VII. From Me To You

If there's anything that you want,
If there's anything I can do,
Just call on me and I'll send it along with love from me to you.
I've got ev'rything that you want,
Like a heart that's oh so true,
Just call on me and I'll send it along,
With love from me to you.
I got arms that long to hold you,
And keep you by my side,
I got lips that long to kiss you,
And keep you satisfied.
If there's anything that you want,
If there's anything I can do,
Just call on me and I'll send it along,
With love from me to you.
Just call on me and I'll send it along,
With love from me to you.
I got arms that long to hold you,
And keep you by my side,
I got lips that long to kiss you,
And keep you satisfied.

I keep going up and down the driveway, staring at Angie's roller blades, the mailbox, an oil stain on the pavement. It hadn't taken that long to get here, about a fifteen minute walk, but it seemed like forever, and here I am, prolonging it. Before, it was so much easier, a quick hello to Joey or a hug to Angie, and then swoop, I'm in, and go into the garage to see him. But now, I can't even ring the doorbell.

It turns out I don't have to. Craig opens the door, a little smile on his face. I stop mid-pace and look down, then advance to the door.

"You have a long driveway," I say, probably the most idiotic thing to come out of my mouth.

I walk into the foyer and glance around the room. Everything looked pretty much the same, except that there were boxes in the middle of the living room, and lots of paper is strewn about the tabletop. Actually being in the house made me feel a lot more comfortable.

Craig points to the staircase. "I've been sitting there for about ten minutes...looking through the window."

I bite my lip. "So you saw me looking like a fool?"

"Actually, I thought it was cute the first hundred times, then I just felt bad," says Craig.

I give him a playful shove, then walk into the living room. I'm not sure whether to sit or stand, but Craig takes my hand and leads me to the couch. Touching his body sends a sharp thrill up my spine, but it doesn't last long because he lets my hand go as soon as we sit. Craig whistles while I twiddle my fingers.

"I...," we both say at the same time, then look away.

"You first," I encourage him.

"Um...well, I'm Joey's best man," says Craig. "I'm giving a toast."

"You! Not Snake? That's wonderful, Craig," I reply.

"Yeah...yeah, I was surprised," says Craig. "But I'm a songwriter...not a toast writer, or whatever that's called."

I shrug. "Joey won't care. Just speak from your heart."

He smiles at me, and I shyly look at the mantle. Getting up from the sofa, I walk over to the fireplace, where there's lots of pictures of Joey and Caitlin. They kiss under a mistletoe, cheer at a hockey game, stand by Angie as she holds a certificate. Craig wouldn't have a problem finding the right words for them: soulmates, dreamers, perfection. It's the kind of lovey dovey speak people pretend to hate, but secretly like, if it comes from the right person. What if I spoke from my heart? I know I will cry. It would be difficult, but this might be my last chance to make it right. But what if that was it? Maybe he wouldn't want to hear it, and I'd never see him after we said a polite good-bye and he closed the door behind me. He deserves to know, though.

"Craig, I made this huge mistake," I say, staring at him, a couple of tears falling.

Craig immediately tries to comfort me, because that's who he is, but I just lightly push him away.

"No, please," I say.

Craig sits back down on the couch, eyeing me with concern.

"I really had trouble seeing you before I left. I mean, not seeing, but seeing you the same. It was so hard for me to see you so weak and scared after the wedding. I felt like I had to bring you out of it, make you happy, so I suggested the support group, which I know was wrong but..."

"I liked group," interrupts Craig. "It really helped, Ash. Really."

"The only reason that I walked on eggshells was because I couldn't stand being the one to disappoint you," I say, wiping tears away. "And then it got to be too much. Then I heard you ran away and I felt paralyzed. I didn't...I didn't know what to do. I just had to stay and not think about it. But that's all I thought about, for weeks."

Craig rose from the couch, and wouldn't let me push him away this time. He puts his arms around my waist and forces me to look at him.

"That was a dumb choice I made," he whispers calmly.

"It was my fault!"

"No...no, it wasn't Ash."

He shushes me and holds me tightly to his chest. My heart is racing, while his is beating normally. I remember when he was first diagnosed, in the hospital, and I could feel his heart racing before they took him in for tests. I gave him a quick squeeze before he went in, but this was no quick squeeze. This was a hug that went on for awhile, that I wanted to keep going. I'm ashamed that my tears are falling on his leather jacket, but not ashamed to be held like I was with Ali.

Ali. I didn't even know what to say about him.

"I kept looking for distractions," I say, sniffling. "Umm...work...then it was traveling...then someone. This other guy came along, and just another...well, distraction."

Craig lets me go at this point, and turns his back to me. It was starting, the bad. But then he turns around and gives me a confused look.

"Were you happy with him?" he asks rather quickly, so quick that I'm stunned.

"I thought I would be...but...but no. I wanted to be here," I answer, somehow finding the words.

"Because I wasn't happy, Ashley. Not for a long time."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The words are gone.

"I dated Manny because she was there, and so supportive, and I hurt her pretty badly because I felt so closed off," says Craig.

That was me, the horrible person that made his heart shut off, and it was such a huge heart. A lump forms in my throat.

"Then El...I just needed someone who understood. I still care for her a lot."

I nod, feeling a pounding in my head. This had been a mistake, a colossal mistake. My hands start shaking.

"Ummm, I...I,"I stammer, and start to head for the door.

"Ashley, stop," exclaims Craig, blocking my path.

I can't even look him in the eye anymore, and focus on the arm of the couch. The weirdest memory comes into my mind, making out with him here, before we found out Snake had cancer, a good time before bad news. We were talking about how we were going to spend the weekend, something so simple and sweet. I felt like more bad news was coming, news that would shatter me. All he had to do was say I really want to be with Ellie, but have some type of closure with you.

"My intention wasn't to make you cry, Ash," he says softly. "I never would've invited you over if I thought it would make you feel bad."

"I can't look at you sometimes and not feel bad," I say, my eyes burning.

"You know what I really hated before I left?"

I shook my head.

"I hated how I felt to be in a room with you, Jimmy, and Ellie, and not talk to you a lot. That was terrible. You're the one girl I get."

I smile a little at that, but then stop it, because it felt a little bit guilty doing so.

"Even when you didn't understand me or see me, I always understood and saw you. I may not have talked to you with us four being together, but I wanted too...so badly."

Shaking, I put my hand on one side of Craig's face, and give him a kiss on the cheek, just brushing his skin with my lips. He looks startled, but grins.

"I'm so...I'm so sorry, Craig," I whisper.

"Let's talk some more," offers Craig, again taking my hand and trying to lead me to the couch.

I break away, sad to be doing it, but feeling that it might be right. Craig sighs.

"I didn't know I broke your heart so much," I say.

"You're the one I wrote songs for, the only one. But it's weird because...I still want to write them about you. Is that weird?"

"I don't know," I say, feeling my heart lift a bit.

Craig looks around nervously. "I don't want to make you cry anymore, Ashley. So if you have to leave..."

Nodding, I head for the door and into the foyer. Still, he takes my hand and we walk, down the long driveway, and for the first time that day, it feels too short.

"Next time, it won't hurt so much," I say. "Next time, if there's one."

Craig shakes his head, and squeezes my hand.

"Next time can't come soon enough," he replies. "I'll wait. I did it before."