Part Eleven
The morning after. Michael and I are at Isabel's kitchen table, eating cereal again. I can't help the goofy grin that keeps coming to my face. The only reason it hasn't stayed there is because every now and then I think that at some point we need to talk about what happened and it sobers me. But then I remember little tidbits of one of the happiest days in my life and the smile returns.
But I need to talk to Michael, because I will never keep anything from him. Heart to heart discussions are never easy with him, so I decide to maneuver him into it. I clear my throat. "Michael, are you sleeping with Isabel?" I ask, knowing what his response will be.
"Are you sleeping with Maria?"
"Yes."
He hesitates, his spoon halfway between bowl and mouth, but doesn't look at me. I try not to grin - he's taking the bait, walking right down the path I want him on.
"Does it bother you I'm sleeping with Maria?" I ask next.
"Does it bother you I'm sleeping with Isabel?"
"No."
This time he does look up, his face expressionless, then he grins. And that is the end of the conversation. With years of fighting the enemy behind us, we know one another's moves and thoughts as if they were our own. We both know where we stand and we're okay with it.
I go to my mundane job with new interest. I can't wait to see Maria, to spend the day with her. I start staying at her apartment, giving Michael and Isabel some relief from my constant presence. I like sleeping in the same bed, waking up with her, exploring each other's lives and bodies like new territories to be conquered.
So life goes on for awhile. We're happy together. Maria gets a postcard from wherever Liz went on her honeymoon and I see a little bit of envy in her eyes. But the envy doesn't come as she looks at the words scribbled in Liz's meticulous handwriting - it comes as she looks at the photo of palm trees and unbelievably bluish-green waters. I get the feeling Maria doesn't wish a honeymoon for herself, but rather a vacation.
The capper comes a week later when she gets a letter from Kyle. I pretend like I'm stocking pumice stones, but really I'm watching her as she reads it. The whole time her full lips are turned down into a frown and I think it must be bad news. When she's finished, she lets out a sigh and looks up at me. Immediately, the depressed look in her eyes goes away as she realizes I've been watching her.
"Is everything okay?" I ask her.
She nods. "Yeah, fine. Just a letter from Kyle." She looks down at it, turns the envelope over in her hand to find the post mark. "Nova Scotia."
I laugh. When she doesn't laugh with me, I frown with her instead. Placing the box of stones on the floor, I walk behind the counter and put my hands on her shoulders. "What is it?"
She sighs and looks into her lap. I follow her gaze, then take the letter from her. She watches as I put it on the counter, the looks up at me when I lift her chin with my fingers.
"What is it?" I repeat.
"Nova Scotia," she says. "Do you realize I've never even seen snow, Max?"
I've seen snow. Tons of it. In New York and Washington State and Canada. But I've been all over fighting the good fight. I forget sometimes that Maria has been locked in Roswell forever.
I shake my head in response to her question. "No," I answer gently. "I didn't realize that."
"Or the ocean. I've never seen it, either." There is frustration in her eyes.
I put my arms around her waist. "Why not?"
She stops short, looking up into my eyes. I think I've stumped her with a good question. Why hasn't she seen all of those things? What has stopped her?
And then it occurs to me that I'm not sure why I'm here in Roswell, either. The only reason I'm staying here is because of her and if she left, I would go, too. Maybe it's true that you can't go home again, but then why can't you make yourself a new home?
"Let's go," I blurt out suddenly. "Let's send Kyle a letter or call him if he's left a number or something. Let's go meet up with him, see the world."
She pulls back a bit. "What? We can't do that."
"Why not?"
She searches for words, her brow furrowed. "What about this?" she asks, gesturing to the shop.
"Sell it," I encourage. "Or not. If you still wanted to do this again some day, you could open another store or come back here and reopen this one. You did it once, Maria, you could do it again."
I'm getting excited - I can almost feel the road beneath our feet. This time will be so different - no bad guys, no running for my life, no fighting. Just me and Maria, discovering the world.
But she looks hesitant. "What would we do for money?"
"What does Kyle do for money? What did Michael and I do for money? You do what you have to and don't worry about it." I see a spark in those green eyes - she's thinking about it. I give her a quick kiss. "Think about it for awhile and then let me know. What have we got to lose? Why can't we do this?"
