I found the sled.
I blamed myself it had taken me so long to find it. I'd been distracted by Adrian and his nefarious plot to help heal my wounded inner child, so I hadn't snooped in all the places, like I normally would.
This was obviously his plan.
When I found it, the beautiful, gorgeous sled, I did what any self-respecting New Yorker would do, who had never been able to experience that piece of childhood: I shrieked in excitement so loudly that I drew the others to me, alarmed. They must have thought I'd found a wild animal and was being mauled.
As soon as I saw Adrian, I pointed, excited. "Look!"
"It's a sled," he said in a monotone.
"I know!" I said, graciously not hitting him for sharing in my wonder. "I've never had a sled! I've only read about them!"
I proceeded to jump up and down until Adrian took his cue as the designated Tall One™ to pull it down from the high shelf for me.
Oh, it was beautiful. Practically new, big enough for more than one person to use at a time, with metal runners and smooth, polished wood. I ran my fingers over the words embossed on the face: FLEXIBLE FLYER.
"Flexible Flyer," I said, smiling so big it hurt my cheeks. "It must really be like flying to race down a hill like that!"
Adrian stared at the sled before smiling at me. "Get dressed. We'll go right now," he said, patting the sled as I commenced the jumping up and down, again.
"Will you show me how?"
"Of course. Nothing could make me happier," Adrian said, smiling big back at me. I was almost taken aback—his teeth were no joke, and he didn't usually let me see them.
So I hurried to get dressed. Adrian had been out earlier, already, re-clearing our section of pond so we could skate, later, and was already dressed. He asked Will if he'd ever been sledding, engaging him without demanding he come, after his faux pas last time. I smiled.
He can be taught.
An hour later, sans Magda and Will who seemed content enough to let us just do our own thing as they did theirs, Adrian and I were at the top of a nearby hill, and Adrian was trying to get me to lie down face-first on the sled, like a crazy person.
"This is the most fun way," he insisted, and I frowned.
"But scary," I hedged. I'd never done this before! I wasn't gonna be thrilled to do it the most fun way. Not at first.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
I released tension I didn't realize I'd been holding onto. "Yes, Please."
"Okay," Adrian said agreeably, making the needed adjustments, sitting on the sled to weigh it down before motioning for me to sit in front of him.
So I did.
And it was. It was nice. I fit, there, in his space, and when he made to tentatively hold on to me, I pulled his arms tighter, so he'd know I didn't want him to fall.
It. It was also a kind of…tender thing. An intimate, sort of…couple-y thing.
I felt like…he could kiss me, then.
I…would let him.
"You're in front, so you navigate," he said instead, and if I weren't wearing my thick jacket, I was close enough that I would feel the rumble of his voice. "Ready?"
I smiled, though he couldn't see, and my heart pounded hard. "Yes."
And then we were off, and it was exhilarating, and what started as a shriek turned into a laugh, which I felt Adrian copy, and we flew down the hill.
It was practically perfect.
And being in front, I should have felt…scared? But I didn't. Because I made sure Adrian held on tight and feeling him right there with me…was safe.
We went in after just a few times—it gets exhausting fast, because for all you fly down the hill, you still have to trek back up the hill when you're done.
And it was more exerting than I thought, I guess, because I felt well like a limp noodle, sitting on my bed, taking off my boots and coat.
Adrian had mentioned taking an early dinner so we could build a fire, so he was probably telling Magda and Will.
I pulled out my journal, again, trying to pin down why I couldn't just…let myself be happy.
I'd made my choice, hadn't I? I wanted Adrian. I wanted to stay here.
I went over some of the things I'd written. About how we complement each other.
'…we're equally strange, equally damaged…the only difference is, my damage is inside. Perhaps I love him, not merely despite but because of his appearance. Maybe that's what makes him perfect for me. But do I love him enough to give up everything else?'
