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Authors: Kimberly Novosel

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BOOK: Loved - A Novel
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              The party—my birthday party—was a bust. There were very few people there who I knew and even fewer who cared that it was my birthday. Chase never showed up. He didn’t even call to explain. I had a few drinks and sat quietly on the couch alone. I’m not good at pretending that I’m having fun when I’m not so I went to Meredith’s room to lie down.

              I thought of all of the dreams that I had with Chase, I thought of our apartment in the city, and I decided to let it all go.  Whatever path my life would take was the right path for me.  It really was time to move on. I was ready.
I am ready. I am fine.

              I really was.

             

              Back in Nashville, I was in full Chad mode. “I am definitely falling in love,” I wrote in my journal. He took me to a party to introduce me to his friends and band mates. Lipscomb students are very political compared to Belmont students. Belmont students choose their friends by creative chemistry. Lipscomb students choose their friends by where your father works or what social club your mother is in.

              Regardless of their politics, they seemed to like me. I got smiles and raised eyebrows, and “so you’re the girl Chad is dating” comments. We were sitting on the couch in our own little world when a thin girl with curly blonde hair and dimples burst into the room and proclaimed, “You’re Chad’s girlfriend!” I felt my face get hot and I smiled at her. Then, I looked helplessly at him. “Well, if that’s okay with you,” he said, “I’ve been saying that for a few days now.”

              Yes, that’s okay with me.

 

              For Thanksgiving, I cooked the turkey at my apartment and drove it over to Sophie’s, where we ate while watching
Steel Magnolias
. Chad came over later that night.  We were kissing in my bedroom when he suddenly lifted me off the bed a little and pressed me against the wall. Not violently but playfully. He looked me in the eyes, a mischievous grin pulling the side of lips. Then he kissed me deeply. I was elated and I couldn’t get enough of him. 

I couldn’t wait for what was next, specifically, because I felt like I was ready to have sex with him. I had waited much longer with other boyfriends, some of whom I lost because of it. This was what I imagined an adult relationship was supposed to be like. Still, he wasn’t taking things that far.

              One Friday night, we went downtown to one of the Nashville’s honky-tonk bars and had a few drinks with some of his friends. Later, after the usual round of kissing, I reached for the elastic waistband of his boxers. He moved my hand away and put my arms around him instead.  Then, he pulled his face away just enough to look me in the eyes and he said gently, “First the ring, then the thing.”

              I could not believe it. I had spent the last six years turning guys down or wishing I would, wanting and hoping to wait and the one time I was willing and wanting sex in a relationship, I was told to back the truck up?  I felt dirty, I felt hurt and then I was amazed. I was touched that someone saw me as precious and on top of that, I was excited at the idea that this man might just marry me. This amazing, caring, smart, sexy man might marry me.

 

I met his parents, which was hard to avoid for long because he lived with them. He went to school just a few miles from his parents’ house so he planned to live at home until he graduated the following spring in order to save up some money.

              They were so nice. Right away, I found them very welcoming and easy to talk to. They reminded me a little of my own parents—if my mom loved cooking and crafts and if my dad carried a highball glass around. He also had an older brother, James, who was applying to law schools. James was extremely proper and educated, always using big words but never being a showoff. We got along particularly well; he took an interest in me and I enjoyed our conversations.

              I really fit in with his family and
with his life and I was glad he had family values like mine. His parents were still together, involved in church and
supportive of his dreams.  They were the kind of family that I was looking to be a part of some day. I was finally making the right decisions when it came to love.

              I watched myself change, blossoming into a woman in love and discovering not just what I wanted out of life someday but what was actually within my reach. I envisioned us as Chris Robinson and Kate Hudson; he was the quiet classic rock star and she was a beautiful flower child. They had just enough educated hippie and just enough rock and roll, and we were going to be just like them.

