First Man (20 page)

I didn’t want his comfort. I hadn’t lost Ember to death or a disease. I’d lost her to our foolish pride in our own invincibility. I’d flown far to close to the flame, and I had no one but myself to blame when my wings melted.

The wide world had opened itself up to me again, and I wanted nothing of it. The wanderlust that had scratched at the back of my mind for most of my life had fallen silent. The only place I wanted to be was back in my one room apartment in that quiet little town.

I pulled my car over at a rest stop about twenty miles outside of Boston, frozen with indecision. I knew what I wanted to do.

I wanted to go home.

Laughter bubbled up out of me, sounding crazed even to my own ears.

Thirty-four years of life, and I’d finally found a home.

And now it was gone.

What had I done?

In the end, I reverted back to the only life I had ever known. I chose a city, nearly at random. New Orleans was the sort of place one could easily get lost in a crowd. The endless parade of tourists gave me my elusive anonymity.

I began publishing again. Even heartbreak couldn’t keep me from academia for long. The American literature books were pushed aside for the comforting familiarity of the ancients. I studied and wrote and sometimes days would pass before I spoke to another human being.

I lived the life of a recluse or a penitent. I’d had more chances than most men, and I’d shattered them all to dust and rubble. I was done trying.

A year had slipped away and I barely noticed. A stack of unanswered letters and postcards from Edwin littered my dining room table. He hadn’t given up on me, despite my self-imposed imprisonment. The latest was a gaudy postcard with picture of a scantily clad mermaid on the front. “
Answer your phone, Adam. At least let me know you’re still alive. Please.”
was scrawled on the back.

Guilt nagged at me every time I glanced at that growing stack of unanswered correspondence. Edwin was probably the last friend I had left in the world, and he didn’t deserve to be treated this way.

Sighing, I closed the book I’d been unsuccessfully trying to read for the last hour. I needed fresh air and a cup of coffee, preferably in that order.

Within a few minutes, I was sitting at an outdoor cafe on Bourbon Street indulging in strong coffee and the ever present sound of jazz music when I saw her.

The blonde hair was gone, replaced by bright copper waves, and she moved like a woman instead of a girl, but I knew instantly it was her. She crossed the street towards me, her eyes sweeping over every detail the way they always had when I knew her. She had just stepped onto the sidewalk when her eyes locked with mine. She froze, and a dozen emotions crossed her face - shock, elation, anger, before finally settling into amazement. People walked around her, briefly obscuring our view of each other, and she seemed to come to her senses. She stepped over the low wall that enclosed the cafe and stood before me.

“Adam?” she whispered. There was a quaver in her voice that I had never heard before.

“Ember.”

She sank down into the empty chair on the other side of the table, and just stared at me. All the sounds faded to nothing around us. The waitress came to the table and asked if she wanted anything. Ember waved her away.

A year had passed since we’d been torn apart and I’d slunk from Portsmouth with my tail between my legs. I was 35 now, and I’d spent the last twelve months slipping back into the self-destructive habits Lily had broken me of all those years ago. I hadn’t grown. I hadn’t changed. I’d just given up altogether.

Ember sat across from me, looking shell-shocked and achingly beautiful. She was 19 with a hard look in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before. Had I done that?

“I don’t know how to do this,” she began, her words halting. “I’ve thought about this moment so many times. I’ve dreamed about it, and now that you’re here, I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or punch you.”

“I probably deserve the latter.”

“There’s no probably about it. Look, I live a few blocks from here, and my roommate’s out for the day. Let’s go back to my place and talk.”

Louisiana heat made wearing the least amount of clothing the most preferable option. I kissed her in the hallway of her apartment when she paused to find her keys. Her purse clattered to the floor, and some part of my mind was happy that I could still effect her that way. I poured everything into that kiss, a year of longing for her, of living my life in limbo because I had been a coward and walked away from my second chance out of fear and a misguided sense of “doing the right thing.” I buried my hands in her red hair and tried to reconcile this beautiful, adult woman with the teenager I had known. Her hips pressed against mine and she kissed me back.

Some part of my mind tensed as I realized we were out in the open. Anyone could see us, but that ship had long since sailed. I could kiss her in front of an entire Mardi Gras parade if I wanted.

I wanted.

Ember pulled away and crouched down, retrieving her purse and the keys that had spilled out. I pressed against her back as she unlocked to door, our bodies fitting together as they always had. I followed her into the apartment. Later, I would notice the color draped over every surface. I would inspect the photographs covering the refrigerator and the paintings on the walls and marvel how this space was
her
in every way.

But not now. There was no frenzied tearing of clothes. I didn’t have my way with her spread out across the kitchen table, at least not yet. She was here, but she wasn’t mine anymore.

“What happened?” she demanded, taking a seat on the dark blue sofa that dominated the living room. “I want your side.” I sat next to her, relaxing as she twined her fingers through my own, memories flooding back to me.

