Status: Finished
Matt Sanders
18
The children were practicing their parts in Mrs. Wellhaven still frowned on an audience, so more and more Matt and Aubree used that as an excuse to slip away.
They were not dates. Or at least Matt told himself they were not dates.
Because mostly they were moments stolen from crowded schedules.
A quick walk around the block the school was on. A cup of coffee in the cafeteria. A shared crossword puzzle and biscotti at Bookworms cafe down the street. Sometimes, they'd sit in his truck, the heater blasting, just talking or sharing a newspaper. Once they had a snowball fight in the parking lot.
There was a time when all this waiting for Ace to finish rehearsals would have grated on Matt. Now he looked forward to every minute he got to spend with his daughter's teacher.
When he was with Aubree, Matt had the strangest sensation that he was discovering the town he had always lived in as if it was brand-new to him.
He had never ridden the horse-drawn wagon that was driven around town for the three weeks before Christmas. Now he did. He had never taken the Light Tour, following a map through the town of the best Christmas decorated properties, but one night, when the were in a late rehearsal, he and Aubree did that. He had never been in Canterbury Tails, the pet store, but one time they went in and played on the floor with the new golden retriever puppies that would be ready to go home for Christmas. Aubree guided him through the foreign land of the antiques stores and the book stores and the art galleries. he'd lived here his whole life, and he saw it's museum for the first time with her at his side.
Aubree's sense of wonder, he joy in discovery, was obviously part of what made her a teacher her students adored. But it was also what gave Matt the sensation that it was all brand-new, an adventure that had always been right in front of him all his life but that he had missed completely.
His own sense of wonder, his joy in discovery, seemed to be all about her. more and more her hand found it's way to his, and he savored the feeling of it: soft and small within his larger one.
He kissed her. At first lightly, casually, but as time went on, the kisses deepened and instead of slaking some desire inside of him the taste of her fueled it.
Matt found himself telling Aubree things he had never told another person, and she told him things he suspected she had ever told another person.
Matt began to feel things about Aubree that he had never felt. He would never said it was a better relationship than what he had had with his wife.
But it was different.
He and Valery had gown up together, he had known her forever. he had loved her, and he had loved David, and when the time came he had kept his vow to David gladly.
But now, with Aubree, sometimes Matt would remember Valery's words to him, a long time ago.
I wish you could know what it is to fall in love, Matt.
Stop it, Val, I love you.
No. Head over heels, I can't breathe, think, function. That kind of fall-in-love.
At the time, he had thought she was crazy. He hadn't felt he could love anybody anymore than he loved her.
But now with Aubree, he saw that there were different kinds of love. If felt as if Valery's wish for him was coming true.
You've been my angel, Sanders. Now I'll be yours.
For the most pragmatic man in the world to even consider those words and wonder if they could be true was a measure of what was happening to him.
Matt felt as if he was making a choice, saying yes to something that was bigger than him. He had never felt like this: breathless with wanting, on fire with life and longing.
The simplest things: discussing the newspaper, opening a fortune cookie at a Chinese-food restaurant, playing with a puppy on the floor, it all made him feel so intensely alive, almost as if he had sleepwalked his way through life, and now the touch of her lips, her eyes on his, or her hand folded into his hand, were making him come fully gloriously awake.
He was aware of feeling like a teenage boy around Aubree, wanting to show off for her. He loved how he could make her eyes catch on his muscles when he flexed, how his breath would stop in his chest when she caught the tip of that little pink tongue between her teeth.
He loved the stolen kisses, the sizzling moments of pure awareness, the desire building to heat that could melt steel. He loved the smoky look that would cloud her green eyes after they kissed.
And he loved it that they didn't give in, as he had with Valery. That they let the wanting become a part of the tantalizing sizzle of being together.
he felt dazzled, as if he was conducting an old-fashioned courtship, as if he had become the gentleman she had promised him she could see, even when no one else ever had.
