Hey, Babe, good morning, heading to the airport.
Her reply was immediate.
Can’t wait until you’re here. Be safe.
I hadn’t slept much. I’d been afraid of oversleeping. Afraid my hair wasn’t going to cooperate. I only had the hotel’s hair dryer, and it might not give my hair as much body as mine did.
I’d been wide awake already when Tim’s text came through telling me that he was on his way.
I flew out of bed and into the shower.
What if my hand were shaking so much I couldn’t apply my eyeliner? I thought about the jeans I’d chosen. They were too long—all my pants were, but I had high-heeled boots to wear with them. And the shirt. One of my favorites. It was blue with muted flowers in green and yellow. It had gauze sleeves and sequins and fit me well enough to show Tim that I was thinner now than I’d been at eighteen. The shirt covered the top of my jeans, but only if I didn’t raise my arms.
I was doing everything I could not to think about the things I had to tell him. And not to think about his body—wanting my body.
I bathed with extra care, making certain that every part of my body received proper attention. I shaved. I left the conditioner in my hair a little longer. I had to be perfect.
Like I could somehow make up for my sexual imperfections, my inability to feel desire during intercourse, if I could just look good enough.
Not that we were going to have intercourse. We weren’t. Yet. But it would come up at some point. I could count on that. This was Tim and me.
Unless, after he’d heard about James, he didn’t want to touch me at all.
Hair and makeup application all went as planned. Easily. The Sorvelli jewelry looked perfect. I had three piercings in each ear. And matching earrings for each. Would he think that I was too over-the-top? Be turned off by that many holes in my ears?
And then I paced. Peered out my window. Watched the clock.
I couldn’t believe that in less than an hour I was going to be seeing Tim Barney—and was afraid I’d wake up and find out that the past three weeks had been a very, very cruel dream.
My phone beeped a text.
“Just landed.”
I was never going to breathe normally again.
A few minutes later, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“What’s up?”
My heart settled. All fear disappeared as I heard his voice. This was no stranger from thirty years ago. This was Tim. My Tim.
He told me that he was on his way to get the car he’d rented.
Life’s tragedies, damaged psyches, worries about difficult conversations all faded away. This was my Tim. And after twenty-seven long, desolate years, I was finally going to be where I’d always belonged.
In Tim Barney’s arms again.
Holding on.
And being held.
He pulled into her hotel, parked the car, and went straight to the elevator, pushing the button for the fifth floor, loving the fact that he already knew that Tara didn’t like the lower floors in hotels. Something about being up high put her at ease.
He found her room and then dialed her phone.
He’d had this crazy idea that if he surprised her, if she was shocked when she saw him, she wouldn’t be so nervous.