Wendell pulled a chair away from the workbench.<\/p>\n
He offered it to me without saying anything.<\/p>\n
I sat down.<\/p>\n
He remained standing for a moment, looking at the photographs as if he needed them to help him speak.<\/p>\n
Then he took another chair and placed it across from mine.<\/p>\n
The radio continued playing.<\/p>\n
I could hear the faint hum of something running elsewhere in the garage.<\/p>\n
Ordinary sounds.<\/p>\n
They helped me settle myself.<\/p>\n
I had been prepared for an argument when I discovered the photographs.<\/p>\n
I had been prepared to hear that the message belonged to somebody else.<\/p>\n
I had even prepared myself for the possibility that Wendell had been hiding a part of his life that would make me question whether I knew him at all.<\/p>\n
I had not prepared myself for tenderness.<\/p>\n
That was what unsettled me.<\/p>\n
The words on the paper were not complicated.<\/p>\n
They did not explain anything.<\/p>\n
Yet they had made me feel something I hadn't felt since Dwight died.<\/p>\n
I felt seen.<\/p>\n
I felt remembered.<\/p>\n
And I felt foolish for all the times I had wondered whether Wendell cared enough to let me into his world.<\/p>\n
I wasn't ready to forgive him simply because I had found evidence of affection.<\/p>\n
I knew better than that.<\/p>\n
A person could care about you and still hurt you.<\/p>\n
A person could mean well and still leave you feeling alone.<\/p>\n
I had learned those things long before I met Wendell.<\/p>\n
I needed him to understand them too.<\/p>\n
He folded his hands between his knees.<\/p>\n
"I should have talked to you about this earlier."<\/p>\n
"Yes," I said.<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
There was no argument.<\/p>\n
That surprised me.<\/p>\n
I had expected him to explain why his behavior made sense from his side.<\/p>\n
Instead, he accepted what I said.<\/p>\n
"I thought I could get everything ready before I told you."<\/p>\n
"Ready for what?"<\/p>\n
He glanced toward the yellow paint.<\/p>\n
"For something I wanted to do."<\/p>\n
I studied him.<\/p>\n
"You could have told me that."<\/p>\n
"I could have."<\/p>\n
"Even if you weren't finished."<\/p>\n
He nodded again.<\/p>\n
"Even then."<\/p>\n
The simple agreement took some of the fight out of me.<\/p>\n
I had been bracing myself to defend my right to ask questions.<\/p>\n
I hadn't expected him to admit that I had a reason to ask them.<\/p>\n
For a while, neither of us spoke.<\/p>\n
I looked at the photographs.<\/p>\n
I wanted to understand what they meant to him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to know why he had chosen that particular place to keep them.<\/p>\n
I also wanted to know whether the date had been written there long before I discovered it.<\/p>\n
But I didn't ask all those questions at once.<\/p>\n
I was learning, slowly, that getting an answer required more than collecting questions.<\/p>\n
It required listening.<\/p>\n
And Wendell, for all his silence, was trying to speak.<\/p>\n
"I wasn't trying to keep you out forever," he said.<\/p>\n
"How long were you planning to keep me out?"<\/p>\n
He looked uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
"Not forever."<\/p>\n
I raised my eyebrows.<\/p>\n
He gave a short, embarrassed laugh.<\/p>\n
"That sounded better in my head."<\/p>\n
Despite myself, I smiled.<\/p>\n
It was the first time either of us had smiled since I turned around and found him standing at the top of the ramp.<\/p>\n
The moment didn't fix anything.<\/p>\n
But it reminded me that we were still two people who could speak honestly to each other.<\/p>\n
I wanted more of that.<\/p>\n
"I don't need you to impress me," I said.<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
"I don't need a house that looks like a magazine."<\/p>\n
He smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
"Good. You wouldn't find one."<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
The sound surprised me.<\/p>\n
It also made my eyes fill again, which was inconvenient.<\/p>\n
I looked away and pretended to study the workbench.<\/p>\n
Wendell didn't point it out.<\/p>\n
That was one of the things I appreciated about him.<\/p>\n
He didn't always know what to say, but he often knew when not to say anything.<\/p>\n
"I was worried you'd see everything and think differently of me," he admitted.<\/p>\n
I turned back toward him.<\/p>\n
"Why would I?"<\/p>\n
He shrugged.<\/p>\n
"People have their ideas about how things should look."<\/p>\n
"People aren't the ones living your life."<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"And I'm not interested in judging you over a room that needs work."<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
I watched him carefully.<\/p>\n
There was more he wasn't saying.<\/p>\n
I could feel it in the way he kept glancing toward the wall.<\/p>\n
But for the first time, I didn't feel that he was trying to make me forget my questions.<\/p>\n
He seemed to be gathering the courage to answer them.<\/p>\n
"I wanted you to see it when I was finished," he said.<\/p>\n
"See what?"<\/p>\n
He looked toward the ramp.<\/p>\n
Then he looked at me.<\/p>\n
"The place."<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
He added, "The way I wanted it to be."<\/p>\n
I let the words settle.<\/p>\n
