Page 96 of So Much More
I startle awake when Wendy slides out of my embrace. “Where you going?” I mumble.
“Little girls’ room,” she whispers. “Go back to sleep.”
“I should go home.”
“You’re welcome to stay there on the couch, though you’d probably be more comfortable at home.”
Even in my groggy state, I catch onto the fact that she didn’t invite me to sleep in her bed again, and I slowly sit up and stretch. “Yeah, I’d better go.”
“Okay, let me go to the bathroom, and I’ll be right back to say goodnight.” She scampers off.
By the time she returns, I’m mostly awake and leaning against the wall by the door. She slips her arms around me, and I lean down to kiss the top of her head. I’m not going to kiss her on the mouth before I go, partly because I’m in dire need of mouthwash after our three-hour late-night nap, and partly because I’m afraid if we start kissing again, I won’t leave.
“You didn’t kiss each and every one of my freckles tonight,” Wendy says.
I chuckle. “We’ll save that for next time.”
“And the time after that,” she adds.
“Deal.” I press my lips to her head again and then set her away from me. “I’ll see you at work in a few short hours.”
She smiles. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
As I start to open the door, she hesitatingly says, “Randall?”
I turn back to her. “Yes?”
“I forgive you. You know that, right?”
I nod, although I’m still a bit in awe of that reality.
“I also want us to officially date again, but I’m not ready to let you back into my bed, even for an innocent sleepover. I’ll get there, but I can’t do it yet. Okay?”
“Yeah. I understand.”
“Thanks for not pressuring me.”
“I’d never pressure you, Wendy. That’s not who I am.”
“I know.” She wrings her hands. “I’m not used to that, is all.”
I gather her back into my arms. “I’m sorry you’re not used to it, but you need to get used to it, because I’ll never do that to you. Please believe that.”
She nods against me. “I do.”
forty-two
Randall and I soon settle into a rhythm. We eat lunch together at least once a week, and we spend time together three or four nights a week. A few times, we’ve taken his sisters out to eat or to a movie when their dad’s not around. And we’ve continued the pattern of not kissing when we first see each other, to ensure we spend time talking first.
It’s not uncommon for us to fall asleep together on my couch, but I still haven’t invited him to stay over again. True to his word, he hasn’t complained about going home in the middle of the night, but I know he’s disappointed each time it happens. I also know I need to move forward on this issue, but every time I’m tempted to ask him to crawl into my bed with me, I ultimately can’t do it.
On a Tuesday night a few weeks after the lake weekend, I finally summon up the nerve. Randall comes by late, after going out with Brian and a few other guys from work, and as soon as we hit the couch, I ask, “Will you stay with me all night tonight?”
Randall smooths a lock of hair behind my ear. “You know I will, but are you sure?”
I place my hand over his heart. “I am.”
