Page 48 of Under Locke & Key
Because if I push too hard she’ll retreat.
Rachel’s been beholden to too many other people and their opinion of what she should or shouldn’t do.
She should get a specific degree. She should be grateful for the job she had in D.C.
because there are others who would kill for it if she’s too ungrateful.
She shouldn’t expect a promotion she’s earned because she’s a liability.
She shouldn’t throw away years of hard work and studies to run off to some town in Maryland to shack up with someone just as lonely and scared as she is.
“I’ll come. I’ll be there.” Rachel nods emphatically. Whether she does so to convince herself or me is unclear.
She’s right in front of me now, staring up into my face with tear tracks glistening on her cheeks and her skin strangely pallid, devoid of the blush that I relish whenever I kiss that one spot on her neck.
I content myself with something a little less risky. My hand cups her cheek, wiping away the evidence of her distress and I place a soft kiss against her swollen lips.
She tastes like salt and the best summer of my life, and I hope to whatever entity might be out there listening that she feels the same. Because I want so much more than just six months of working together and dancing around how great this could be if we let it.
I pull away, quicker than I’d like, and she’s got her face tilted up toward mine. Her eyes are still shut, her lips slightly parted and it takes everything in me not to dip back down for more.
“Goodnight, Rachel. I’ll see you at the opening.” Please come. Please ask me to stay. Please let what I have planned and kept to myself be enough to show you that I love you and I want this—whatever you’re willing to give.
The trip down the stairs is far less frantic than the one that preceded it and I make it home, a little shaky. Pulling up to the drive, a huge box is leaned up against my parents’ front door.
“Give us a hand over here!” My dad calls through the window beside the front door and I rush over to hold onto it. Once I have a good grip, he opens the door and we slowly ease it inside.
Laying the box on its side, I tremble in anticipation and trepidation.
My father holds out the Swiss army knife he keeps in his pocket constantly—the one that’s gotten us into trouble at more than one metal detector—and I slice through the tape holding the box together.
“What is it?” My mom asks, popping her head into the entryway.
“It’s the sign for the front.” Tugging away layers of protective foam and bubble wrap, I unearth the secret I’ve been keeping from everyone.
“Oh, Bryce . . .” My mom breathes, emotion plain in her voice.
“She saw Steph come by the theater. She saw Steph try to kiss me. I had to rush after her just to convince her to come to the opening after all that.”
“What the hell is Steph doing down here?” My father asks, and I cover up the sign.
Standing, I head into the kitchen and they follow. I pour myself a glass of cold water and gulp it down, the summer heat and my desperate dash after Rachel leaving me thirsty.
“Apparently she’s had a change of heart. After talking to the man who used to be our banker and finding out I’ve tried to make something of myself, she apparently took it as a sign that I was putting her parting words to use and it proved I wanted her in my life.”
She’s not wrong. Technically. That is sort of what this started as. My mind is quick to remind me, but it’s so much more than that now.
“I told her to get out and if I found her back there I’d call the cops.”
My father barks out a laugh so hearty he has to remove his glasses to wipe away a tear.
“You? My mild-mannered, sweet boy, threatened her with the cops?” my mom asks, raising her eyebrow in doubt.
“I had somewhere else to be and I am done dealing with her. It’s too late and I wasn’t willing to hear a single word she had to say.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal but we all know that Bryce from a year—two years ago would have been grateful that she decided to come back.
I hope I’m never that Bryce again. I’ve grown and from what I saw as my biggest heartbreak at the time has come my triumph.
Living well is the best revenge, but more than that, it’s been the closure I’ve needed.
The months between her walking out and the day I left for Dulaney were dark and bleak.
My anger and resentment, self-hatred and grief ate at me.
Now. Now, I have so much to look forward to and more that makes me happy. She doesn’t even come to mind anymore.
“Do you think Rachel will like it?” I ask, my insecurity leaking through despite me trying to convince myself I’m fine with whatever she decides.
“She will. She’d be a fool not to and one thing I can say about Rachel is that she’s no fool.” My father’s praise warms my heart. They never liked Steph, and she never cared for them.
“Would you guys mind helping me take this over to the theater? I can call Logan too if you think we need him.”
“Of course we’ll help you. We’ll have to cover it with something until the big reveal and I have just the thing in my sewing room.
You two haul it out onto the back of your father’s truck in the meantime.
If it’s too heavy, then call Logan. The last thing we need is one of you throwing your back out just before the opening. ”
“Yes, Mom,” and “Yes, Dear,” sounds from me and my father and we chuckle at the mirrored tone of our responses.
My dad tapes the box shut again and we lug it out, heaving it up onto the bed of the truck.
My mom comes out with a huge bundle of fabric in her arms, bright red and opaque, and some gold rope.
Dad grabs his giant tool box as well, even though he rarely ever uses it, it’s well stocked and will definitely come in handy.
“I’m going to call Logan, just in case. My hand’s better but I’d rather not tempt fate or get Dad injured as well.”
The drive to the theater is quiet save for my conversation with Logan and he’s on his way to meet us almost immediately. I’ve never been more grateful that he works from home for his marketing stuff. Once I have enough capital I’ll be hiring him to handle my marketing as well.
We pull up front, the truck idling next to the sidewalk and the cold air from the AC blasting out through the open doors as we stare up at what remains of the old matinee. It’ll be a bear to tear down, and the new sign won’t be much easier to mount either, but hopefully it’ll be worth it.
“Alright, family. Let’s do this!” Logan says and we jump into action.
Two days until it all comes to fruition. Two days until I show Rachel just how much she’s a part of this, just as I am. And she sees exactly how I feel about her in case my words fail me.
Staring up at the matinee, resolute, I can only hope. It will have to be enough.