Fix It for Us (15 page)

We walk in to the tradition
al Pomp and Circumstance.  Once we are seated, by some fluke, I am seated behind and only two seats down from Davis.  We can see each other.  I could lean up and talk to him if I wanted.  I shouldn’t be surprised, since our last names are close in the alphabet.  Brandon and Connelly.  Sounds like a law firm. 

I try my best to focus during the ceremony, but am way internally distracted.  I keep replaying last night, going over the details of how Davis and I are going to make our relationship work long distance for awhile.  I think about last summer.  How alone I was.  How scared I was of my behavior after the Neil and Robyn incident.  Then I
skate into dangerous thought territory… a place I haven’t been for a long time.  Randall.  I still didn’t really have any awareness of what happened with him before I ran away back to my hometown last summer.  I decide, sitting and paying half attention to the graduation speaker, a famous sports announcer from our town, (interesting choice, but a Weldon grad), that I will call Dr. Matt this summer and see what he thinks about delving into retrieving that memory.  The pros and cons.  Something to focus on other than work while Davis is gone.  A little self-improvement project, of sorts. 

A concus
sion of applause stirs me from my thoughts.  As I come back to the present moment, I notice Davis looking back at me, his head cocked, a questioning, concerned look on his face.  He’s clapping with everyone else, but focused on me.  Davis mouths the words “OKAY?”  I nod my head yes and join in with the applause.

The conferring of degrees takes
the longest part of the ceremony, with each of us taking the stage to accept our empty folder (the actual diploma will arrive later in the mail) and a congratulatory handshake from the Dean.  I don’t think I’ve felt that many camera flashes since the night the photographers snapped us going to HeartSmash.  Davis, Smitty and I are the only ones graduating from our group of friends.  Suzette is graduating, too.  I no longer consider her part of the group.  The rest have one or two semesters to go.  I pay attention until Smitty’s name is called during the S’s, then I get antsy.  I just want a little more time with Davis before he leaves.

After the last diploma is given out and hats fly up and then rain
back down on us like a flock of flightless crows, the three of us, Davis, Smitty and I find each other in the fray and then we people.  Beautiful Kathleen leads the crowd of our well-wishers, waiting outside the staging area, toward us.  She has eyes for no one but Smitty and he for her.  She practically jumps into his arms and smothers him with kisses.  I have my hand in Davis’ and give it a squeeze as we both look at them, so happy together.  Davis reaches out and pats Smitty’s back as we pass by.  Smitty never looks up from Kathleen’s face.  He just answers Davis’ silent congratulations with a “Thanks, man,” and is right back to kissing Kath.

My mom and dad,
the Lt. Governor and Mrs. Brandon, Jules, Charlie, Mel and Kris are all waiting there to greet us.  I kiss and hug Mom and Dad.  They hold me tight and tell me over and over how proud they are of me.  For a moment, we are just our little family of three again.  Jules interrupts, hugging my parents as much as I am.  They are hugging her right back.  I feel a hand on my elbow and turn to see who’s touching me.  It’s Charlie.  He pulls me out of the Mom-Dad-Jules huddle and takes me aside where nobody can hear us.

Wrapping me up in a big hug and lifting me
off the ground, he finally says a bit hoarsely, “Hey.”

I realize I am
hugging him, in much the way I was in the picture taken by Smitty.  Just not as fiercely.  It’s hard to wrap your legs around someone in a dress and remain appropriate, so I don’t.  I pull back a little to talk to him and smile, “Hey, Charlie.”

“I just want
you to know you’ll always be a sister to me.  I would do anything for you.  I don’t think I ever told you that before, but I thought you should know that’s how I feel.  You’re my second favorite girl.”  With the last words he looks at Jules. “Congratulations, Bizzy.”

“Thank you, Charlie Boxwood.  You’re my second favorite guy.”  I smile even bigger and for some weird reason start to feel choked
up.  “I love you, too.”  I say the words he didn’t say and we both sob a bit.

