I wondered what it would be like to be brought to that point with Kyle.
Chapter 4: A Proposal; A Tree Falls
August, Two Years Later
If our parents knew that Kyle and I were having frequent sex, they didn’t say or do anything about it. We were careful of when and where we did it, of course. Kyle’s mom had started going to a scrapbooking club two or three evenings a week, and his dad was in Washington much of the year, so we spent a lot of time in his room. My mom was home more frequently, as was my dad, but they didn’t seem to care how much time I spent with Kyle at his house. Of course, we claimed to be studying, doing homework, or watching movies most of the time. We did do those things, just not as much as we led my parents to believe.
We’d both turned eighteen the previous week. Our parents had decided, instead of giving us an extravagant party, they’d let us go up to Kyle’s family’s cabin on the lake up north for the weekend. We’d been petitioning for this all summer, and they’d hesitated, telling us they’d think about it. We’d almost given up on the idea when our parents called a meeting with us.
“You guys are eighteen now, and legally adults,” Kyle’s dad said by way of introduction. “You two have been dating for what, two years now? We know what this trip of yours means, and we get it. We were young once too.”
Everyone shifted awkwardly at the implication.
“Yes, well.” Kyle’s dad cleared his throat and continued in his stentorian congressman’s voice. “The point is, we’ve decided to allow you to make this trip together. Now. The hard part. I realize this is tricky and uncomfortable for everyone, but it must be said. You’re young adults now, and capable of making your own decisions. We’ve raised you well, raised you to be smart young people capable of making good decisions. I know we’ve spoken about this before to each of you, as parents, but I believe it must be said to you both together as a couple.”
“Just say it, Dad,” Kyle sighed.
“We’ve spoken of being careful. Of using protection.” Kyle and I exchanged glances but kept silent. “I am a public figure, as is your father, Nell. It is imperative that you take this seriously. I cannot afford scandal at this point in my career. There’s talk of nominating me for the presidential race in two years, and I know I don’t need to remind you how important image is in such a situation.”
“Dad, we’re careful,” Kyle said. “I promise. We’re protected.”
My parents were staring hard at me, so I felt the need to speak up. “I’m on birth control, okay? I have been since we…you know, started. And we use protection. No unplanned pregnancies here, okay? Can we stop talking about this now, please?”
“God, that would be great,” Kyle muttered.
“How long has this been going on?” my dad asked.
Kyle and I exchanged glances again.
“I don’t know if that’s important or not, sir,” Kyle said.
“Of course it’s important,” Dad said, his voice gruff and threatening, fixing Kyle with his sternest CEO-glare. “She’s my daughter. How long?”
I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that look; it was scary as hell.
Kyle lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne, but I really feel like that’s between Nell and me.” Kyle stood up, and I stood with him, and of course everyone else followed suit. Kyle addressed my father once more. “I haven’t discussed my relationship with Nell with any of my friends, and with all due respect, sir, I’m not going to discuss it with you. It’s private.”
My father nodded and extended his hand to Kyle, and they shook. “Good answer, son. I don’t like it, because that means it’s probably been going on longer than I care to think about. But I do respect you for keeping your business private. Protecting my baby’s reputation and all that.”
Kyle nodded. “I love your daughter, sir. I’d never do anything to hurt her, or embarrass her. Or you guys and my parents.”
I threaded my fingers through Kyle’s, proud of him. My dad could be intimidating. I’d gone with Dad to work a few times recently, as I was planning on majoring in business at Syracuse, and I’d seen him use that same hard glare and gruff voice on his employees. Invariably, the unfortunate person on the receiving end had been quaking in their boots and had fairly tripped over themselves to do exactly as my dad asked. Glancing at Mr. Calloway, I could see he was proud of Kyle too for the way he’d handled the situation.
We discussed our plans briefly, and then Kyle and I were dismissed to pack. When we were alone in my room, Kyle slumped back on my bed, scrubbing his face with his hands.
“Holy shit, Nell. Your dad is scary.”
I knelt astride him, leaning down to kiss him. “I know he is. I’ve seen grown-ass men almost piss themselves when Dad does that.” I bit his chin lightly. “I’m proud of you, baby. You did good.”
He cupped my backside and moved me against him. “Do I get a reward?”
I laughed and moved off of him. “When we get up north.”
We packed quickly, putting all of our things in one of Kyle’s extra football gear bags. It felt worldly and adult to be packing together in one bag, my things mixed with his.
As we packed Kyle’s things into the bag, I noticed him dig something out of his sock drawer and shove it into the hip pocket of his jeans. It was small, whatever it was, and I couldn’t make out the shape. I met Kyle’s eyes inquisitively, but he just shrugged and grinned at me. I didn’t push it. I’d never known Kyle to lie to me or keep anything from me, so I wasn’t worried.
We got in the car and Kyle drove while I sorted the junk out of my wallet. I pulled out old receipts, ticket stubs from concerts and movies, half a dozen gift Starbucks and Caribou gift cards either empty or with a few cents left. I came across the note Kyle had written me over a year and a half ago. I reread it, smiling to myself. It seemed like such a long time ago, now. I remembered the girl I was, then, and how full of trepidation I’d been. In the year and a few months since, Kyle and I learned each other, discovered a wonderland of pleasure in each other. He’d learned to bring me to that shivering edge and push me beyond. I’d learned the joyful comfort in lying in his arms afterward, and the drowsy drug-like high of making love in the sleepy afternoon on a summer Sunday in the sun, on a picnic blanket high up on our ridge beneath our tree.