She agrees to sleep on it, but I don't hear anything more about it for almost a week and a half. I don't want to bring it up again because I don't want her to think I'm pushing her. If I have to stay here in this tourist trappy down that is getting rich off me without knowing it, then I will. But if she says she wants to leave tomorrow, I can be packed in an hour.
I stand before her kitchen counter, brewing coffee and shaking the sleep from my head. I haven't even bothered to get dressed because it's Sunday morning and this is our day of leisure - there will be football and pizza this afternoon. Because of my stripped-down state, I shiver when she pounds through the door, letting in a cool fall draft as she returns from her run. My smile is immediate, as is hers. She crosses the room, puts her arms around me in a good-morning hug, and I feel her chest expanding and contracting rapidly as her lungs struggle to recover from her work out.
Releasing me, she pulls out a chair and sits to remove her shoes. I pour two cups of coffee and place one before her, then slip into a chair opposite of her. Within a few minutes, her breathing has returned to normal and she reaches down to pull off her sweatshirt. What a pair we are - me in my boxers and her in shorts and a sports bra. I smile over my cup.
She rummages through the ever-present stack of mail on the table until she finds a letter of particular interest. I watch her curiously as she holds it up. "I got this yesterday," she announces.
I remain silent, waiting patiently.
I can tell she's trying to hold back a grin, but she fails. "Kyle said he'll wait in Halifax until we get there."
I can't possibly have heard her right. My body jumps with a sudden rush of excitement and I hurry to the other side of the table to pull her to her feet. I crush her against me, laughing. "Thank you!" I say into her hair.
She giggles. "I'm not doing this for you, Alien Boy. I want to see the world, too."
I pull back and kiss her - hard. "Of course you do," I say. I no longer care about pizza and football - I want to start packing immediately.
Saying goodbye to Isabel is hard. But I've done that before. Saying goodbye to Michael is devastating. He and I have never been apart since the third grade when we found one another. Life without him will be awkward and uncomfortable - a king was not made to be without his second. But I know he will always be only a phone call away if I need him. He wishes us well, Isabel cries. I tell her not to worry - we'll come home again some day.
At the airport, Maria is nervous and I can't tell if it's excited nervousness or scared nervousness. I pretend to read my paper, but the whole time I'm watching her fidget next to me as we wait for the call to board.
"Are you okay?" I finally ask.
Her head jerks in my direction. "I've never flown."
I raise an eyebrow. "No?"
She shakes her head.
"Are you afraid of it?"
She looks away, then shrugs slightly.
I fold the paper and place it into one of my bags. I turn my body toward hers and pick up her hand in mine. "I was born to fly," I tell her quietly and she giggles lightly. "I've even crashed once. And look - I survived!"
She laughs, but her hand in mine is slick with sweat.
We board the plane and she seems a bit more nervous. As the last passengers file in, I reach over and fasten her seatbelt and pickup her hand again. I know I need to distract her.
"Ever heard of the Mile High Club?" I ask her.
Her pretty brow furrows. "No. What's that?"
I glance around to see who may be within earshot, then I lean close to her ear. "You become a member once you've had sex more than a mile above the earth."
Her eyes widen, then she surveys the tight confines of the plane. "Where?"
I point toward the tiny airplane bathroom and her expression is one of disbelief. "We can try it sometime," I tell her. But we're going to be going to a lot of places, so it doesn't have to be this time."
She looks amused. "A lot of places, huh?"
I nod. "Sure. Look at all of the places Kyle's been. And we'll have an expert vagabond with us - I'm sure he'll show us the ropes." I smile to myself. While I've distracted her, we've pushed back from the jetway and are now taxi-ing toward the runway. "Think of it, Maria - sandy beaches, snowy mountains." I lift her hand and kiss the back of it. "And I will be there with you, every step of the way."
She smiles at me, then her expression shows utter surprise as the jet's engines kick in for take-off. I love the thrust of ascending in an airplane and from the look on her face, so does she. Nervousness abated, she looks out the window, watching the trees get smaller and smaller beneath us.
I watch her with absolute admiration and think back on my return journey to Roswell. I was hell bent on winning Liz Parker back. But now, here I am, with what I believe is the true love of my life at my side.
There is a fine line between love and hate. But there is also a fine line between love and friendship. And I finally know which side of the line I'm standing on.