When matt was not with Aubree it felt as if the color had leeched from his world, as surely as the color leeched from the autumn leaves, stealing their reds and golds and browns until they were just brown.
He anticipated seeing her. He found himself thinking of little ways to win that smile. He sent her a single orchid in a candleholder. he made her little trinkets.
Aubree's relationship with Ace was a marvel. She knew everything there was to know about little girls. She knew about hair bows and pink shoes and underwear with the days of the week embroidered on each pair. She knew about doll's clothes, and Hannah Montana and baking things.
His little girl was blossoming like a cactus that had waited for Christmas.
But through it all, Matt felt as if he was in a love-hate relationship with himself, as if his surrender to all these good things and good feelings was temporary.
He liked the way if felt to be excited about life, to explore the mysteries and gift of another human being. But at the same time he hated the sensation of losing control.
the feeling of choosing this was leaving him. because with every day that Aubree's laughter and her nearness filled his life with light, it felt the choice to walk away was a door that was closing.
What man could choose to go back to the darkness after he had been in the Light?
Maybe walking a great distance in darkness was even about this: recognizing the Light when you feel it. Honoring it by knowing it was something not to be taken for granted.
Matt was beginning to see the events of his life in a larger perspective.
How would you even know it was light, if you had never known darkness?
He was also accustomed to being a man of action that these thoughts, deep, and complex, troubled him.
And it troubled him even more when he realized what was happening.
He could call it whatever he wanted: discovering the Light, learning to play again, having fun, being awake.
But all those names could not really distance him from the truth that it was far deeper than any of the labels he was trying to attach to it.
Matt knew it when he found himself alone, shopping, a weekday when both Aubree and Ace were at school.
The thing was, he knew darn well he had not come here to shop for Ace. No, Ace's parcels were spilling out from under their Christmas tree in a pile so high and wide they were taking over the living room.
No, Matt had taken advantage of the fact Aubree and Ace were in school to make the trip to the store by himself to fine something to give Aubree for Christmas.
He wasn't sure what. The hammer in the bag from the building supply store--a nice little 12-ounce curved-claw trim hammer--didn't quite cut it.
He wanted something that would let her know what she had come to mean to him. He wanted something so special. Something spectacular. And yet subtle at the same time.
Something that would make that light come over in her face, the one that he was starting to live for.
Something....but what?
Everything he looked at seemed wrong. Gloves? Ridiculously impersonal. Hat and scarf? Too generic. Books? Too stuffy. Lingerie? Not nearly stuffy enough.
He found himself standing in the window of Orchid Jewelers in the mall he had never once been to before he met Aubree.
Maybe, he found himself thinking, I should just make you something.
All around him was the bustle of shoppers, the tinkle of bells, carolers, the ho-ho-ho of the mall Santa.
All these things--the noises, the colors, the decorations, the music, the good cheer--all those things a mere year ago would have made him cringe.
he could feel the healing happening in the fact he felt the Christmas excitement, he was enjoying being a part of it, instead of a part from it.
And then he realized he was staring at something in the window of Orchid Jewelers. It was something that made him understand exactly what was happening to him.
Matt Sanders realized he was falling in love. The exact kind of love Valery had once wished for him.
That can't-breath, can't-think, can't-function kind that he had once thought sounded awful.
And Matt realized if he didn't make a choice about that soon, if he didn't stop falling, and start making some conscious decision, the ability to choose might be taken away from him completely.
He might become helpless in the face of the enormous power of that thing called love.
If there was a word that had not appeared in a Sanders vocabulary for several centuries, it was that one.
Helpless
But that's exactly what he felt as he pushed open the door to the jewelry shop, walked in and went to the counter.
A perky girl in a santa hat came and smiled at him.
"Can I help you, sir?"
Last chance to break and make a run for it.
Helpless.
"I'd like to see that ring," Matt said, surprised by how strong his voice was. How absolutely sure. "The one in the window."
