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The beach is a blanket of white, fluffy snow. It’s picturesque, fairy-tale like.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, beat the summertime in Cousins; the blues of the ocean that competed with the blues of the sky, the feel of the sand, warm and soft under your toes. But this winter view, the crisp chill in the air, the faint smell of frost coming from the ocean? It was all certainly giving summer a run for its money.
Belly wants to pinch herself, it didn’t seem real; the entire beach to themselves in this winter wonderland.
Her pinch comes in the form of soft lips pressing to her cheek.
“You look like you're a million miles away, what are you thinking about?"
Conrad wraps his arms around her waist, holding her as close as he can while bundled in his thick winter coat.
They were up at Cousins for the weekend, her mother had been asked to be the special guest at a newly formed but highly sought-after writers' retreat, so everyone was coming down. Steven with Shaylah, Jeremiah and also Taylor to celebrate but mostly just to come together. With Susannah’s illness being what it was it seldom happened these days.
A few weeks before Conrad had asked if she wanted to come up a day earlier, just the two of them and Belly, of course, immediately said yes.
“Just thinking about how much I can’t believe that this is real.”
She can feel Conrad’s laugh rumble through his chest even with the amount of layers they’re wearing but he somehow manages not to let go of her.
“Seriously. Who would've thought that snow on the beach would be appealing.”
“It’s beautiful.” She sighs and shifts around in his arms, finding he was already looking at her.
“True.” He whispers fondly.
Belly rolls her eyes but inside her heart was singing. The way he was looking at her, like nothing else existed. It was making her feel warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Nothing on earth could possibly feel better than the way Conrad looked at her.
“Come on, you goose, come chase me.”
Without warning Conrad lunges at her and throws her over his shoulder, starting at a run as if on a football field and Belly is laughing so hard tears prick her eyes.
Eventually they both topple down onto the picnic blanket they’d taken with them to keep themselves from getting wet from the snow.
Belly props herself against his knees, breathlessly tucking her hair behind her ears. “What if I was a mermaid without a voice, banished to live alone without my prince in the sea, would you still chase me?”
Conrad helps her with some of the hair she missed as his face grows serious. “In the real story she dies you know.”
Belly slaps at his chest, about to jump up when he grabs at her hand, tugging her back down in between his legs.
“Of course I would. I’d lose my own voice trying to find you.” He says quietly.
Belly’s heart if possible grows that much more.
“I’d lose mine too, I’d give up mine just to hear yours again.”
Conrad snorts. “I think you’re the one losing in that case, my singing voice is terrible.” He says and she climbs her way into his lap; it was freezing, they should be heading in but it felt impossible to leave quite yet.
“Yeah well that’s probably why Ursula would never go after you.” She teases and Conrad reaches forward in retaliation, fakes bitting her shoulder and she squeals, squirming away from him and on they go playing and laughing until she somehow ends up flat on her back with him hovering above her and the mood shifts.
“Hi.” She whispers, staring up at him and Conrad smiles.
"Hi."
He kisses her neck, dragging his lips down the curve of it to her collarbone and it feels so incredible she can’t help the low moan that comes out of her mouth. She uses the back of her ankle to bring his hips against hers, needing him incredibly close, needing him to be where no one else has ever been. Her entire body just throbs with it, just sheer, unadulterated need.
When she slips her hand underneath his sweatshirt, feeling his naked skin, that's when Conrad breaks away, his breath audibly hitching.
He looks a little wild eyed, completely and utterly flushed, “You think we should…you think we should go in?”
Reluctantly, she shifts herself up into a standing position, reaching down for his hand which he takes and together they help one another home.
****
Back inside the house, Conrad quickly fetches two big beach towels from the linen cupboard to help them dry off a little. He hands hers over before stepping back and walking over to the other side of the room, rubbing at his hair. They were being a little funny with each other, not making eye contact, and keeping their distance.
Between the way they’d kiss on the beach, to their walk back to the house, there was something heavy and loaded in the air now. Something had shifted between them; without them needing to say anything, they both knew what was to come next.
"You cold? Should I get a fire going?"
Belly curls the towel around her body, pulls it up to her chin. “A fire sounds great."
Conrad heads over to the fireplace and she watches him strike the match but it doesn’t take. He tries again with still no luck. It’s unusual for him to be struggling so much with it, the self-proclaimed expert that he is, and she's wondering if it's because the box was old or if his hands were too stiff when she realizes that his hands are trembling.