The End
The morning after. Michael and I are at Isabel's kitchen table, eating cereal again. I can't help the goofy grin that keeps coming to my face. The only reason it hasn't stayed there is because every now and then I think that at some point we need to talk about what happened and it sobers me. But then I remember little tidbits of one of the happiest days in my life and the smile returns.
But I need to talk to Michael, because I will never keep anything from him. Heart to heart discussions are never easy with him, so I decide to maneuver him into it. I clear my throat. "Michael, are you sleeping with Isabel?" I ask, knowing what his response will be.
"Are you sleeping with Maria?"
"Yes."
He hesitates, his spoon halfway between bowl and mouth, but doesn't look at me. I try not to grin - he's taking the bait, walking right down the path I want him on.
"Does it bother you I'm sleeping with Maria?" I ask next.
"Does it bother you I'm sleeping with Isabel?"
"No."
This time he does look up, his face expressionless, then he grins. And that is the end of the conversation. With years of fighting the enemy behind us, we know one another's moves and thoughts as if they were our own. We both know where we stand and we're okay with it.
I go to my mundane job with new interest. I can't wait to see Maria, to spend the day with her. I start staying at her apartment, giving Michael and Isabel some relief from my constant presence. I like sleeping in the same bed, waking up with her, exploring each other's lives and bodies like new territories to be conquered.
So life goes on for awhile. We're happy together. Maria gets a postcard from wherever Liz went on her honeymoon and I see a little bit of envy in her eyes. But the envy doesn't come as she looks at the words scribbled in Liz's meticulous handwriting - it comes as she looks at the photo of palm trees and unbelievably bluish-green waters. I get the feeling Maria doesn't wish a honeymoon for herself, but rather a vacation.
The capper comes a week later when she gets a letter from Kyle. I pretend like I'm stocking pumice stones, but really I'm watching her as she reads it. The whole time her full lips are turned down into a frown and I think it must be bad news. When she's finished, she lets out a sigh and looks up at me. Immediately, the depressed look in her eyes goes away as she realizes I've been watching her.
"Is everything okay?" I ask her.
She nods. "Yeah, fine. Just a letter from Kyle." She looks down at it, turns the envelope over in her hand to find the post mark. "Nova Scotia."
I laugh. When she doesn't laugh with me, I frown with her instead. Placing the box of stones on the floor, I walk behind the counter and put my hands on her shoulders. "What is it?"
She sighs and looks into her lap. I follow her gaze, then take the letter from her. She watches as I put it on the counter, the looks up at me when I lift her chin with my fingers.
"What is it?" I repeat.
"Nova Scotia," she says. "Do you realize I've never even seen snow, Max?"
I've seen snow. Tons of it. In New York and Washington State and Canada. But I've been all over fighting the good fight. I forget sometimes that Maria has been locked in Roswell forever.
I shake my head in response to her question. "No," I answer gently. "I didn't realize that."
"Or the ocean. I've never seen it, either." There is frustration in her eyes.
I put my arms around her waist. "Why not?"
She stops short, looking up into my eyes. I think I've stumped her with a good question. Why hasn't she seen all of those things? What has stopped her?
And then it occurs to me that I'm not sure why I'm here in Roswell, either. The only reason I'm staying here is because of her and if she left, I would go, too. Maybe it's true that you can't go home again, but then why can't you make yourself a new home?
"Let's go," I blurt out suddenly. "Let's send Kyle a letter or call him if he's left a number or something. Let's go meet up with him, see the world."
She pulls back a bit. "What? We can't do that."
"Why not?"
She searches for words, her brow furrowed. "What about this?" she asks, gesturing to the shop.
"Sell it," I encourage. "Or not. If you still wanted to do this again some day, you could open another store or come back here and reopen this one. You did it once, Maria, you could do it again."
I'm getting excited - I can almost feel the road beneath our feet. This time will be so different - no bad guys, no running for my life, no fighting. Just me and Maria, discovering the world.
But she looks hesitant. "What would we do for money?"
"What does Kyle do for money? What did Michael and I do for money? You do what you have to and don't worry about it." I see a spark in those green eyes - she's thinking about it. I give her a quick kiss. "Think about it for awhile and then let me know. What have we got to lose? Why can't we do this?"