Davis appears, along with Jules
, and breaks up our impending cry fest.

“What’s going on over here?  Who loves who?”  Davis sounds slightly irritated.

I break any tension with, “I love all of you,” and then proceed to hug and kiss Davis, Jules and Charlie.  “Let’s get out of here and celebrate.”  I really have no idea where we will go.  With all that has been going on, I hadn’t thought to plan any sort of post-Graduation party or reception or anything.

Davis turns me slightly and I see his parents waiting a few feet away.  No one is near them.
My parents are talking to Mel and Kris and Smitty’s parents.  “I think they’d like to congratulate you,” Davis bends slightly and whispers sideways into my ear.  I shiver a little.  It never ceases to amaze me that at the most average of times with the most average of words, Davis’ voice, his breath on my face and ear can make be so excited, so hungry for more of him.  I shake that thought off and go to the Brandons.

James Brandon, the former Lt. Governor, seated in his fancy motorized wheelchair, looks dashing in his dark suit and tie.  He is beaming as I approach.  When I get close enough, he reaches out his stronger hand.  I take it and bend to give him a kiss on the cheek.  “There she is, ther
e’s my future daughter-in-law.  Congratulations, Biz.  It’s a big day, huh?”  he says.  I nod. “And more big days to come…”  James winks at me.  It makes me smile bigger.  Honestly, my emotions are sort of all over the place.  Practically crying with Charlie, now bursting with joy with Mr. Brandon.  I straighten up and come face to face with Meredith Brandon, Davis’ mother.  Perfect Meredith Brandon.  Perfectly groomed.  Perfectly coiffed.  She is smiling at me – a perfectly fake, practiced smile.

             
“Biz, congratulations.”  That’s it.  That’s all she says, along with her fingertips-only handshake.  No hug.  It is perfectly awkward.   Thank God Davis has arrived.  He puts his arm around his mother’s waist and then his other around me and pulls me next to him.  Flash! Flash!  And poof, I appear in my first Brandon family picture.  I hope I don’t look like a complete idiot.  It’s anyone’s guess what expression has been captured.  Smile, surprise, frown.  I only hope I wasn’t rolling my eyes at Meredith when it was taken!

             
Any concern I had about where we would all go after graduation was not needed.  Davis, of course, planned everything.  He conspired with Jules and they arranged to have the outdoor patio area at The American Bistro reserved.  I don’t know who is paying for all of this, but there is an open bar and passed hors d’ouevres when we arrive.  Later a light buffet is served.  It is so nice and such a treat.  A beautiful closing to my college days.

***

              It was another late night.  This one much more celebratory than the somewhat tense night before.  The party moved to our condo after The Bistro and got a lot more casual.  Smitty and Kathleen wound up staying in the guest room.  The decision for Kathleen to move in was finalized. 

              My parents are leaving early this morning, so I said good-bye to them last night.  Davis is caravanning back to the Chicago area with his parents on Monday morning.  We have one more day together.  There was no discussion about it, I guess we just reached some sort of silent agreement that no plans were to be made for today, our last today together for twelve weeks.  We spend the day doing ordinary, everyday things.  In the morning – eating breakfast, lying in bed, watching the news.  Once we finally extract ourselves from the bed sheets after some very sweet kissing and cuddling, Davis begins to pack.  I help him find things or sit and watch the process that, will eventually end in him leaving.  We don’t say much, but are never out of each other’s sight and are frequently touching or nudging one another.  It feels like we are trying to catch each crumb of one another while we can.  While Davis is packing, I drag a box or two into the bedroom and unpack my things. 

There is something strange about settling in while
at the same time, getting ready to let him go.  I can’t even pinpoint what is going on in my head and heart.  It’s on the verge of panic, but not really.  I thought I had felt heartbreak before with Neil, but this is altogether tougher.  I am not angry, I am not hurt, I’m proud and hopeful and sad all at the same time.  I am excited for Davis’ new adventure and starting my own in two days.  I just wish we were doing it together.  I’ve been so preoccupied with graduation and Davis leaving. 

