Page 39 of Night Songs

He continued, “If we were married, no one would ask you questions about boyfriends or snoop around your love life. And believe me, once this album comes out, they’ll be interested. They’ve been after me ever since my divorce.”

I finally felt brave enough to look over at him. He didn’t look disgusted or like he was trying to threaten me. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

“What about your mama?”

He smiled to himself. “Ma is very old. She has a great team of nurses that take care of her twenty-four hours a day. You won’t have to worry about her.”

The judgmental mother of my imagination now morphed into my great-grandmother, a woman older than pond water who spent my early childhood on the porch looking out at the mountains through milky blue eyes.

“Our marriage wouldn’t be traditional in many ways, but I hope it would be in this sense, that we could keep each other’s secrets.” He laid a hand on my arm, and it felt almost fatherly in its gentle warmth. When I looked into his eyes, they were open and empathetic, and I could feel that he accepted who I was, without saying it out loud or making a big deal of it.

My mouth filled with salt, and my eyes went cloudy. I swallowed back the tears and smiled at him. “Let me think about it.”

After Clayton dropped me off, I crept into Hess’s room and climbed under the covers with her. She was warm and heavy with sleep, and for a moment, I just nestled against her, feeling the length of her body against mine. She stirred and turned over, pulling me toward her.

I whispered in her ear about Clayton’s proposal. Her eyes opened, and she sat up with a hand against her forehead. After a while she whispered, “Well? Are you going to say yes?”

I thought we’d have more of a discussion before it came to the question. I would tell her I couldn’t do it, and she’d tell me that it was okay with her, and I’d protest a bit more, and she’d insist. She wasn’t following the script.

“We could be together, alone, all the time, without anyone watching us.”

“Except for Clayton and his mother.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about his mama. And Clayton is okay with it, that’s what I’m saying. He doesn’t care about us.”

“Are you going tosleepwith him?”

“What? No! Never.” We both giggled at the thought. Then Hess went serious again.

“Do you love him?”

What didIknow about love?

I never knew the love of my mama or daddy. I was treated like a worthless demon child by my aunt and uncle. I had a few cousins who were nice, but we were all fending for ourselves, trying to survive. I had to be selfish, and I couldn’t let them see under my skin.

What Hess and I had didn’t have a word. It contained too much and resembled nothing I’d ever seen between two people.

And as for Clayton, he was someone you got to know at a distance, and I didn’t think you could ever love someone like that, which is how he wanted it. To not love them was to respect their wishes.

“No. I barely know the man. But I trust that he won’t hurt me, or you. He’d only be doing this if he thought it was worth it.”

Hess turned away from me and went over to the curtained window facing the backyard. She pulled aside the fabric and gazed down.

I waited breathlessly with my arms wrapped around my knees, watching her back muscles for some sort of sign. I wondered if I had just ruined this beautiful thing between us, this pure, filling love that I didn’t deserve. I squeezed my knees tighter and imagined curling into a smaller and smaller shape until I disappeared.

Then she turned around, and there was a smile on her face. “Okay. I think you should say yes.” She came over and took my hands in hers. “Imagine the dress Phoebe will make for you. It will bedivine.”

I could see the strain in her smile, and there was something brittle about her excitement. But I was so relieved that I decided to pretend it was real.

And soon, it was, as we sat on the bed, dreaming up everything we wanted for the wedding.

As if it was our own.

11lulabelle

1967

FOURTEEN YEARS LEFT