Page 88 of This I Promise You
“I know, babe. But you gotta prepare yourself for anything. Just know that there’s a possibility he’s gonna slam the door in your face and call the cops or something. I don’t know.” Huxley Davenport, everyone! Ever the optimist, Giver of Pep Talks.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know. But I gotta try.”
“And E?”
I can’t even speak on that one, so I just shake my head and change topics. “We’re almost there.”
We cross the street and veer left to a small pathway. A sign that saysNelson-Atkins Museumgreets us as we walk under a copse of trees. The small path opens up to a much larger path lined perfectly with more trees, but we don’t go that way. I want her to take it in all its glory. I lead her forward until we hit the lawn. Huxley’s jaw drops.
The main lawn is atleasta quarter mile long as it leads up the hill to a large building reminiscent of the Lincoln Memorial, only bigger. Its massive pillars replicate etchings from some ancient world long since passed. Scattered throughout the lawn are giant-sized badminton birdie sculptures.
“Holyshit!” Huxley says.
“Toldja,” I say.
We walk around the museum grounds looking at all the sculptures. Huxley looks right at home with all the art. It’s kinda precious.
“Is that a labyrinth?!” Huxley scrunches her eyes.
“Yep—”
“Come on! Let’s go!” Huxley grabs my hand and pulls me along like a little kid in a candy store.
“Okay, okay.” I belly laugh.
We go through the all-glass labyrinth twice, and then race each other out of the entrance. Huxley pushes me into the grass and jumps on top of me and we roll around and land on our backs. My head on her stomach as we laugh like kids on the playground.
Once we sober slightly, we lie there looking up at the cloudless sky.
“Thanks for coming with me. It’s weird being back, but I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“It’s cool to see your world,” Huxley says. “Well, your world before me. And Easton because we both know eventually you’re going to get back together.We’reyour world now, bitch,” Huxley states.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We’re quiet for a moment.
“I used to spend a lot of time here studying for classes. I would lay a blanket next to one of the birdie statues and spend my afternoons reading or contemplating how to deal with my parents. My dad was…awful. But he still paid for everything and gave me a monthly allowance. I didn’t know how I could ever get out from under his thumb. My mom didn’t do shit, like, literally nothing. And that is just as bad to me.”
“Do you think she knew?” Huxley asks.
“Not at first, no. But there was no way she didn’t eventually. How she stayed with that fucking monster, I’ll never know.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay.” I reach up and twirl my fingers around Huxley’s curls. “I’ll never be able to repay you for your help, Hux.”
“It’s not necessary, Paul. I want what’s best for you— Wait…” Huxley props herself up on her elbow and looks at me in bewilderment. “You just called me Hux! You never use nicknames.”
“Guess that means you’re kinda growing on me then.”
Huxley hits me and lays back down. “’Bout fucking time.” Then she falls silent for a moment. “Devina and I broke up.”
I bolt upright.
“Wait, what? Why?”
Huxley sits up too and shrugs. “We just wanted different things. Mostly I wasn’t in love with her. So we ended it.”