Folding up her towel and dropping it onto the kitchen table, she closes the space between them and wraps her hands around his forearms.
“Hey mister.” She says softly.
Immediately at her touch, his body softens, the assurance he feels so apparent, and he leans back against her.
“Hi baby.” Conrad says gently.
“It’s okay if you’re nervous you know.”
Conrad puts the box of matches on the mantle, “I’m not." He whispers but doesn’t turn around, instead reaching his arms back to encircle her waist.
They stand like that for a long moment; Belly moves her head to the side, resting her cheek in between his shoulder blades. He's warm despite how cold it had been outside. Leaning there against him like that, with his warmth, makes her feel so content her throat constricts from the enormity of it all. Of this moment, of this night, of being with him.
“Are you nervous?” He asks.
“Yes.” She answers honestly and this is when he does move, shifting around until he's looking right at her.
“About what?” He asks, a concerned expression etched across his face, his eyebrows knitted together.
“About silly things, I think. My body, you seeing it, that it’ll hurt. Stuff like that.”
Conrad nods, processing her words. “I don’t think that’s silly at all, but I also don’t want you to be nervous about any of those things, Bell. Any of it, okay?”
She nods, always loving it whenever he called her 'Bell.’
Reaching over, she cups his face in both of her hands. "Your turn. Tell me what you're thinking."
Conrad nuzzles his nose against her palm before closing his eyes.
“I just don’t want you to regret anything or be disappointed.”
Belly frowns, surprised that he could ever think that. If anything, she worries about him being disappointed. After all he was the one with the most experience. The one who had actually had sex, and with more than one person. So him fearing her disappointment? He was wrong.
“That's impossible. Besides, it’s not like I have anything to compare it to.”
“That’s my point, I just want…there’s nothing I want more than for you to be okay.” He says, his voice thick with emotion.
“Hey, look at me.”
He does, those blue eyes of his looked so scared. She wanted to kiss his eyelids, to erase any sense of doubt that lived in him.
“The way you look at me? The way you hold me. The way it makes me feel? It’s the best thing, Connie. The best. You make me feel so safe, so wanted. I’ve never felt more okay than I feel with you.”
Conrad leans forward, wraps his arms tight around her body and for a long moment they just hold one another until she eventually pulls back.
“I’m going to change, maybe brush my teeth. Meet you back here in 5?”
He nods, not dropping her hand until the absolute last second.
****
It takes her longer than 5 minutes. She changes, brushes her hair, then her teeth and then her hair again for good measure. She debates putting on a swipe of lip gloss but in the end, decides against it. It felt a little redundant at this point, her lips still felt swollen from the last time they’d kissed.
When she walks back into the living room, the fire is going and Conrad is standing in front of it with his arms crossed.
When he notices her, his eyes go wide as he realizes what she’s wearing or more importantly, what she isn’t.
She had thrown on one of his old rowing shirts she sometimes slept in but didn't bother with any gym shorts this time, in just the shirt and her underwear.
"I changed." She explains, leaning against the doorway and he swallows, his eyes trailing down her body.
"I can see that."
“Is it okay?” She asks, suddenly feeling self conscious.
But Conrad smiles and the feeling fades. “Yeah it's okay. I like it.”
Belly pushes off of the doorway, takes a couple brave steps forward. “What else do you like?” She asks softly.
"Your laugh, that you laugh a lot. At yourself, at me, with everyone. It’s one of my favorite sounds, your laugh.”
Fireworks explode in her stomach. “What else?”
“When you swim, how at peace you seem...you make it seem like there’s nowhere else you belong.”
Because she feels brave, because she feels so wanted, because she loves him, she says, “I can think of another place where I belong.”
The corners of Conrad’s mouth turn up and she watches him attempt to hide his smile but it’s a lost cause. “Get over here.”
Grinning she has to resist the urge not to run but he’s just as eager, practically grabbing for her once she's in reach.
For a long, quiet moment they stand there, taking one another in.
“How do we do this?” Conrad asks softly and she’s almost glad to hear he sounds just as nervous as she feels.
“You know what would weirdly help?”
Conrad flicks his eyes steadily between hers. “What?”
“Music.”
He fiddles with his phone for a moment until a song starts trickling through the speakers that were speckled around the living room.
