I’d
no idea.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

His hand tightened its grip on mine. “I didn’t want ... I
didn’t know if my old job would still be available.”

“Did you approach them or did they approach you?” I asked,
my nose beginning to sound stuffy from the tears that ran down the sides of my
cheeks and into my ears, cold and miserable.

“A little of both. I requested the transfer months ago,
before I had even met you. Thalia and I weren’t clicking the way I’d hoped.
Since I had recently transferred to Dallas, the Bureau wasn’t all that gung-ho
to transfer me back. Even though they accepted the paperwork they told me it
would be a while, that I probably wouldn’t hear until the end of November. That
seemed so far off in the future back then.” The bed jiggled as he shifted to
lay his head on my stomach.

I ran my fingers through his hair. “So, what does this mean?
For us? You just proposed and because I didn’t say yes—didn’t say no
either—you’re moving away, breaking up with me?” My voice broke and my
breath hitched.

He lifted off of me. “What? Is that what you think? Do you
think I’m that flighty that I’d move away like that? I told you I’d wait for
you, and I meant it.” I couldn’t see him in the darkness, but I knew he’d
rolled to his side and was watching me.

“Yeah, but I assumed we’d be together while you waited, not
in a long distance relationship.”

His hand slid to the side of my face. He must have felt the
wetness because his thumb gently rubbed near the corners of my eyes. “Who said
anything about long distance relationship?”

“You did, by announcing you were moving away.”

He pressed closer and ran a palm over my belly and up to my
breast, gently cradling it. “What do you want, Gayle?”

“You. And a job.”

“That’s a good start. Does the job have to be in Dallas?”

“I’m rather fond of short commutes, or at least ones in the
same state.” The words burst out on a half laugh, half sob.

He kissed the side of my head and caught his breath. “You’re
coming with me.” It was a statement, not a question, a statement I’d had no say
in.

“Jon. I’m dead broke. I can’t afford to move to DC. I barely
got myself from Albuquerque to Dallas, and they’re in neighboring states. And
even if I could afford the gas to drive there, I couldn’t afford to live
anywhere. If I’m going to live in my car, at least I know Dallas a little bit.”
I wiped my other eye. The whole conversation was impossible to make any sense
of. He wanted to marry me one minute, leave me the next, and then dangle an
impossible compromise in front of me.

“No. When I said, you’re coming with me, I meant
with
me as in you’re as much a part of me as my own heart. I’ll take care of you,
forever, if that’s what will make you happy. I already want to do that.”

Oh, he was using the big guns on me, so unfair playing to my
financial insecurities, but I couldn’t live on his charity. As romantic as the
idea of being a kept woman sounded—that wasn’t me. I rolled to my side
and moved against him, my lips against his neck. “Part of me wants nothing more
than to curl up into the palm of your hand where it’s safe and warm and where I
know I am loved. But another part is warning me that giving too much of myself
away to anyone would make me a lesser person, would weaken the whole, change
me, and not in a good way. I like being able to depend on myself, to know I can
survive on my own if I had to, not that I want to, but if I had to.”

He shifted away. “I didn’t know loving me could ever make
you a lesser person, Gayle. That was never my intention.”

I had hurt him. Dammit! Why did he have to misinterpret me,
now of all times? I drew in a deep breath and thought before I spoke, not
wanting to botch it again. “It’s not the loving you part that would make me
less. It’s what I do with the rest of me, because unless we are the same
person, there will always be a part of me that has needs that you can’t
fulfill. Love is the greatest of all treasures, but I need more than love to
survive and I need to love myself as much as I love you. I would want that for
you, too.”

Jon sighed and clasped his hands on his belly, staring at
the ceiling. “Okay, let me try this another way then. Will you shift your job
hunt to DC?” He turned his head toward me. Despite the darkness, I didn’t need
to see his eyes to know what they held.

“Yes. I will. Of course I will.” God help me. I knew
absolutely nothing about our Nation’s capital, had only visited once in my
life. Yet here I was promising to move hundreds of miles away to be with my
boyfriend of what? A month? Less than that if you counted from when we first
admitted our feelings for each other.

But me in a government job? I shuddered at the idea. I was
so not cut out for bureaucracy. That much I knew already.

Jon kissed me, long and hard, before pulling my back to his
chest. We slept that way until morning when I woke and discovered he had left
for work already.