I think I’ll ignore it, that I will tell him that I’ll ask him something later. When I open my mouth to speak, of course, what I really wanted to say falls out. It’s my curse.
“What did you and Jonah talk about when he called?” I whisper into his neck, and I feel him tense.
“You heard that, huh? I thought you had,” he says, his voice even.
I push off of him, needing to see his face. When I do, it’s smiling weakly at me, and his hand brushes my hair again. “I didn’t mean to,” I say quickly. “I just… shit. I don’t know. I—I wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw the expression on your face when you answered the phone and….” I trail off, unsure of how to continue.
His grin widens, and it almost looks normal again. “You wanted to make sure I was okay? I’m a big boy, Bear. I know how to handle those things.”
I scowl at him, not really meaning it. “I could tell you the same thing about me. That doesn’t stop you from doing it anyways.”
Otter shakes his head. “I know, I know.” He shrugs. “I can’t help it, though.”
“Then let me worry about you,” I tell him seriously. “Stop thinking I’m the only one who can break here.”
He snorts. “Yes, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So,” I say, raising my eyebrows, “are you going to tell me or what?”
He sighs, ever briefly. “That was the first time I’ve talked to him since I left,” he says. “He’s called a few times and left a couple of messages, but I’ve never called him back. It’s not really fair, I guess, but I didn’t know what to say to him. He’s—he was—a big part of my life. You can’t just wipe somebody completely away and think it won’t have repercussions.”
“Kind of like how we couldn’t do that to each other?” I ask, trying to keep the hopefulness out of my voice.
He shakes his head, and I grow cold. “It’s not like that at all, Bear. You have to want to be rid of something like that to be able to do that. I never wanted to brush you away. Not fully. I told myself I did, and God knows I tried, but it didn’t happen.
“And I’m not saying that’s what I want to do to him; I don’t. I’m not saying that I want to be with him or anything, but when you share as much with a person as we’ve shared, it almost becomes impossible.”
I keep a straight face, but inside there’s a storm brewing over the ocean. Thunder rumbles, and it’s distant, but the winds are blowing again, and I fear it’s bringing the storm inland.
“I think I did love him in a certain way,” he says softly, staring off as if remembering some happy memory. “I think I did as best as I could. But when he called, it was almost like talking to a stranger. I couldn’t think of what to say, how to act. Then he starts asking me when I’m coming home, how much longer I’ll be here. He tells me he thought I just needed a little time away, to work through whatever it is I need to work through. And I felt a little sad then, Bear. I say this not to hurt you but because I want to be honest. I felt a little sad because I knew that I would never consider him my home again. It was like a door had shut and was locked, and I don’t have the key to open it.” He sighs again and rubs my cheek. “I didn’t know how to tell him this, so… I didn’t. I told him that I didn’t want to talk anymore and that I would call him soon.” He looks away again. “I don’t know what I’d say if I did,” he mutters, more to himself than to me.
“What do you want to say to him?” I say slowly, the water warm as it washes around my ankles. I’m starting to wade out, but I can’t stop. The wind picks up and whips briefly through my hair. “What would you say if you could say anything?”
“Honestly?” he asks, and I nod, trying to keep the storm from my eyes. “I would thank him,” he says. “I would thank him for what he has given me over the past couple of years. I would tell him I want nothing more than for him to be happy, like he made me happy. I would tell him that I wish that I could have given him everything he gave me.” He rubs his eyes with his big hand. I kiss his chest and an irrational thought bowls through me, telling me to bite him, to mark him as my own. I’ve never met the man we are speaking about, but I hate him. I hate that he’s been able to share in a part of Otter’s life that I never will. I hate him because I drove Otter to him. I hate him because he doesn’t sound like somebody who should be hated.
“But,” Otter says, “the main thing I would want to tell him is that he shouldn’t wait for me anymore. That looking back, I feel like I was just biding my time. That sounds harsh, I know”—(I actually think it sounds perfectly
fine)—“but it’s the truth. He gave me a lot, but it would have never been enough.” He looks thoughtful as he gazes back down at me. “It would never have been enough,” he tells me,” because it would never have been you.”
“Are you sure that I can be?” I ask hoarsely. “Are you sure I can be enough for you?”
He captures my face in his hands, and once again there’s only him in the world. His eyes flash, and at least for now, I feel the storm recede. The waters dry and the clouds dissipate, and I think it’s because of him.
“Whether I knew it completely or not,” he tells me, “you were the one I compared everything to. You will always be enough because it’s you I’ve always wanted. I still don’t think that any of this is real, that I’ll wake up, and I’ll be in San Diego, and it will be back where it was. Where we haven’t spoken in years, and all I have of you is a picture, and all you have of me is a letter.” His voice becomes soft and thick. “If that happens, if I wake up and none of this is true, I will be on the next flight here to make sure it all becomes real. I will find you. You have to believe me when I say that, Papa Bear.”
“Why, though, Otter? Why do you think that?” I ask him, suddenly needing to be sure, needing him to say it. I know it’s there, lurking on his lips, and even if I can’t say it back, I need to hear him say it, to give me the assurance my heart is aching for. “I’ve never done anything to deserve you,” I say, sniffing. “I chased you away, and you still came back.”
He grins, and it’s the Otter grin. “Why? Why do I think that? Why did I come crawling back, practically begging for forgiveness? I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you knew.”
“Say it!” I cry at him.
He leans in and kisses me, long and deep. I press back, hard and blind. When he pulls away, it’s only slightly, and his lips are still touching mine. I feel them move when he speaks.
“Oh, Bear. It’s always been you. It will always be you. I love you, and that’s why it will always be enough.”
8.
Where Bear Stares