It’s a song she recognizes very, very well but wouldn’t think in a million years it’d be one Conrad would listen to.
“This is from Dirty Dancing.” Belly says, a little stunned. She tries not to laugh but a rogue giggle slips out.
A look of embarrassment crosses over Conrad’s face. “I can change it?” He starts to pull away but Belly grips onto his sweatshirt.
“No!” She cries and tugs him back in, “Sweetheart, no, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t-it’s perfect, I’m sorry.”
They smile in understanding and Conrad cradles her in as they begin to rock back and forth. It is, by any stretch of the imagination, pretty perfect.
“I love this song.” She says, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.
“I know, I do too.” He whispers.
“You remember that one summer I made everyone re-watch the movie over and over again? And then I’d play the soundtrack until Steven got so mad he snapped the CD in half. I wanted to put some of the pieces in my scrapbook but it disappeared.”
Conrad ducks his head, looking sheepish all of a sudden.
“I tried to fix it.”
Her eyes widen, her heart skipping a beat at the admission. “No you didn’t.”
Conrad looks up still looking a little nervous. “I thought if I got the tape thin enough it would work. I almost broke our stereo when I tried to play it.”
Oh, the way she loves this boy. Has loved him without fully understanding the way he has loved her just the same. She brushes the tip of her finger along his eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose until cupping his face in her hands.
"Thank you, Connie. Thank you for trying."
The way he looks at her now makes her feel self conscious again but in a completely different way than before. In a way that makes her feel exposed but utterly and wholly accepted.
Slowly, she steps back from him and peels her shirt off – his shirt – up over her head and then drops it to the floor.
“Okay?” She asks and Conrad reaches for her, traces his fingers along her hips and up her spine, bringing her back against him.
“More than okay.”
Without another word, he moves to lift her and she winds her legs around his waist as he carries her over to the couch, lays her down like she’s a sculpture to be revered and then he carefully hovers above her.
It’s a cliché but she can’t help it. “I love you, Conrad.” She whispers and it does something to him, she can see it, hearing the words out loud even though she suspects he has known this for a long, long time.
“Isabel,” He breathes and there’s sanctity in the way he says it, the way he carries it, her name, her actual blessed name. “My Bell. You have no idea, you have no idea, I love you too.” And he leans down to kiss her.
For the rest of her life, the rest of it, despite there being many more nights like it, she will remember that first night in all of its detail. She will remember feeling comfortable and safe that first time. She will remember how he was shaking, how she had kissed each one of his knuckles to calm him down. How she had helped him take off his jeans, his shirt, until he was naked too. And then she had watched him take the wrapper off the condom but helped him put it on, that it felt nerve-wracking to see him so naked, to feel him that first time, but also perfectly normal.
Conrad had brought their interwoven fingers above her head, told her to squeeze his hands as hard as she could the second he was first inside of her, as if needing to feel the pain too and it does hurt, it does sting but only for a few seconds and then it feels unimaginable. To be this close, the way he feels. At one point Conrad slipped his arm beneath her back, changing the angle so as his hips moved against hers, she could feel it more intensely, more deeply. She came undone as he did that, and he held her and whispered that he loved her over and over.
They do it again in the morning. In the sleepy, dawn haze of the winter sunrise. It’s slower, so tender and there’s even less nervousness than there was last night – they hold each other's gaze as they move together, as they savor every single moment as if it's their last.
Once they finish, Conrad drops down, making sure to keep most of his body weight off of her but the couch wasn’t all that big and she doesn’t care about body weight, she’ll take all of it if he’d let her.
“Are you okay?” She asks after a moment, gently stroking her fingers through his hair.
“I’m never moving again. I live here now.” He mutters against her arm and Belly giggles, nudging him.
“Think we might have to before everyone gets here.”
A content silence falls over them, there was an air of such peace in the room, Conrad’s breathing slows and Belly is close to falling into a doze too until out of nowhere her stomach lets out a loud and disgruntled growl.
Conrad lifts his head, a stunned expression on his face.
“Breakfast muffins?” She asks hopefully and Conrad lips spread out in a warm, knowing smile before he leans over to kiss her forehead.
“Sure. Let’s go get some muffins.”
Whether it's because of what happened last night and this morning or whether it's just simply the fact of being here, they're extra affectionate with each other. Belly slips her arm beneath the one he isn't using to grip to the steering wheel and Conrad curls a hand around her thigh, rubbing his fingers along her skin, the two of them exchanging looks every once in a while and trying not to smile.