He felt a breath on his neck. He whirled and looked around the store. He was the only customer in it.
It must have been the bells in the mall that made him think he had heard Valery laughing. That made him think he had heard her breath, yes.
They were not dates. Or at least Matt told himself they were not dates.
Because mostly they were moments stolen from crowded schedules.
A quick walk around the block the school was on. A cup of coffee in the cafeteria. A shared crossword puzzle and biscotti at Bookworms cafe down the street. Sometimes, they'd sit in his truck, the heater blasting, just talking or sharing a newspaper. Once they had a snowball fight in the parking lot.
There was a time when all this waiting for Ace to finish rehearsals would have grated on Matt. Now he looked forward to every minute he got to spend with his daughter's teacher.
When he was with Aubree, Matt had the strangest sensation that he was discovering the town he had always lived in as if it was brand-new to him.
He had never ridden the horse-drawn wagon that was driven around town for the three weeks before Christmas. Now he did. He had never taken the Light Tour, following a map through the town of the best Christmas decorated properties, but one night, when the were in a late rehearsal, he and Aubree did that. He had never been in Canterbury Tails, the pet store, but one time they went in and played on the floor with the new golden retriever puppies that would be ready to go home for Christmas. Aubree guided him through the foreign land of the antiques stores and the book stores and the art galleries. he'd lived here his whole life, and he saw it's museum for the first time with her at his side.
Aubree's sense of wonder, he joy in discovery, was obviously part of what made her a teacher her students adored. But it was also what gave Matt the sensation that it was all brand-new, an adventure that had always been right in front of him all his life but that he had missed completely.
His own sense of wonder, his joy in discovery, seemed to be all about her. more and more her hand found it's way to his, and he savored the feeling of it: soft and small within his larger one.
He kissed her. At first lightly, casually, but as time went on, the kisses deepened and instead of slaking some desire inside of him the taste of her fueled it.
Matt found himself telling Aubree things he had never told another person, and she told him things he suspected she had ever told another person.
Matt began to feel things about Aubree that he had never felt. He would never said it was a better relationship than what he had had with his wife.
But it was different.
He and Valery had gown up together, he had known her forever. he had loved her, and he had loved David, and when the time came he had kept his vow to David gladly.
But now, with Aubree, sometimes Matt would remember Valery's words to him, a long time ago.
I wish you could know what it is to fall in love, Matt.
Stop it, Val, I love you.
No. Head over heels, I can't breathe, think, function. That kind of fall-in-love.
At the time, he had thought she was crazy. He hadn't felt he could love anybody anymore than he loved her.
But now with Aubree, he saw that there were different kinds of love. If felt as if Valery's wish for him was coming true.
You've been my angel, Sanders. Now I'll be yours.
For the most pragmatic man in the world to even consider those words and wonder if they could be true was a measure of what was happening to him.
Matt felt as if he was making a choice, saying yes to something that was bigger than him. He had never felt like this: breathless with wanting, on fire with life and longing.
The simplest things: discussing the newspaper, opening a fortune cookie at a Chinese-food restaurant, playing with a puppy on the floor, it all made him feel so intensely alive, almost as if he had sleepwalked his way through life, and now the touch of her lips, her eyes on his, or her hand folded into his hand, were making him come fully gloriously awake.
He was aware of feeling like a teenage boy around Aubree, wanting to show off for her. He loved how he could make her eyes catch on his muscles when he flexed, how his breath would stop in his chest when she caught the tip of that little pink tongue between her teeth.
He loved the stolen kisses, the sizzling moments of pure awareness, the desire building to heat that could melt steel. He loved the smoky look that would cloud her green eyes after they kissed.
And he loved it that they didn't give in, as he had with Valery. That they let the wanting become a part of the tantalizing sizzle of being together.
he felt dazzled, as if he was conducting an old-fashioned courtship, as if he had become the gentleman she had promised him she could see, even when no one else ever had.