              I spent a lot of my time with Chad or with Sophie, but I still had Anna and Lacey and groups of other friends too. It was a much healthier situation than I’d been in with Brian and Megan, when we were all so dependent on each other.

              I still loved Chase, though it wasn’t the same. I had come to accept that things hadn’t worked between us, but I did consider him to be the only guy before Chad I had really loved, and I knew it was okay that he would always be special to me. We weren’t really speaking but not because we were still punishing each other.

 

 

             
December, 2004

              One evening we rented the movie,
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
. I thought the theme of the movie was an incredible idea—to erase someone from your memory and to go on living as if they’d never existed.  I wondered if I would really go back to who I was before I’d met the person who’d been erased. Or would I always wonder how on earth I’d gotten so into rock music, and why it was that I so adored all things dramatic.

              I did move on from Chase, but I didn’t erase him. As I reflected on the idea, I decided that no matter what happened, I would never have erase one moment of Chase in my life. He shaped me like he had written me in a song. I breathed life from his words and I danced to his melody. I was thankful for it, and Chad met me there, in a place that I wouldn’t have been if it weren’t for Chase.  And he was falling in love with me, just as I was with him.

 

              One night Chad pointed out a rendering of Nashville’s Union Station hotel that was framed above his parent’s couch.

              “There’s a restaurant inside there,” he said. “That’s where I’m going to propose to you.” 

              He caught me off guard but his statement bothered me for more reasons than just surprise. My mind reeled.
What for? Because it’s fancy and expensive? That’s not personal. We’ve never been there before. I have no emotional connection to that place. 

              Dad put a ring on Mom’s finger one day while she was napping on his couch—sweet, private, personal and unexpected. I just figured that I would let him do his thing. I did believe I was going to marry him, but I also didn’t feel that there was any hurry.

 

              Chad was gone over New Year’s Eve, recording with his band in Texas.  I tried not to miss him. I didn’t want to be so vulnerable. I didn’t want to need anybody. Sometimes I focused so hard on not being one thing that I put myself in danger of leaning too far in the other direction.  Sometimes I forgot that I didn’t have to be perfect.

              Chad was a wreck without me in Texas. They were in a cabin and he didn’t have very good cell phone service so we didn’t get to talk very much. When he got back he told me he was lonely and he thought maybe I had found someone else while he was gone. I told him that was ridiculous and he was such a fabulous boyfriend that we could clone him and sell the clones on eBay. He told me that he gave the band guys a heads-up that he was going to be the kind of rock star husband who would need to have his wife on the road with him. I said that was okay with me.

              We just knew that this was it. I couldn’t believe how my life had changed so quickly and without warning, how what we had just started was bigger than both of us could have imagined.

              Over the next few weeks, I got several phone calls from out of town with big news. My first boyfriend’s newest girlfriend was pregnant, and Brittany was engaged to her boyfriend in Ohio. College was beginning to feel like it was so long ago. It hadn’t even been a year since I had graduated but I was paying my own electric bill and my boyfriend had a key to my apartment. This was definitely a new level of adulthood.

 

             
January, 2005.

One colorless winter Friday, I was working at Betsey Johnson when two women walked in. It was a heart-stopping moment as I realized one of them was one of my favorite songwriters of all time. I had just been telling my manager, Lily, how I was going to see Patty Griffin play the Opry the next night, and having never seen her play live before, I was extraordinarily excited.

              There she was in my store, looking at the clothing on my racks. I turned to Lily and whispered the woman’s name; my eyes, I’m sure, were bigger than usual. I excused myself to the back room to collect my wits and call Sophie. I was going to get her out of class if I had to. Amazingly, she had just pulled into the mall parking lot. I hung up the phone and took a few deep breaths, and then I went back out to attempt some kind of normalcy while talking to the woman who wrote some of the most genius lyrics I’d ever heard.

