CXVIII

CXVIII
"Clyde.. that is a beautiful name." I tell him honestly.
His face still tense in between my palms make me wonder if that was a sore subject for him. I make a show of turning his head, left, right, centre, and he looked good from every angle.
"Now that I think about it, you do look like a Clyde."
He looks even more tensed after I have said these words. It makes me wonder about the name.
"Was it your mom who gave you the name? Your birth mom?"
A wave of sadness flashes past his irises at the mention of his birth mom. But nods quickly and plops me down gently on the soft bed.
"Clyde." I call out freezing his movements.
"Would you like me to call you that when it is just the two of us?"
I chew my lip as he processed my gentle request. He liked the name, obviously. The only thing that connects him to his birth mom, it is only right he gets to be called that at least once.
"Yeah, I would like that, only when it is just the two if us. But not right now. Now is not a good time. I will tell you when."
I nod. A warm feeling spread in my chest, he would let me call him that.
He turns to me, his expression back to the carefree, easy smile, the only trace of him being frightened is the way his eyes can't seem to focus on me. He usually maintains eye contact, now it looked like he was seeing right through me, and not in the cute good way you would expect. And I know I rattled him, for some reason, and i have inadvertently ruined his demeanour, he won't go back to being carefree Kenny, at least not this night.
"I'm feeling indoorsy." I tell him.
A tiny crease sits on his brows.
"What?"
I pull myself up and stand beside him, my hands slip around his shoulders, they were kind of tense, but relaxes under my touch. What exactly did I say to rattle him so?
"I want to celebrate the relationship with just you. Here." I gesture around the room for emphasis.
"Why? Are you feeling tired?"
Wow, he was worried about me when he looked trapped when I called him Clyde earlier. The man was good.
"No, not in the slightest, but I don't want to go out. I want to stay in bed in your shirt and comfy bottoms whilst cuddling you all night."
His face burst into a grin.
"You know, that is in fact the very best idea I have heard all day." He kissed the tip of my nose. As he starts to head downstairs.
"Where are you going?"
I sound whiny and needy, but I didn't care, yes, if someone told me one day that I would be half this needy three months before this happened I would have laughed my head off.
He gives me a comforting smile, like he knows I do not like to be apart from him.
"I have to make a few calls, to get our food delivered here tomorrow instead. My phone is downstairs. I'll join you in the shower in a few minutes."
I smile at him and nod like a child being told they could get their favourite candy. He was my favourite candy.
When the water hits me, I'm grateful that Kenny is still back downstairs. I completely forgot about the period problem, the water beneath my feet was completely red. I hurriedly wash up. The red brings back memories of my mom. All the time she was sick.. all the blood I had to mop up, all the pain she went through. My chest tightens as a trip to the past hits me in the chest. Leaving me momentarily breathless.
I made a mental note to call my dad, I was no longer a disappointment. I would pay off all of our debt with the job i had now. And if he could forgive me, maybe we could repair our father daughter relationship.
"Is something wrong?"
Kenny's voice breaks through my reverie. I turn towards him, Flashing a weak smile.
"No, Why?"
He looks like he doesn't believe a word I said.
"Because despite the water, I can tell you have been crying."
My hands touch my face. The shower water was warm, tears were warm, I would not know the difference, and i did not know when the water works started.
"May sound very weird to you, or disgusting... but period always makes me remember my mom. All the blood." My voice cracks with emotion.
He says nothing, only pulls me into a hug, under the warm water, we stand there clinging to each other for strength. We both had a trip to the past, and it was very tricky trudging through and digging up what should have stayed buried.
I don't know how long we stand underneath the running water, but at some point we helped bathe each other, words unspoken, just moving through the motions. By the time we finished, we we pruned and feeling better.
Our shit eating grins matched the other's. Taking turn to dry each other's hair. He hands me an MIT shirt, I raise a brow in question.
"Graduated with honours from there."
"No way."
"Yes way. My parents paid for it."
I blink, "who was talking about money? You obviously came from it. I'm asking about the brains. I hear it is quite difficult to get in."
"Not when you score like one thousand, six hundred on the SAT's."
My eyes bulged.
"You really scored that?" I ask as we settle into bed.
He nods like it was a no big deal, like people scored that in reality.
"That is a fictional score. I thought people only scored that in teacher's imagination. I can imagine schools competing for your attention."
He pulls me into his body, my back against his warm chest, under his warm sheets.
"Really? I only opened the mail from MIT, my palms sweaty as I prayed they would take me in." He chuckled.
I had to turn and face him.
"With a score like 1600, you HAD the spot. And other schools must have sent mails too."
He frowned like he really had no idea.
"I thought that was a terrible score. My parents eyes were round for days after seeing it. I thought it was with disappointment." He says rubbing his jaw in thought.
"In disappointment? Why would you think that? You set the bar too high for students out there, you probably had the highest score world wide. For years."
He looked like he did not believe me.
"I was taught that if it wasn't a perfect score, it was not good enough."
I stay up most of the night thinking about who taught a child that. Was it his birth mom? What other thing did she teach him?