That explanation was still incomplete.<\/p>\n
But it was the first one that sounded like a real answer.<\/p>\n
I had assumed he was ashamed of his home.<\/p>\n
Perhaps I had been wrong.<\/p>\n
Perhaps he was worried that I would see something unfinished and misunderstand what it meant to him.<\/p>\n
I could understand that.<\/p>\n
I had things in my own house I wished were different.<\/p>\n
There were repairs I had postponed.<\/p>\n
There were boxes I hadn't opened since Dwight's death.<\/p>\n
There were corners I avoided because looking at them made me remember the life I had lost.<\/p>\n
A home could hold more than furniture.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it held expectations.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it held grief.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it held plans that had never found their proper moment.<\/p>\n
I looked at Wendell and wondered what his house held.<\/p>\n
He seemed to read the question in my face.<\/p>\n
"There's a lot I wanted to do," he said.<\/p>\n
"You don't have to finish everything before I can visit."<\/p>\n
"I know that now."<\/p>\n
I believed he meant it.<\/p>\n
I wasn't sure he fully understood it yet.<\/p>\n
There is a difference between hearing what someone says and allowing yourself to believe it.<\/p>\n
I had made that mistake too.<\/p>\n
I had heard Wendell tell me that everything was fine, and I had accepted the words because I wanted them to be true.<\/p>\n
Now I needed us both to do better.<\/p>\n
I leaned back in the chair.<\/p>\n
"I need you to tell me things, Wendell."<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
"Even when they're uncomfortable."<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
"I'm not asking you to tell me every private thought you have."<\/p>\n
"I understand."<\/p>\n
"But if we're going to keep seeing each other, I can't be the only one taking a chance."<\/p>\n
He lowered his head.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I wondered whether I had gone too far.<\/p>\n
Then he looked up again.<\/p>\n
"You're right."<\/p>\n
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.<\/p>\n
It wasn't a grand declaration.<\/p>\n
It wasn't a promise that every difficulty between us would disappear.<\/p>\n
It was simply an acknowledgment.<\/p>\n
Sometimes that is where a difficult conversation has to begin.<\/p>\n
I looked again at the photographs.<\/p>\n
The yellow paper had started to curl slightly at one corner.<\/p>\n
I wanted to straighten it, but I kept my hands in my lap.<\/p>\n
The message belonged to Wendell.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to touch anything else until I understood what he wanted me to know.<\/p>\n
"Can I ask you one more thing?"<\/p>\n
"Anything."<\/p>\n
"Why Winnie?"<\/p>\n
He blinked.<\/p>\n
Then he smiled, a real smile this time.<\/p>\n
"Because that's what I call you."<\/p>\n
I felt my cheeks warm.<\/p>\n
"I know that."<\/p>\n
"Then I'm not sure I understand the question."<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
"I mean, why did you write it there? Why those words?"<\/p>\n
His smile faded into something gentler.<\/p>\n
He looked at the paper again.<\/p>\n
"Because I wanted you to know it was meant for you."<\/p>\n
The answer was simple.<\/p>\n
It was also the first one that made the whole room feel quiet in a different way.<\/p>\n
I didn't need him to explain what the name meant.<\/p>\n
I knew.<\/p>\n
What I needed to understand was why he had been so afraid to let me see it.<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
"Next time, tell me before I have to find things out for myself."<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
"I will."<\/p>\n
I didn't ask him to swear it.<\/p>\n
I had learned that promises were only useful when the person making them understood what they were promising.<\/p>\n
For now, I was willing to let his answer stand.<\/p>\n
Wendell rose and switched off the radio.<\/p>\n
The sudden silence felt strange.<\/p>\n
He looked toward the photographs once more.<\/p>\n
Then he turned back to me.<\/p>\n
"There's something else I should tell you."<\/p>\n
I sat a little straighter.<\/p>\n
He seemed nervous again, but this time he didn't look as though he wanted to escape the conversation.<\/p>\n
He looked as though he had finally decided to have it.<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
Wendell pulled a chair away from the workbench. He offered it to me without saying anything. I sat down. He remained standing for a moment, looking at the photographs as … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":36506,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-36512","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36512","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=36512"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36512\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":36532,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36512\/revisions\/36532"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/36506"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=36512"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=36512"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=36512"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}