They get a fresh batch of muffins, spread with warm butter and honey and eat them quickly right there in the bakery.
Taylor, waiting for her bus to Cousins, calls just as they're paying.
“There was snow everywhere Tay it was amazing - um yeah, not much, we’ve just been hanging out. It’s been so nice.”
Their conversation continues until Taylor’s bus arrives and they say their goodbyes laced with the giddiness of seeing one another soon.
Walking back out to his car, Conrad and Belly trade off the box of left over muffins and the rest of their stuff. At one point she hands him her phone so she could dig his keys out of her tote bag when it starts to ring again.
Assuming it’s Taylor, she waves it off.
"You mind telling her I'll ring her back when we're home?"
When several seconds pass and the phone is still ringing, she looks up to find Conrad frozen, staring at it with an unreadable expression on his face.
"What's wrong?"
"It's ah, it's not Taylor, it's Jere."
Oh. Fuck.
It's not that she'd been keeping her contact with Jeremiah a secret but she definitely hadn't brought it up. They talked on the phone every once in a while but mostly texted, it wasn’t much different than the way they would interact before everything that happened last year. She doesn’t know why then, she feels so guilty. Like she’s done something wrong. Maybe it was because Conrad now looks like someone has just robbed him.
"Just let it ring out." She says, an edge to her voice she's sure he can hear and climbs into the passenger seat.
Conrad starts the car and thankfully the phone goes quiet but then so does the car too.
This time, there is no touching of thighs, no sideway glances. Conrad keeps his focus squarely on the road as they make their way back to the house in dead silence until Belly can’t take it anymore.
"Are we going to talk about it or not?”
"Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, his tone even, but she can see the tension in his jaw, the way he was gripping to the steering wheel.
“I want to talk about it if it’s bothering you which it clearly is.”
He shrugs in an attempt at indifference but she knows him better than anyone else on this entire planet and nothing about his body language, his energy, the look on his face, screams indifference.
They make it home and silently get out of the car and head back into the house and into the kitchen.
Belly drops her bag onto the counter before turning around to begin the inevitable. “Say it, Con. I know you wanna ask me how often we talk, when we talk, so just ask me.”
“Were you planning on telling anyone about last night? About us?”
Her head snaps back, taken right off guard until a sickly realization sinks in. “Anyone meaning anyone or anyone meaning Jere?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Conrad answers roughly and it takes everything in her not to roll her eyes; that response from him might've worked 6 months ago, a year ago, trying to push her away but it wasn't going to work now.
“Yes it was. What do you expect me to do? Announce it when he gets here? 'Oh hey Jere, how you doing? Oh me? Well I had sex for the first time last night and it was with your brother, what do you think?’”
Conrad grips to the edge of the counter. “Don’t.”
Belly recoils, her stomach full of muffins was now starting to feel like lead.
“Then don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
Crossing her arms over her chest she gives him a pointed look. “You know what. Are you going to call Aubrey and Nicole?”
It's a petty thing to say but she can't help it, in disbelief that they were even having this argument in the first place.
Conrad stares at her, looking a mixture of confused and pissed off.
“I never slept with Nicole. Not once.”
Belly can hear her heart pounding in her ears. “You...you didn't?“
"No. She wanted to but I couldn’t…I didn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” He trails off helplessly.
“So Aubrey then.” She says tersely.
Conrad’s jaw locks. “Sure. I'd tell her, Belly. I would tell anyone right fucking now about us.”
“What do we want me to do? Call him back? Parade it around when he gets here?” She asks incredulously.
Conrad shakes his head, hurt clear on his face. “No but you'll hide it because you care what he thinks about us being together, you worry about it. Like you’re protecting him.”
For a moment she’s too upset by that to speak. Upset that he has been thinking it, believing this of her, for who knows how long and he’s only saying it now. Their communication was so much better since becoming a couple but she’d thought it was at least better than this. Better than the two of them keeping things from one another and being afraid to be honest. She never, ever wants to be afraid to be honest with him.
“That’s not true.”
He raises an eyebrow, as if saying, wanna bet? It infuriates her.
“I can’t just pretend it never happened, Conrad. Yes, I had feelings for him. They were different than what I feel for you, they weren’t as intense as what I feel for you but they were still feelings. And he’s still my best friend, he’s still someone I care about.”