She agrees to sleep on it, but I don't hear anything more about it for almost a week and a half. I don't want to bring it up again because I don't want her to think I'm pushing her. If I have to stay here in this tourist trappy down that is getting rich off me without knowing it, then I will. But if she says she wants to leave tomorrow, I can be packed in an hour.
I stand before her kitchen counter, brewing coffee and shaking the sleep from my head. I haven't even bothered to get dressed because it's Sunday morning and this is our day of leisure - there will be football and pizza this afternoon. Because of my stripped-down state, I shiver when she pounds through the door, letting in a cool fall draft as she returns from her run. My smile is immediate, as is hers. She crosses the room, puts her arms around me in a good-morning hug, and I feel her chest expanding and contracting rapidly as her lungs struggle to recover from her work out.
Releasing me, she pulls out a chair and sits to remove her shoes. I pour two cups of coffee and place one before her, then slip into a chair opposite of her. Within a few minutes, her breathing has returned to normal and she reaches down to pull off her sweatshirt. What a pair we are - me in my boxers and her in shorts and a sports bra. I smile over my cup.
She rummages through the ever-present stack of mail on the table until she finds a letter of particular interest. I watch her curiously as she holds it up. "I got this yesterday," she announces.
I remain silent, waiting patiently.
I can tell she's trying to hold back a grin, but she fails. "Kyle said he'll wait in Halifax until we get there."
I can't possibly have heard her right. My body jumps with a sudden rush of excitement and I hurry to the other side of the table to pull her to her feet. I crush her against me, laughing. "Thank you!" I say into her hair.
She giggles. "I'm not doing this for you, Alien Boy. I want to see the world, too."
I pull back and kiss her - hard. "Of course you do," I say. I no longer care about pizza and football - I want to start packing immediately.
Saying goodbye to Isabel is hard. But I've done that before. Saying goodbye to Michael is devastating. He and I have never been apart since the third grade when we found one another. Life without him will be awkward and uncomfortable - a king was not made to be without his second. But I know he will always be only a phone call away if I need him. He wishes us well, Isabel cries. I tell her not to worry - we'll come home again some day.
At the airport, Maria is nervous and I can't tell if it's excited nervousness or scared nervousness. I pretend to read my paper, but the whole time I'm watching her fidget next to me as we wait for the call to board.
"Are you okay?" I finally ask.
Her head jerks in my direction. "I've never flown."
I raise an eyebrow. "No?"
She shakes her head.
"Are you afraid of it?"
She looks away, then shrugs slightly.
I fold the paper and place it into one of my bags. I turn my body toward hers and pick up her hand in mine. "I was born to fly," I tell her quietly and she giggles lightly. "I've even crashed once. And look - I survived!"
She laughs, but her hand in mine is slick with sweat.
We board the plane and she seems a bit more nervous. As the last passengers file in, I reach over and fasten her seatbelt and pickup her hand again. I know I need to distract her.
"Ever heard of the Mile High Club?" I ask her.
Her pretty brow furrows. "No. What's that?"
I glance around to see who may be within earshot, then I lean close to her ear. "You become a member once you've had sex more than a mile above the earth."
Her eyes widen, then she surveys the tight confines of the plane. "Where?"
I point toward the tiny airplane bathroom and her expression is one of disbelief. "We can try it sometime," I tell her. But we're going to be going to a lot of places, so it doesn't have to be this time."
She looks amused. "A lot of places, huh?"
I nod. "Sure. Look at all of the places Kyle's been. And we'll have an expert vagabond with us - I'm sure he'll show us the ropes." I smile to myself. While I've distracted her, we've pushed back from the jetway and are now taxi-ing toward the runway. "Think of it, Maria - sandy beaches, snowy mountains." I lift her hand and kiss the back of it. "And I will be there with you, every step of the way."
She smiles at me, then her expression shows utter surprise as the jet's engines kick in for take-off. I love the thrust of ascending in an airplane and from the look on her face, so does she. Nervousness abated, she looks out the window, watching the trees get smaller and smaller beneath us.
I watch her with absolute admiration and think back on my return journey to Roswell. I was hell bent on winning Liz Parker back. But now, here I am, with what I believe is the true love of my life at my side.
There is a fine line between love and hate. But there is also a fine line between love and friendship. And I finally know which side of the line I'm standing on.
The End