I haven’t thought much about my new
job at The Forest Park Theatre.  I start on Tuesday.  All I know right now is that I am to be there at 8 am, when all the production assistants will be assigned their areas.  They asked a bunch of questions about interests and abilities at the interview and on a questionnaire I filled out and mailed in.  Sounds like they are invested in getting the right person doing the right job.

             
I move to the large walk-in closet I now share with Davis and begin organizing my clothes.  I have never had such a large place to keep my things.  I won’t need to put away clothes between seasons with all the room in here.  I empty two boxes of clothes, always with Davis in sight, just outside the door.  We keep looking at each other and giving small sad but reassuring smiles to one another.  When I hang up the last shirt from the last box, I turn to the doorway to glance out at him again.  I don’t have to look far.  Davis is standing in the doorway of the closet, leaning with his upper arm propped high up on the door jam and his ankles crossed.  His fitted t-shirt is pulling up to reveal his rippled lower abs and his happy trail, leading down to the edge of his boxers peeking out of his low slung jeans.  Bare feet.  I did it.  I, blatantly, took a quick “eye tour” of him, top to bottom.

             
He catches me with his shining green-eyed gaze, “You’ve been very quiet… too quiet.”

             
I stand almost frozen, taking him in.  I want to run into his arms, but if I do I’ll miss capturing this picture of him in my mind.  When I finally speak, I blather, the words just come out without thought, “My head and my heart are fighting.  My internal referee was working really hard at keeping them quiet.  I thought you wouldn’t notice.”

             
“Umm, the silence was deafening.”  Davis says with a smirk, “Now, put down that empty box and get over here, because even that little bit of chatter you just gave me has me turned on.”

             
I walk to him, my head cocked slightly, “Mavis … really, just a little talk from me?  That’s all you need?”  When I get to the closet door, I push him back slightly with two fingers and pin him against the door jam.  He chuckles at my girly aggression.

             
“Not ALL I need…” he replies, as I run my hands up and down his chest and he holds my upper arms. 

             
I look at his t-shirt.  It’s light brown and highlights his wide shoulders, biceps and pecs.  Speaking of pecs – emblazoned on them, on the shirt, is a picture of a chicken and a cow.  I look up at him in confusion.  “What’s up with the farm animal shirt?”  Davis chuckles even louder.

             
“Tell me what you see on it.”

             
“A chicken and a cow”

             
“Uh, huh,” He is leans forward and kisses me on the forehead and temple, while tugging my hips towards his, “and what color are the chicken and the cow?”

             
My core is warming as he pulls me closer.  I can actually
feel
him laugh.  I look at the t-shirt again.  “Brown.  Brown chicken, brown cow …so?”

             
Davis’ arms are completely around me, his hands have taken purchase on my ass and he is grinding into me.  He is completely hard.  The friction against my jeans and underwear make me hold my breath and exhale suddenly.

             
“Say it faster”

             
I do.  “Brown chicken, brown cow”

             
He nods for me to repeat it.  “Brown chicken, brown cow.”  Oh my God, it sounds like, “Bow-chicka-bow-wow” – the porn movie guitar riff.  I’ve never seen porn, but I’ve heard people sing that phrase before.  I finally get the joke.   I’m just about to laugh, but pause when a picture of Randall flashes in my mind.  Where did that come from?  I shake it off and push out a little laugh.  It feels a little fake, strained.  I check Davis’ face to see if he noticed my hesitation.  He didn’t.  He’s laughing harder that I finally “got” the t-shirt and is working his way down my neck with kisses.  It’s helping me to push away the Randall memory blip as I give into the feeling of Davis holding and touching me.

             
In between kissing and working on unfastening Davis’ jeans I ask, “
Where
do you get these shirts?”

             
“It’s my secret hobby.  Ever since you laughed at the first one, I’m on a mission to find more that make you smile,” he reveals.  I give him the big smile he’s worked for. 

“There’s my girl,” Davis tells me.