“Right. I bet you had loads of feelings for your best friend you made out with in a pool once.”
The room goes deathly silent. She glares at him; the counter is between them but it could be an entire continent. She finds herself wanting it to be an entire continent.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” She spits and then walks right out of the kitchen and out of the house.
****
She’s tempted to call Taylor but decides against it pretty quickly. Taylor had only just started to soften towards Conrad after everything that had gone down last summer and it wouldn't take much to get him back on her shit list.
Plus Belly didn’t fully understand how she felt, or what had even happened in the first place. Conrad never brought up her relationship with Jeremiah - if you could even call it that, they were ‘together’ for all of three days, a week at best - but clearly it was something Conrad had been holding insecurities about.
That’s what this was right? He was insecure? Or maybe she hadn’t been very good at communicating her feelings for Conrad, not communicating them to him enough? He was the love of her life, would always be the love of her life, how could he not know that? How could he not understand that no one else would possibly surpass that for her?
She wishes, a painful pinch in her chest, that she could talk to Susannah. Susannah would understand, could help her try to analyze her thoughts. Her chemo treatments were so intense lately that she was rendered almost catatonic; she’d either spend a lot of the day and night sleeping or so groggy that it was hard for her to have a conversation any longer than a few minutes.
So instead, Belly walks along the beach, thinking, stewing, breathing.
It’s noon when she returns to the house and the driveway now has three extra cars pulled into it; everyone had arrived for lunch.
Rather than try to cook themselves, they had ordered catering from one of the bigger restaurants in town. It’s a huge spread, with a mixture of entrees, a couple cheese boards and several main courses, all of which are delicious and require second helpings off.
Conrad and Belly don’t ignore each other during lunch but they don’t exactly make a point of looking or talking to each other either. It doesn’t go unnoticed. At one point Taylor glares at Conrad and then throws Belly a look as if to say, ‘I expect and better get a full play by fucking play about what the hell is going on’ and then later, as they’re all clearing the table and washing up, Cleveland pulls her aside.
“Look I don’t mean to pry but are you and Conrad okay? I got a sense that there was something going on, you both barely said two words at lunch.”
Belly shakes her head, busying herself with putting away unused cutlery. “We’re in a fight. It’s fine. We’ll be fine.”
Cleveland catches her eye, gives her a meaningful look. “If you ever want to talk. Or need to. I’m here.”
She smiles; Cleveland was sweet and was also fond of Conrad in a way she knew meant a lot to him. He was also really good to her mother, to her and Steven when he didn’t have to be.
“Thanks, Cleveland.”
He nods and then hands her over a freshly dried wine glass to put away.
And they continue in a comfortable silence.
****
Later, after the dishes have been cleared and the leftovers put away, all the kids drape themselves across the living room furniture, feeling stuffed but also horribly bored.
For the past 5 minutes people had been passing around suggestions for things to do. Nobody wanted to watch a movie and nobody really wanted to go into town. It was a beautiful day out, the snow had trickled out into only a light fall.
Steven who had been lying curled against Shayla’s legs as she sat back on the couch suddenly sprung up.
“Dude, oh my god, let’s go sledding! The Nicholsons set up their hill, Clay was telling me. We can walk right over.”
There’s a chorus of agreement just as Laurel passes through the room having just checked in on Susannah who was asleep in the den.
“Guys, hey, wait a second, is that a good idea? They have all those trees in their yard.”
The others hesitate but Steven is determined, as he usually was, to make his plan work.
“Come on, mom, it’ll be fine. There’s enough of us that we can guard people going down.”
Laurel makes a dubious face but relents, throwing up her hands.
“Fine, but Cleveland and I will be leaving for the inn in about an hour. Someone either needs to come and regularly check in on Susannah or stay, you pick.”
Conrad starts to answer before she’s finished, he’d been the only one who hadn’t chimed in with an opinion on what activity they could do.
“I’ll stay with mom, Laur. I don’t mind.”
Belly whips her head over to where he was standing. It shouldn’t be a surprise, even if they weren’t in a fight, she knows he would’ve been the first to volunteer but still, her heart sinks. She’s wondering if she should stay behind too, so they could resolve things between them when he finally meets her eyes. His expression is worried and apprehensive, like he was just as anxious about this distance between them.
