Present

Devyn

I think I'm finally over the shock of what has happened.

   Yes, over the last two weeks, Oz not only found a Realtor and started looking at houses - without me - but he put the offer in on this one. That afternoon after lunch with his friends, he was going to bring me here to walk through it and see what I thought of it - but he'd actually already bought it. His parents had money saved for him to get his first house, so as soon as the offer was accepted, things were in motion.

  Oz, my fiance, bought a house in Plainsboro. For us.

  It's a beautiful house. I even feel good in it, which is big. It has this big open floor plan on the main floor, big windows and a huge kitchen with new appliances. There's an eat-in kitchen and a full dining room and upstairs, there's three bedrooms and a huge bathroom with this tub, with jets. It's bigger than my mom's house. It's too big for Oz and I, but I really like it. I just don't like that he did all this without me.

  But it's been a couple of weeks. Christmas is quickly approaching and though we don't get to move in to the house until early January, we've been over there a few times, to try to make plans for each of the rooms. I'm falling in love with the house. My mom is obsessed with it, and it's only twenty minutes from Trenton. Oz thought everything through. He loves me enough to think about all the little things - like how there's a finished basement with an office, so I can do my planning for my classes and have a quiet place to work and play music. He picked a perfect location, still close enough to my mom and my school.

  He didn't leave me out of the process on purpose. He thought it would be better this way. Easier. He thought he was doing me a favour. He's not wrong. But that doesn't mean it doesn't make me a little mad. Or sad. Or something.

  The week before Christmas is our last day of classes, for two weeks. Getting that break in December and the first week of January is like a breath of fresh air that I didn't know I needed. On our first day off with no school, Oz and I head to the mall to do some Christmas shopping. We just have to buy for my mom, because he already bought for his parents and his younger sister and shipped the gifts to Florida, weeks ago. Once we pick out a nice sweater and a necklace from a fancy jewelry shop for my mom, we decide to go our separate ways for a bit, to find gifts for each other. Christmas is only five days away but we haven't had a chance to get out shopping yet.

  Oz is impossible to buy for, because he always buys himself whatever he wants or needs. I did make a mental note recently that he needed new socks and underwear, so I'm buying him them. To go with it, I decide on a gift card to the Sports Apparel store he likes to buy clothes at. When we meet up again, he's got a small bag that he's got behind his back, so I don't see.

  "How 'bout a smoothie for the road?" he asks, knowing I'll agree.

  There's a Blend in the mall, which is my favorite smoothie place in the area. He knows this and he knows that I want one. He slips his hand into mine before leading me down towards the food court. His hands is warm and fits into mine just right. The knowing smile he gives me, the kiss on the cheek he offers before we get in line at Blend - it's all the sweet little things that I should love and appreciate. And I do.

  Oz orders two smoothies without even asking me - his, strawberry banana and mine, pineapple coconut. He knows me. He knows what I like and he he pays attention. I've got this great, wonderful man right here, by my side. I'm lucky to have met him and for this life we share together.  

   Why the hell am I so unwilling to be happy about the engagement and the house? These are things I always wanted. I knew I wanted to get married young-ish and have kids. I also always thought I'd be a composer or be much more involved in the music scene than I currently am. But that's not anyone's fault. My life didn't go how I thought it would because something tragic happened to my family when I was in college. Plans change. And I didn't plan to meet Oz that afternoon at the teacher's workshop, but things just happen sometimes. Meeting Oz was a great thing that happened to me.

  Maybe I'd be happier about these things if I had more people to be excited about it with me. Maybe I really just need some real friends. It feels weird to admit this to myself because I've gone so many years without a real support system. I mean, besides my mom and now Oz. The fact that that could be what is missing? It seems crazy.

  "You were always a bit of a wallflower, Devyn," my mom tells me later that evening, once I am back at her house.

  Oz came in to visit for a bit before driving back to Edison for the night. Tomorrow, we're going to our house to meet with the contractor. Now, my mom and I are sitting in the tiny kitchen, her hands wrapped around a coffee mug as usual. I have a weird feeling in my chest, like this house is no longer mine. It's weird how now that Oz and I have a house together - but we don't live there yet - I don't feel like I belong anywhere. It's like a strange, uncomfortable in-between.

  I brought up my concerns with my mom, as I often do. She's not just my mom, she's my friend. She's kind of my only friend, and the only family I have left, besides Oz. She knows me and she tells me the truth when I need to hear it. Today, that's exactly what I need.

  "Yeah," I agree, but suddenly I'm thinking about my teenage years and how I was not really a wallflower at all. Up until I was fifteen, yes. But those years that followed, a lot of things changed for me.

  "I just mean... you had Pierce, and then Macy... and not a whole lot of other friends." She isn't trying to be rude, she's just stating facts.

  "I know," I agree again, but now I'm really about those teenage years, those friends, even more. "Even when I was in New York... I wasn't all that social. I guess that's just how I am."

  "It's not a bad thing to have a few people who really love you, Devyn." My mom is so good at knowing what to say. Knowing how to make me feel better.

  "I know it's not. I just... I can't seem to get... I guess I'm just not as excited about all these changes as I feel like I should be," I admit, and then avoid her eyes for a moment.

  "Wait. What do you mean?" she wants to know, her eyes trying to meet mine.

  I sigh, then move my coffee mug around a bit. "It's not anything bad. I just... I want to be like freaking out with happiness about the house and the engagement, you know?"

  "Not everyone reacts the same way to things, you know that."