And then, later, after my epiphany the other night, where I could see my doodles of the Moon River lyrics in the margins:
'The answer is yes. Yes. I love him enough. I love him so much that nothing else matters, not what everyone thinks, not normalcy, not conforming to some picture of what people should look like or be, not even the fact that, yes, I'll be trapped here, maybe forever. It doesn't matter. After all, unlike with my father, it's not Adrian's fault he's like this. He's not weak like my father. Rather, being like this has made him stronger.'
I smiled, noticing the date. It was December 31st.
A wonderful time for new beginnings, really.
And I frowned, after, realizing what my hangup was.
My stupid father.
I could let my sisters keep handling him, it was only fair. It was their turn.
But…they weren't really doing a very good job. What if he died? Before they could find him? Before I could talk to him? Before I could yell at him?
Before I could forgive him?
The last thing I'd said to him I'd been upset because. Well. Because he'd sold me to Adrian, actually.
And no matter how valid my feelings…I mean. He was my father. I. I knew I could help. I knew him. I'd be able to find him. I knew I would. And I was worried about him.
And it was stupid. And…I knew I was right. I could feel it, like a glacier-sized rock in my gut.
Because my sisters had chosen their life. And my dad…had done this before.
And, tired and resigned…I knew how this usually played out.
There had been an extra blanket in my room, last night. The cold—bitter, like all the days here have been—had actually woken me up. And I'd just…laid there. You know. Like you do. Like. There was a problem, and I knew, I knew I'd have to get up and find another blanket, knew I couldn't sleep with just the one. But I was just. So tired. And so I'd just laid there, resigned. Knowing the unpleasant task at hand, and yet putting it off. As only the best procrastinators can. And the night air continued to nip insistently at whatever skin it could reach.
And the extra blanket had settled over me.
And I don't know…I mean. With my…past trauma? Someone being in my room when I'm trying to sleep is…understandably…high. On my list of potential triggers.
And I'd felt…no sense of danger. Zero.
And I knew it was Adrian. I knew it was. And I knew I hadn't been locking my door, lately. And I knew it had been a conscious decision because I trusted Adrian, and he'd never taken that liberty. Never come into my room uninvited.
And…now he had. And he…was. He was protecting me. Against the cold.
And if that wasn't…some…sign? Or something? That…I dunno.
This time. This time, maybe, things could be different.
It didn't have to fall on me, like it usually did.
I could trust my sisters to get it handled.
I could…I could just stay. I could stay here. With the boy I loved. And we could just. Have our own world. Where none of that stuff—the stuff that made us damaged, or traumatized—the stuff that made it so that I couldn't face talking to my sisters long enough even to cooperate with them and maybe help them find my dad, who…was missing. Who might be dead.
None of that had to be reality, here with Adrian.
The theater of Lindy's mind. It's dark out, Adrian is downstairs, probably getting some awesome surprise ready for the New Year, because it's Adrian.
In this theater, reality has no bearing.
I banish doubt from my mind. I smile—a real, genuine smile, like a girl in love with a boy is supposed to smile—and Adrian makes a fire. I tell him, finally, that I don't care about anything else. I ring in the new year with him, I meet his eyes…I kiss him. I take his hand. I tell him I'll never leave him.
I mean it. With all my heart.
Hell, let's go full ham.
In this theater, there's magic.
In this theater, I kiss him, and his troubles vanish. He doesn't have to worry, anymore, about looking like a beast. Not that it bothered me. But I knew it bothered him. Especially if he hadn't always looked like this. In this theater….because I can't actually imagine what Adrian would look like, he…looks the same, to me. But. But to him. And to everyone else. He looks…acceptable. Normal, I guess.
In this theater, he doesn't have to come secretly into my room when I need a blanket. Because in this theater, I'm not a basket case, either. And I not only let him in my room whenever. I invite him.
And. And it's so nice. The theater of my mind.
I indulged in it…probably longer than I should.
And then I closed my journal.
Stood up from my bed.
And went downstairs for real.
I'd tell him everything. My choice. My hangup, with my dad.
I was going to put this in Adrian's hands.
He'd been able to heal so many of my hurts.
Maybe it just might work out.
Maybe this time really would be different.
Adrian would fix everything, and I could just…be Lindy.
-o-