“You probably know more than I do,” I admitted. “Principal Moore came to my office to inform me about certain accusations towards me. He wanted me to confirm them.”

“Why didn’t you lie?”

I sighed ruefully. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Ember. He guessed it was you. There would have been a hearing, and it would have come out anyway. I was trying to protect you.” I knew how empty those words sounded, and I waited for Ember to tell me so.

Instead, she quietly replied, “I know.” I looked up, stunned. “Expecting me to yell? I did that. I cursed you for leaving me. I screamed at my parents and the principal. I almost broke Annie Sargent’s jaw. It’s amazing I didn’t end up expelled.”

I squinted, searching my mind for who that name belonged to. I vaguely remembered the girl, small and unremarkable in both her work and her appearance. Annie had been in Ember’s class, one of those students who perched herself in the front row of every class with her arm perpetually in the air.

Annie desperately wanted to be one the students who started the debates and dazzled the class with her insight, but her work was always cursory and her arguments were shallow. She excelled in classes where there was only one right or wrong answer, but when it came to discussions and critical thinking skills, she was lacking.

“Why Annie?”

“That little brown-nosing bitch was the one who ratted us out.” she spat. “That time on your desk
was
fun.” Her face darkened. “And it was the last time. She must have heard us or maybe the door wasn’t locked.” She shook her head sadly. “It doesn’t matter now. What happened next was what you’d expect. She turned around and marched right to the principal’s office with both of our names.”

Back in those days, I’d had no concept of the depths of teenage jealousy. Annie had seethed every time I called on Ember instead of her, and when she discovered the ammunition to damn us both, she hadn’t hesitated to use it to her full advantage.

“She was pretty pissed when I didn’t get in trouble too since I was the
victim
.” Disdain dripped from Ember’s words. “She decided it was her job to make me pay then. She told everyone that I’d been screwing the teacher, and that’s why you left.”

I hung my head, unwilling to look at her. I’d left to try and spare her from the very thing my absence had condemned her to. I’d wasted a year of our lives, and for what?

Trying to change the subject, I asked, “What are you doing living in New Orleans? What happened to Boston?”

“I wasn’t that girl anymore.” She stood up and wandered over to the small desk in the corner of the room. She tugged open the top drawer and pulled out a small framed photo. I didn’t need to look at it to know what that photo was of. Its twin had joined the few, precious photos of my loved ones.

Ember handed me the frame, and I saw the two smiling faces staring up at me. Ember had snapped it while we laid in bed together. The rain had been pounding on the building and we’d huddled together in my bed, listening to the wind beat the bare branches of the maple tree against my window. Our smiles were relaxed and unworried. Hidden by the storm, we were together and we were so very happy.

“I had to hide it. My parents would have thrown it away if they’d seen it, but it was all I had.” She sat back down next to me, idly brushing her finger over the glass. “I know it’s only been a year, but I hardly recognize myself. I didn’t go to BU,” she finished abruptly.

I was stunned to silence at first. Was this something else I’d cost her? “You were so excited about college.”

“I still am. I start at Tulane in the fall. I took a year off. My aunt owns a bakery in Metairie. She needed an extra pair of hands and I needed to get away.” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “Adam, I know we need to get to know each other again and we can’t just become who we were, but can all that wait? Can you just be kissing me now?”

Neither of us needed words. I put the photograph aside, laying it on the coffee table with all the reverence I gave any artifact of a place lost in time, and then I was kissing her again and tangling my fingers in those unfamiliar copper waves.

She was right. Wiser people would have spent more than a few moments getting reacquainted, but we had always been two people who overthought everything except each other. We’d been a year without each other, and those months fell away like nothing as I fell back into her.

I didn’t ask if the roommate she mentioned would be home soon. The thought that anyone might interrupt us didn’t enter my mind for an instant, but the cramped sofa wasn’t where I wanted this to happen.

Ember had always seemed to be able to read my mind. She stood up and lead me through one of the open doors, kicking it shut behind us.

The room was small and draped with color. Swaths of fabric in blue and gold hung over the windows, dampening out the bright afternoon sun. A large four poster bed dominated most of the room, an inviting mound of blankets and pillows covering it.

Ember had never been shy, and that facet of her personality hadn’t changed. The sundress today was white, but I couldn’t help thinking back to that red silk dress she’d worn that first time. This time, when I pushed the straps off her shoulders, I wasn’t the old man taking advantage.

She stepped out of the puddle of white fabric at her feet and held my gaze while she removed the last few scraps of lace covered her body to stand bare before me.

“See something you like?” she asked, echoing that younger version of herself.

“Many many things.”

Ember unbuttoned my shirt with haste. A button popped off, disappearing into the recesses of her bedroom. “Oops,” she said, sounding thoroughly unapologetic.