As the others bundle up and head out the door, they slowly make their way over to one another at the end of the hallway.
Conrad reaches for her hand, just holds it for a second without speaking and Belly immediately feels like something has been made right in the world.
“Can we talk, when you get back?” He asks.
"I could stay, we could talk now?” She offers softly and he smiles now, shaking his head.
“No, go. You love sledding."
Belly grins. “You’re the one who taught me remember.”
Conrad squeezes her hand before gently releasing it.
“Please be careful.” He says and then he’s stepping back and disappearing into the living room.
****
Sledding is a blast. There’s only one toboggan so they take it in turns until Steven and Jeremiah come up with the idea of improvising with a surfboard.
That’s when it happens, on Belly’s turn going down.
There was a rock buried beneath the snow, invisible to the naked eye. It was only a matter time and horribly bad luck who was eventually going to be the one to ram into it. When the tip of the board hits the rock, Belly's moving way too fast to even attempt to right it and the board flies out from underneath her. Her body tumbles sideways into the cluster of oak trees that bordered the property and her left knee takes the brunt of the impact, slicing right open.
For a moment she can't feel anything but the cold wet snow seeping through the hole in her jeans and she mildly thinks how annoying it was that she had torn them.
But then the pain kicks in. It's sharp and searing, emulating mostly from her knee but her hands and elbows sting too.
Jeremiah and Taylor reach her first and both duck down on either side of her. Jeremiah uses his shoulder to block her view from the rest of her body.
“Hey Bells, don’t look at it, okay? It’s not that bad but don’t look.” Jeremiah’s voice is kind but unsteady and for some reason this is the first thing that makes her start to cry.
“Is Conrad…is Conrad here?” She asks, her voice breaking; the pain of her leg was so strong now that it was dizzying. All she wanted was Conrad; all she needed was for him to tell her she was okay, that everything was going to be okay.
Taylor, crouched by her head, takes her hand and squeezes it. “Conrad didn’t come with us, he stayed home with his mom, remember sweetie?”
Belly nods, tears continuing to spill down her face.
Steven is a wreck and no help, hands knotted together and shaking terribly.
“Holy shit, holy shit. Should we call 911? Her leg looks really fucking bad.” He stammers and Shayla grabs at his arm to steady him.
Jeremiah shakes his head. “No, I can carry her back to the house, Laurel will know what to do. Belly, I’m going to pick you up now, that okay?”
Even with how disorientated she felt, she knew there was no way in hell she’d be able to walk but she realizes a second later, as Jeremiah starts to scoop his arms around her, that he was only asking out of courtesy.
“Someone needs to run ahead, let them know what’s happened, hopefully they haven’t left yet.” Jeremiah grunts, fumbling to get a better grip of Belly’s body.
“I’ll do it, I’ll go.” Taylor offers, she looks desperately to Belly and then starts to rush across the snow covered grass.
“And get Conrad!” Jeremiah yells at her back.
****
He’s a fucking idiot.
It might as well be tattooed all over his body or painted across the sky for how much his head is screaming it at him.
To let his insecurities get the better of him, and worse still, to take them out on Belly. He loathed himself for that, for putting that on her, for making her feel guilty for it. If he were being honest, Jeremiah and Belly’s friendship didn’t even bother him. If anything, he appreciated how close they were; even when they were little they had been best friends in a way he and Belly weren’t, their temperaments the same, so joyful and carefree.
Despite this, despite knowing it, the pervasive belief that lived inside of him would not die. That he didn’t deserve Belly, that it was only a matter of time until she figured it out, truly it figured out, that she was wasting her time with him.
If he didn’t want to fuck this up though, it had to die. He thinks about the way she had looked at him last night, this morning, not 5 minutes ago. With so much love in her eyes. It wasn’t only silly to worry but stupid.
Thus, he’s a total fucking idiot.
After Belly and the others leave, he tries to get started on a book Cleveland had recommended to him but he gives up only a page. He sinks back into the couch, wishing he could run off his nervous energy when his mom calls out to him.
She wants to go for a drive and he doesn’t need convincing, it would be a great distraction.
It works for the most part, his mind is pulled towards focusing on his mother instead, on driving carefully through the snow until his phone starts ringing and Laurel’s name appears on the dashboard.
“Connie, how far away are you?” Her voice is tight, knotted with something Conrad unquestionably reads as panic.
