Call Me Crazy (28 page)

“Finally,” I mouth, silently.

~

“What are you guys doing home?” I ask my parents, as I walk in the door, dress in hand, from my day of shopping with Natalie.

“We decided not to go to the dinner,” my mom tells me.

“Oh,” I don’t really know what else to say. I stand there staring at her, unsure if I should keep going on up to my room or say something more.

“What did you buy?” She asks me.

I motion towards the dress, “A dress for the Fall Ball, Nat made me.” I find myself smiling and my mom smiles back at me.

“Can I see it?” I see the hopefulness in her eyes, and decide if she’s going to try
, then I should as well.

“Sure.” She follows me up to my room and I hang the dress on my closet door and unzip the bag that it is enclosed in.

Her mouth opens and then closes. She stares at it silently for several minutes and then finally speaks. “It’s beautiful, very classy.”

I find that I’m happy about her approval, and I feel a tightening in my chest. “Thank you.”

“Is Trey taking you?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly asked yet,” I say, somewhat sheepishly.

She nods and smiles, “He will.”

“He wants to meet you and dad,” I tell her impulsively. I had never intended to really push the issue, but for some reason I just blurt it out.

“We would like to meet him as well. I’m pretty sure your father and I have Wednesday night free, would you like to see if he can come for dinner that evening?”

“Sure, that would be good.”

She smiles again before leaving.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when I finally hear from Trey.

“Hey,” I say as I answer the phone.

“Hi,” his deep voice rumbles through the phone and I realize that I have missed hearing it. We haven’t talked since Friday, and I am almost thirsty for the sound of him.

“How was your day?” He asks me, and he seems almost cautious, as if he’s afraid of what I might say.

“It was good. Nat and I went and saw Candy, and then went shopping.”

“What did you go shopping for?” I notice that he doesn’t ask me how Candy is, but then I’m distracted by what I should tell him. If I tell him I bought a dress for the dance then he will think that I assume he is taking me; which I guess I am. If I don’t tell him, then I am essentially lying to him and I really don’t want to start that up again. So the truth, no matter how embarrassing is what it will be.

“Dresses,” I say, vaguely. Hey, it’s the truth, he didn’t ask for details so until then, we will go with only need–to–know information.

“Is it for a special occasion, or did you just fancy yourself a new dress?” I hear humor in his voice and for some reason I have a feeling he knows exactly why I went dress shopping.

“Did you just say fancy?” I laugh.

“You’re dodging the question baby. What is the dress for?” He asks again.

I inwardly groan as I launch into my tale. “Nat was insistent that we go buy dresses for the upcoming Fall Ball. I told her that I didn’t even know if I am going, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer, so I just gave in.”

“Why wouldn’t we go?” He asks

I pause. He said we, as in, he and I. I do my inner victory dance and fight a smile.

“You hadn’t mentioned it and I didn’t want to just assume that you were taking me,” I tell him, even though I obviously had assumed. Proof of said assumption currently hung on my closet door.

“Give a man time Baker,” the low hum of his voice sends my insides into a flutter and my stomach tightens.

“I wasn’t planning on going dress shopping Swift, it was Natalie’s idea and once she gets an idea in her head, as sure as the sun rises every day
, she is going to get her way.”

He laughs, and damn if that laugh doesn’t make me want to crawl through the phone and plant a deep kiss on his luscious mouth.

“Tally, are you still there?” Now, his voice sounds slightly worried.

“Yeah, sorry I got side tracked.”

“By what?”

My face turns red and I’m so glad that he isn’t sitting right in front of me.

“Just a thought, it’s gone now.”
Liar
that little voice in the back of my mind sings.

“It’s
late; I better let you get some sleep.”

I don’t want to get off the phone with him, but I know he’s right.

“Alright, thanks for calling.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that beautiful, it’s my privilege. I should be thanking you for answering.”

Well crap, what does a girl say to that?

Thankfully, I remember I needed to ask him a question. “Oh, Trey I forgot to ask you, my parents want to know if you can come over Wednesday for
dinner.”

“Do you know what time?” He asks.

Want to know something sad? I have no idea what time my parents eat dinner. That’s how long it has been since we have eaten together. So, I’m just going to make up a time and hope that it works for my parents.

“Five o’clock,” I tell him.

He’s quiet for a moment and all I can hear is his soft, slow breathing. I assume that he is thinking so I don’t interrupt.

“I think that will work,” he tells me finally and I let out the breath I had been holding.

“Great, okay so I’ll see you in the morning.” I try and sound normal even though on the inside I’m begging for the night to go quickly, like a child on Christmas Eve wanting to blink and wake up to find it’s morning.

“Sleep
well baby,” he says and then ends the call.

I want to ask him how? How can I sleep
well when I’m worried about Candy and thinking about how much I want to be with him? How can I ever sleep good again when there is never a moment when my mind isn’t worried about something? My throat feels like it is closing up and I can’t get air in my lungs.
Not again, please not now
, I tell myself, as I try to calm down. I have to be okay. There is no other option. I cannot lose it, not now. I close my eyes and squeeze them shut, fighting tears. Dr. Stacey told me many times that stress causes the brain to use chemicals more quickly than the medicine can help the brain produce them and that, in turn, can cause depression to rear its ugly head.
Panic attacks often accompany the depression Tally,
I hear her voice in my mind.
You will feel like you can’t breathe, your heart will race, and you might even think you are having a heart attack. Just keep breathing, think of something that brings you peace, and keep breathing.