 

              It’s funny how the morning turns a love to shame

              Disguised and disfigured

And you thought I tasted like rain

 

I had trouble making conversation with her as easily as I would a normal customer. All of a sudden no words came to mind that sounded right in my mouth. She was tiny, fragile and her curly auburn hair seemed to sum her up—untamed and fiery. I did manage to take the dress and jacket she had picked out to the fitting room, and to ask her through the rose printed curtain how she like the outfits.  She bought the green Battenberg jacket. As she walked away, Sophie, who had been casually browsing racks, and I beamed at each other. I said a silent prayer that she would wear the jacket at the Opry the next night.

 

              A few nights later, Chad and I were lounging on my bed when we got a call from a friend that Trey Anastasio, lead singer of his favorite band,
Phish
, was at the Tin Roof.  To both have a chance to meet our heroes in the same week was unfathomable. We were up and running to Chad’s black Jeep within minutes. It was a good fifteen minute drive to the Tin Roof with light traffic. Trey could be anywhere by then but it was worth a try.

              The bar was crowded. We made our way to the back room and we saw Trey talking with a few people. Chad and I found a spot to stand near him, where we would be able to speak to him when his conversation with the other folks was over.

              When we had our chance to say hello, I introduced myself along with Chad and then stepped back a little to let him have his moment. “I just wanted to say thanks, man. I’m breaking out onto the jam scene here in Nashville and you’ve opened a lot of doors for me.” Chad said to him. Trey seemed honestly humbled and touched. I was impressed that Chad handled the situation so well.

              If we had been having sex, we would have had very good sex that night.

 

              The next day Chase emailed me. I sat and looked at his name on the screen for a few moments before opening the message. What would he have to say? How would it make me feel? I didn’t want to have “Chase days” like I used to. I was really happy with Chad. That was where I wanted to be. I braced myself and I read.

 

Jan 19, 2005

I just wanted to say I’m sorry for blowing you off. You deserve better than me and I hope you’ve found it. I made the mistake of getting back together with Jana, who ended up cheating on me with some guy that has a stuttering problem. How’s your perfect life? How’s the man of your dreams?  I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to be so bitter, it’s just coming out that way and I know that everything I don’t like in my own life is all my own fault. Anyway, I’m sorry and I hope you can forgive me someday.

Thanks for reading.

Chase

 

              I was sorry that he was unhappy, but I wasn’t sorry that I was happy. I had tried so hard but I couldn’t give him whatever it was that he needed. I couldn’t save him from himself. I wanted to write back, to give him a nod of thanks for offering an apology but not to offer friendship. As much as I wanted him to be in my life, I knew it would be dangerous. Feeling angry with him was a kind of protection and now his apology was taking that away from me. I didn’t want to put myself into a situation where feelings for him could flood back into my heart. I found someone I loved.

              Chad had something to offer me. He and I had a future. This was a relationship based not only on feelings or compatibility of interests but on the intersecting of our visions for our lives. I had grown up and I needed something different out of love than I had before.

 

              Chad had started tanning and he’d gained a bit of muscle weight. He grew his facial hair from the bird-shaped goatee into a full, neatly trimmed beard, which I had my fingers in every chance I got. Oh, I loved that beard. I loved kissing him. I loved looking at him. I loved him.

              Still, we had not said “I love you,” and I wasn’t sure why. It was obvious that we both felt it, and he had made references to it several times. I sure as heck wasn’t going to say it first. We had one moment when we were lying together, looking into each other’s eyes, and he said, “You’re so in love.” I had no witty retort; he was absolutely right, but he had the same look in his eyes. “You’re in love too.” He turned red as a rose.

              While all this being in love was going on, Sophie’s most recent boyfriend had cheated on her and they broke up.  She’d been through quite a lot since I met Chad. One guy broke up with her because Jesus told him to, and then this one cheated on her. It was hard for me to watch her be so beaten down by love when it was lifting me to new heights, but we all get our turns, don’t we?

BOOK: Loved - A Novel
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