“Not far, only a block or two, why? What’s happened?”
Laurel hesitates which she almost never does. “I don’t know the full details but Belly had a bit of accident. She’s on her way back to the house now and I know she’d appreciate if you were here.”
He was already looking for a place to turn around even before she’d mention Belly’s name, but his heart spikes when Laurel says it and the turn he makes is sharp, he has to work hard to not push down on the accelerator.
“Laurel, please tell me what happened.”
“Taylor was a little rattled when she was explaining it to me but it sounds like Belly got thrown off the turbofan after it hit a rock, and she’s hurt her leg. Jeremiah is carrying her back to the house. But I’m here and Cleveland is here and we’ll help her. Just focus on driving and I’ll see you soon.”
His throat is aching to the point of closure; he’s only a child again, vulnerable and overwhelmingly helpless.
“Okay, thanks Laur. Thank you."
And the call ends, Laurel’s name disappearing from the screen.
Like floodgates dispensing, terror fills Conrad’s chest, making it hard to breathe. For the past few weeks now he had started seeing a therapist through school and he thought it had been helping. But then something like this happened, or Laurel didn’t call him back after one of his mom’s treatments and he'd fall into these fear spirals that only seemed to break with either a full-blown panic attack or at the sound of Belly's voice.
He can feel one coming on now, the tightness of his chest increasing until something suddenly grabs onto his elbow, snapping him right out of it. He looks over to where his mom is sitting, using what little strength she has to care for him.
“She’ll be okay, honey, just breathe in and out for me, okay?”
Conrad breathes. His chest loosens a little; the fear recedes, like a wave he’s mastered.
Susannah doesn’t drop her hand from his elbow the entire rest of the car ride home.
****
Belly’s knee continues to bleed profusely, even with one of her gloves pushed against it to stem the flow.
Because of the way she’s slung in Jeremiah’s arms, it’s now all over her jacket, some of her hair and coating one of Jeremiah’s arms. From an outsiders view it probably looked like they’d both been involved in some type of horrific car crash.
They’d look a sight walking up to the house. Her mother was pretty good in an emergency, was usually someone you could rely on remaining level headed and even keeled but Belly wonders if it might be a different story when it was her own kid being carried through the doorway.
Laurel meets them on the deck and she does audibly react, covering her mouth with her hand but it’s only for a few seconds and then she’s jumping into action.
“Kids! Go warm up, there’s hot chocolate all ready in the kitchen and the fire is going. Try to stay out of the front hallway. Jere, bring her into that bathroom.”
Belly frantically turns her head around the room, trying to locate Conrad’s face.
“He's not here, honey. Susannah wanted to go for a drive but I just called and they’re on their way back, Cleveland is waiting for them on the porch.” Laurel explains and Belly feels relief flood through her body. Soon, soon, she would see him soon.
Jeremiah deposits her carefully onto the bathroom tiles and at Laurel’s instruction, he reluctantly shuffles back out to change out of his bloodied clothes.
“Don’t bullshit me, mom. How bad is it?” Belly asks, looking up at her mother with weary eyes and Laurel gives her a look that’s half rebuke, half sympathetic. She hands Belly a glass of water along with a couple of painkillers and then goes to work.
it's a quick assessment; the cut across Belly’s knee is deep but superficial and therefore wouldn’t need stitches. Laurel cleans it up, stops the bleeding and then helps Belly into the shower to wash off all the dirt and grime.
Belly sits on the floor of the tub, lets the hot water run down her back and through her hair. The painkillers were starting to kick in but she felt unspeakably winded, like she’d just done a triathlon. By the end of her shower, she can barely pull her pajamas on. The idea of having to limp her way all the way to the other end of the house and up to her bedroom sounds like pure hell.
As if reading her mind, Laurel guides her up onto her feet, rubbing at her back.
“We’ll bring you up to Connie’s room to take a nap, he’ll be there when you wake up, how does that sound bean?”
It sounds so perfect Belly starts to cry again as she nods. Her mother gently wipes her cheeks, strengths her grip over her shoulders and together they hobble out of the bathroom and up the stairs.
Conrad’s sheets are freshly washed and the smell of the detergent mixed with his familiar odor is soothing. Almost instantly, Belly falls asleep.
It feels like only a few minutes have gone by, barely that, when she’s awoken by the mattress dipping and then Conrad’s hands are gently carding through her hair and he’s kissing her temple.