I
lie back on my bed and reach for him. His smile, his voice, and his gentle touch. Breathe. I think of the understanding I see in his eyes. Breathe. I latch on to every memory I have of him and drink them in, as though I may never have another drink again. Breathe. I feel air saturating my body and relax slightly. It’s enough and I keep breathing. A small victory has been made on this night, and I will take it. I don’t feel joy for the victory, but I’m alive and for tonight that is enough, it has to be.

Ch
apter 21

“Life is so fleeting, and so unpredictable. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring and there is no guarantee that tomorrow will even come. And when the cycle of life hits so close to home, that uncertainty becomes a constant ache in the back of my mind. For one person I love, death creeps in and I wonder how much time I have left with her. And for another person I love, life begins to fill her eyes and I wonder how much time I will be given with her. It is in times such as these that I long for certainty, for something set in stone.” ~Trey

I watch her as she walks towards me through the crowded halls. I hadn’t wanted her to go off by herself, but she insisted that I wait for her at her locker, because she just had to run something to Natalie and she would be right back. But, the truth is I still do not trust these vultures not to hurt her. They may have backed off for now, but they are circling, waiting for the moment when she is unprotected. I know I can’t shelter her from everything, but I will do my damndest to shelter her from what I can.

Her eyes meet mine and never waver as she continues forward. She doesn’t look left or right, because she has no one to talk to, no one to wave at or exchange pleasantries with, and for that I am sorry. I feel my lips turn up into a smile without even thinking about it. That is what she brings me, and when she returns my smile with her own, I feel a rightness settle in my bones.

“Ready?” I ask, as she reaches me. I reach out for her hand and she gives it to me without hesitation.

“Yep,” she answers.

She seems a little subdued today and has for the past two days. I decide to attribute it to nerves over me meeting her parents tonight. I want to ask her if she is all right, but I don’t want to make her feel as though I’m waiting for her to crumble.

We ride in relative silence on the way to her house, but she holds my hand in both of hers, drawing circles across the top of it with one of her fingers. Her grip is not tight, yet I feel as if she is reaching for
my hand like a lifeline, so I don’t let go.

“Does it seem like time tends to speed up every day?” She asks, as I turn onto her street.

“Yes,” I answer, with full understanding of what she means.

“I mean two days passed in the blink of an eye.”

“Are you nervous about me meeting your parents Tally?” I finally dare to ask.

Her mouth twitches and her eyes narrow, as she thinks about her answer.

“Maybe a little,” she admits.

“Are you worried about what they will think of me?”

“I don’t care what they think of you.” The honesty in her voice relaxes a part of me that I hadn’t realized had been tense over her answer.

“I just have no idea how they will act. I’ve never brought a guy home and they are so rarely home that I don’t really feel like I know them.”

I pull into her driveway and cut the engine. We sit, staring at the monstrosity that is her house, and though I am not worried about meeting her parents, I feel the tension radiating off of her and have to force myself to keep from starting the engine and driving away from the source of her stress. I never claimed to be rational when it comes to Tally, but even I surprise myself sometimes by my reactions to things regarding her.

“You got this Baker,” I tell her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. I pull away and get out of my truck. When I open the passenger door, I take a step towards her to keep her from climbing out. I take her face in my hands and kiss her gently. I run my fingers across her jaw and pull back to look at h
er. “We got this.”

She nods at me and takes a deep, steadying breath. When I see the tension leave her shoulders, I move back so that she has room to get out. I take her hand and walk with her up to the front door. It opens before she can reach for the handle.

“Hello.” A thin woman of average height, with chin length blonde hair smiles at us. Her eyes are a startling green, but her smile is warm and genuine. I can see the resemblance between she and Tally though Tally isn't as tall and her eyes are blue.

“Hi mom,” Tally answers with her own smile. “This is Trey,” she motions towards me, “Trey this is my mom Paige Baker.”

I take her outstretched hand and note how much smaller it is than mine. I’m mindful of how hard I squeeze. I shake it gently and smile, “It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Baker.”

“And, you as well
, Trey. Please call me Paige.”

“Thank you,” I say and follow Tally in as Paige steps aside for us to enter.

I try to appear as if I haven't been inside their home, since I am not sure if Tally has told them that, I came over. So, I smile and nod when her mom points out the rooms that are downstairs and the ones upstairs. We follow her down a hall and into a large dining room. A man, I presume is Tally’s dad, is standing with his back to us looking out a large window. He is sipping from a glass of amber liquid and seems to be lost in thought.

“Dear,” Paige says warmly, “Tally and Trey are here.”

Mr. Baker turns and smiles at Tally, it’s genuine, but strained. He is shorter than me by at least four or five inches, putting him around 5’11”. He strides confidently towards us and holds out his hand to me.

“I’m Frank Baker, Tally’s father.”

“Trey Swift sir,” I respond as I shake his hand, with considerably more strength than with Paige. His eyes are the same gray blue as Tally’s and his features are what most, I assume, would consider classically handsome. His hair, though salt and pepper in color is still full and thick on his head and his face is chiseled, with a strong jaw, though lined with some wrinkles, they only add to his good looks. As her parents stand side by side in front of us, I see that Tally is a perfect blend of both of them, as if she was given all the best features from the two.

“It’s nice to meet you Trey, thank you for accepting out invitation to dinner,” he says, as he lets go of my hand. I decide, at this point that since neither of them has made comment on my hair or jewelry that Tally must have explained to them of my heritage.