  She's so right about that. Her and I had very different ways of dealing with our loss and our grieving process, after the accident. I didn't feel like we even understood each other during that time. She was a mess, all of the time. She wanted people around, to support us. I was in shock and angry at the world and I didn't want to be around anyone, for a long time. 

  When our eyes meet again, I know she understands me now. She smiles and then reaches out to squeeze my hand.

  "I know you don't need to hear it, Devyn, but Oz loves you. And even more, he cares deeply about you. Those aren't the same thing." She shakes her head, then goes on.

  "I know, Mom. Those are not things that I'm doubting," I tell her.

  "What in the world are you doubting, then?" she wants to know.

  I don't have the answer, at least not one she'd want to hear.

  I don't think I deserve to be happy.

  Instead, I just shrug. "I think I really need some friends. Know anyone?"

  She lets out a bit of a laugh. "My friends are in their fifties, I don't think you want to hang out with them. What about Janie? I thought the two of you were close?"

  Janie Clark and I were friends, sure. She's an English teacher at my school and she's only a year older than me. We taught a lot of the same kids, last year. But for some reason, she stopped wanting to get together outside of school, and at school, she pretty much ignores me. It happened early in the fall and I never did find out why. Being how I am, I never really let it bother me. Until now.

  "We weren't really close," I say plainly, not telling her the full truth.

  My mom takes this in. "I have an idea, but I don't know if you'd like it."

  "Okay?"

  "You could come with me to my writer's workshop this week. It's the last one until the New Year... a lot of my writer friends are young, like you."

  "I'm not a writer, Mom."

  "No, but that doesn't matter. It's just to bounce ideas off each other and get together once a week." She's waiting for my reaction. "We have coffee and tea and snacks."

  "Like an adult play date?" I ask, then muffle a laugh.

  She looks surprised by this, but then nods. "Actually, yes."

  "Okay," I agree, then shrug. "I'll come."

  "Good. It's tomorrow at 6P.M."

*

  After we finish with the contractor at the house, Oz wants to go back to Edison for a few days. Christmas is on Friday and it's Tuesday. We have already decided to stay at my mom's Thursday night - Christmas Eve - and have Christmas with her. It'll be a new thing for us all. Last Christmas, Oz and I were pretty new and we didn't spend Christmas Day together. He flew down to Florida to spend a few days with his parents and younger sister and my mom and I had Christmas together.

  My mom's still working this week, at the newspaper office she works at. She's mostly a freelance writer and editor, and her spare time is spent working on her own books. It's what she always wanted to do and even after all of our tragedy, she's made it for herself. She's an inspiration to me.

  But all I've been thinking about all day is that damn writer's workshop that my mom invited me to. Tonight.

  "I am going out with my mom tonight, actually," I tell Oz, as we get back into his car, after our meeting with the contractor.

  Oz starts the car and then looks at me, confused. "What are you guys doing?"

  I could lie. I could say we planned dinner together. He wouldn't care. But I don't like lying, especially since my mom never lies. It would probably come back to bite me in the ass.

  "She has her writer's workshop, and she invited me," I tell him, trying to sound casual about it.

  "Wait, what? You're writing now?" he asks, surprised. "I mean, that's cool, but I didn't know."

  "No, I'm not," I say quickly. He's glances over before returning his attention to the road. "I'll come out to Edison tomorrow, so we'll have all day before we go back to Trenton on Christmas Eve."

  He nods and I know he's thinking this over. "Okay, that's fine. I'll take you back to your mom's now."

  "Thanks." I force a smile and then look out the side window for a minute. I can just tell this conversation isn't over.

  "Just curious, why are you going to the workshop?" he asks, just as I knew he would. He's too curious not to ask.

  "Oz..." I start, because I really don't want to get into this with him. Especially not when I'm stuck in the car beside him.

  "I mean, I don't care. Honestly. I'm just curious." He keeps his eyes on the road as he says this. "Obviously I'd rather take you back to Edison, right now."

  "I know that," I say quickly. "My mom invited me to go to the workshop with her... so I can meet some of the people there." It feels weird telling him this.

  He clicks on his turn signal and keeps a straight face, not looking at me. "Meet people? At the writer's workshop? I'm sorry, but I'm confused."

  I swallow hard because now I know I have to really do this. "Oz, I feel like I don't really have friends, and that's always been okay for me, but now... I just feel like I want to have some people, some friends, that I can talk to."

  "Dev, babe, where is this coming from?" he asks right away, suddenly panicking. "You have friends. My friends are your friends. You have me."

  "Yeah, I know." I sigh and then squeeze my hands together in my lap. He doesn't get it and I don't know how to explain it to him without offending him.

  We're almost back to Trenton now, almost at my mom's house. But we need this conversation to finish. If there's one thing I know, it's that leaving things left unsaid doesn't work in relationships. Ever. I want Oz to say something. I want him to tell me he's on board with me going to the workshop, or encourage me to go meet new people. He doesn't.  

  When we are are idling on the road in front of the house, he turns his body to face mine. I can see it all over his face, he still doesn't understand.

  "Okay, well, have fun," he says, forcing a smile.

  He's not one for confrontation, either, but I can tell he's not happy about this. I know him well enough to know when he's upset. He won't show it, though. He's not that type of guy.

  "Okay," I repeat, and then unbuckle and lean in close to him. "I love you. I'll see you tomorrow."

  He nods and kisses me. He doesn't pull away too soon. He doesn't give me any reason to think he's upset with me. He even gives me an extra kiss on the cheek before I pull away and push open the car door.

  As I'm getting out, he says, "Text me when you're on your way."

  I give him a nod and a wave as I walk up towards the house and he smiles back as he drives off down the street.