“Hi.” She whispers, blinking awake. Conrad looks pained and rattled. Clutched in one hand were his keys, his coat still zipped up, like he’d flown right out of the car before parking it.
“Thought I told you to be careful.” He says gently.
She cracks a smile and tugs on his coat.
“I’m a terrible listener. Come lay down with me.”
Conrad wants to see her leg first, asks to hear the story even though the story hadn’t really changed from the first time he’d heard it from Laurel over the phone. He gently inspects her knee, careful of the gauze and tape and then checks the bruises on her hands and elbow.
"Are you in pain at all?” He asks, looking even more upset than he had before, as if he’d been the one to plant the tree, as if he had thrown her into it himself.
Belly shakes her head. The Tylenol was still working, she felt stiff and sleepy but not sore. “I’m okay but I could use a distraction.” She pulls on his coat now, helping him take it off.
He takes off his shoes too and then crawls into bed.
“Typical right. Same old clumsy Belly.” She jokes in an attempt to make him smile.
“Fearless and bad luck, Belly.” He offers as an alternative and rests his forehead against hers, slipping one hand to the small of her back and rubbing his thumb along the notches of her spine.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey,” She hushes, “It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re here now.”
Conrad still looks unsatisfied. He leans in, presses his lips to her forehead.
“I’m sorry.” He repeats and she knows he’s now referring to their earlier argument.
“You’re worried I’ll go back to him, aren’t you?” She gently strokes his cheek and Conrad averts his eyes but leans into her touch.
“I just...I just keep thinking that one day you'll realize you've made a mistake. You'll realize that I'm not who you want and that you could do better."
Belly for a moment can only look at him as it dawned on her: that the reason why Conrad had kept her at arm's length for so long was not because he didn’t feel the same way, was not because he wasn't just as in love but because he couldn’t possibly understand how she could be. She makes a vow to herself then, that she would make it a point for the rest of their lives to make sure he did finally understand it. That he believed it.
"Baby, listen to me, okay, listen, I am so lucky. I am so so lucky because I don't ever need to daydream, I don't ever need to pretend I'm the princess in the movies, don't you get it? You’re my movie. You are the one who I want when I’m hurt, who I first want to see when I’m happy, I will always want it to be you first."
Conrad looks bashful now, near shy. “Really?” He asks softly.
Belly smiles. “Yes. Really.”
He settles in closer to her, rubs his hand over the bandage on her knee. “I should’ve asked you to stay behind before, the idea that something happened to you and we couldn’t…knowing that I couldn’t do anything, that I had left it that way between us….."
She can hear the panic in his voice, feels the way he's holding onto her, as if afraid she'll disappear right in his arms.
Gently, she lifts his chin to meet her eyes.
“Tell me one thing you hear?”
Conrad shoots her a mildly exasperated look; it was a mindfulness tool his therapist had given him, one that was supposed to help him on the cusp of a panic attack or even in the middle of one. Belly and him sometimes practiced on the phone, so the association with it wasn’t so scary or intimidating. It’s the first time she’s asked him to do it when he has actually felt anxious.
“Do it. Humor me.”
Conrad sighs. “Fine. Your voice.”
Belly smiles softly, thumbing at his chin. “Two things you see?”
His eyes flick between hers. “Two big brown eyes looking at mine.”
“Three things you can smell?”
Conrad gently takes her hand and kisses her wrist. “Laundry soap. Your shampoo. You.”
Her breath catches, goosebumps rising along her arms.
“Four things...four things you can touch?”
He gives her a knowing, familiar shit-eating grin and then slowly leans up above her. “One,” he whispers and brushes his lips against her forehead, “two,” he kisses her nose, “three,” gently, he creates an invisible line down her neck with his lips.
“Four.” He says and kisses her, slow and deliberate, making it last as long as he can and by the time he pulls back there's a current of heat pulsating down her body.
“I’d, ah, I’d ask for taste but I think you found it.” Belly says in a strained voice.
“No,” Conrad starts and pushes off the comforter, trailing his mouth down her body until he reaches her hips. Belly, restless, helps him tug down her pajama bottoms, gets a fistful of his hair in her hands as he breathes warm air against her skin, “Think I’ll keep looking.”
She was wrong before, winter in Cousins actually just might be better than summer.
Fin.