“I think I can do that,” I tell Donna. “A little bit at a time.”
Seven
Shawn
Aya drives us back to the lodge and I’m quiet the entire time. I’m lost in my thoughts, images of my mother in her trailer with her tea and her cats swirling around in my brain. The combination of relief and anger is maddening. I’m happy that she’s safe and I’m glad that I saw her today. And I’m glad that she apologized.
And I’m glad that I didn’t feel compelled to forgive her.
“How do you feel?” Aya asks as we hit the dirt road to the parking lot in front of the lodge.
I shrug. I don’t know. Truly.
“I think….” she starts, cautiously, “I think that I know a little bit about what you’re going through.”
“Aya…”
“Hear me out.”
She takes a deep breath. I know Aya has been through a lot in her life, but I’m failing to see how our situations are similar.
“I think that what you’re feeling now is a little bit like what I felt when I got back from Seoul last year.”
I narrow my eyes at her.
In effort to prove myself to Aya, I sent her and her mother on a trip to South Korea so that Aya could see the city where she was born and maybe tap into a part of herself that I knew she felt was missing. When she came back, I remember picking her up from the airport and she was all smiles. She held me tightly and thanked me over and over again.
“I thought you had a good time in Korea,” I say, slowly, wondering if I read that entire interaction dead wrong.
“No, I did. I totally did, but… Okay, I thought when I was there, I was going to immediately feel something when I got off the plane. And I didn’t.”
“What did you think you’d feel?”
“I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” she muses. “Something… big. Like… I thought I’d feel like… More complete.”
“Hm…”
“I think I’ve always felt like a part of me was missing and that there was a side of myself that I didn’t know yet,” she says, more sure of herself this time. “I thought that going to the place I was born would make that feeling go away.”
“And it didn’t?”
She shakes her head no.
“And it took me a long time to realize why,” she continues.
“Okay… So… why?”
“Because nothing was ever missing.”
I look at my wife, blinking at her in disbelief. I shake my head, thinking back to being a teenager and not having a mother. Being one of the only kids in my class without one. Feeling like something was missing.
“I’m not saying that your life would have turned out differently if your mom were around or if things had been different, Shawn. And I’m not trying to trivialize what you’re going through,” she assures me. “But your identity isn’t ‘the boy who grew up without a mother’ any more than mine is ‘the adopted Korean girl.’ Knowing your mom and letting her into your life will only add to something that’s already complete. It’s not integral to function.”
“Hm…”
Aya cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve been saying that a lot today.”
“I guess I have.”
Aya takes one of my hands in both of hers. Hers are so tiny, with nails painted a dark pink color. She squeezes and it makes me smile. She’s got more grip than you’d think a woman of her size would have.
“Did any of that make any sense at all?” she asks.
“I think so.”
“Good.”
She still isn’t letting go of my hands.
“Do you still want to marry me tomorrow?” she asks.
“More than anything in the world.”
“Phew,” she says, relieved.
It makes me laugh. Like there’s any doubt I don’t want to marry her. Well, remarry her.
“Do you regret not asking your mom to come?” she wonders.
“I’m not ready for that,” I answer, shaking my head. “But I did mean what I said before. I can do a little bit at a time.”
I expect Aya to smile, and she does, but there are tears in her eyes too.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers.
Eight
Aya
It’s been an emotional day and as soon as Shawn and I get inside our cabin, I start tugging at his clothes and pulling him towards the bathroom.
“Good idea,” he murmurs.
I turn on the water for the tub and start the bubbles.
“Yeah, I thought so,” I tell him, teasing. “You smell like…”
He kisses me, cutting me off, and I don’t care anymore.
“Thank you for today,” he whispers, lifting my tee shirt over my head slowly.
“Thank you for every day.”
Relieved to be out of the clothes I’ve been wearing since early this morning, I sink into the warm bath and close my eyes. The water level rises as Shawn gets in behind me. He wraps his arms around me, and I lean back, my head on his shoulder.
“I needed this,” he says.
“Me too.”
Shawn silently plays with my hair.
“You always do that,” I tell him, leaning into his touch.
“Do what?”
“Play with my hair. You do it when you’re stressed.”
He chuckles. “I guess I do. Doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“No. It feels nice.”
It does. I love Shawn’s hands on me. Anywhere.
He smooths my hair over one shoulder and bends down to kiss the bare one. I gasp as his lips trail up my neck, and he sucks on one really sensitive spot.
“Ticklish,” he says.
It’s not a question. He knows I am and how to exploit it.
I turn around in the tub to face him, trying to straddle his lap, but accidentally sloshing a lot of water over the sides.
“Oops.”
“I’ll clean it up later,” he says, pulling me in for a kiss. We kiss until the water gets cold. Then we wrap ourselves in fluffy towels and head into the bedroom.
Shawn lies on his side, and I climb in the bed next to him, face to face, and he pulls the comforter over both of us. I shiver.
“You’re cold?” he asks, pulling me closer. His skin is warm, and I sink into his easily, letting out a soft sigh.
I press my lips to his. “I, um… I just want…”
“Anything, sweetheart.”
I touch his chest, following my fingertips with my eyes as they move over his body, until they reach his shoulders. I look up into Shawn’s pretty hazel eyes.
“I just want to hold you,” I tell him, barely audibly. “I need to feel that you’re okay.”
Shawn makes a noise. Kind of a low, contented sound. He me in closer.
“Something like this?” he asks.
“Other way around.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think we’d fit that way,” he jokes. “Unless you want to starfish on top of me. That’d be pretty fun, actually.”