When matt was not with Aubree it felt as if the color had leeched from his world, as surely as the color leeched from the autumn leaves, stealing their reds and golds and browns until they were just brown.
He anticipated seeing her. He found himself thinking of little ways to win that smile. He sent her a single orchid in a candleholder. he made her little trinkets.
Aubree's relationship with Ace was a marvel. She knew everything there was to know about little girls. She knew about hair bows and pink shoes and underwear with the days of the week embroidered on each pair. She knew about doll's clothes, and Hannah Montana and baking things.
His little girl was blossoming like a cactus that had waited for Christmas.
But through it all, Matt felt as if he was in a love-hate relationship with himself, as if his surrender to all these good things and good feelings was temporary.
He liked the way if felt to be excited about life, to explore the mysteries and gift of another human being. But at the same time he hated the sensation of losing control.
the feeling of choosing this was leaving him. because with every day that Aubree's laughter and her nearness filled his life with light, it felt the choice to walk away was a door that was closing.
What man could choose to go back to the darkness after he had been in the Light?
Maybe walking a great distance in darkness was even about this: recognizing the Light when you feel it. Honoring it by knowing it was something not to be taken for granted.
Matt was beginning to see the events of his life in a larger perspective.
How would you even know it was light, if you had never known darkness?
He was also accustomed to being a man of action that these thoughts, deep, and complex, troubled him.
And it troubled him even more when he realized what was happening.
He could call it whatever he wanted: discovering the Light, learning to play again, having fun, being awake.
But all those names could not really distance him from the truth that it was far deeper than any of the labels he was trying to attach to it.
Matt knew it when he found himself alone, shopping, a weekday when both Aubree and Ace were at school.
The thing was, he knew darn well he had not come here to shop for Ace. No, Ace's parcels were spilling out from under their Christmas tree in a pile so high and wide they were taking over the living room.
No, Matt had taken advantage of the fact Aubree and Ace were in school to make the trip to the store by himself to fine something to give Aubree for Christmas.
He wasn't sure what. The hammer in the bag from the building supply store--a nice little 12-ounce curved-claw trim hammer--didn't quite cut it.
He wanted something that would let her know what she had come to mean to him. He wanted something so special. Something spectacular. And yet subtle at the same time.
Something that would make that light come over in her face, the one that he was starting to live for.
Something....but what?
Everything he looked at seemed wrong. Gloves? Ridiculously impersonal. Hat and scarf? Too generic. Books? Too stuffy. Lingerie? Not nearly stuffy enough.
He found himself standing in the window of Orchid Jewelers in the mall he had never once been to before he met Aubree.
Maybe, he found himself thinking, I should just make you something.
All around him was the bustle of shoppers, the tinkle of bells, carolers, the ho-ho-ho of the mall Santa.
All these things--the noises, the colors, the decorations, the music, the good cheer--all those things a mere year ago would have made him cringe.
he could feel the healing happening in the fact he felt the Christmas excitement, he was enjoying being a part of it, instead of a part from it.
And then he realized he was staring at something in the window of Orchid Jewelers. It was something that made him understand exactly what was happening to him.
Matt Sanders realized he was falling in love. The exact kind of love Valery had once wished for him.
That can't-breath, can't-think, can't-function kind that he had once thought sounded awful.
And Matt realized if he didn't make a choice about that soon, if he didn't stop falling, and start making some conscious decision, the ability to choose might be taken away from him completely.
He might become helpless in the face of the enormous power of that thing called love.
If there was a word that had not appeared in a Sanders vocabulary for several centuries, it was that one.
Helpless
But that's exactly what he felt as he pushed open the door to the jewelry shop, walked in and went to the counter.
A perky girl in a santa hat came and smiled at him.
"Can I help you, sir?"
Last chance to break and make a run for it.
Helpless.
"I'd like to see that ring," Matt said, surprised by how strong his voice was. How absolutely sure. "The one in the window."
He felt a breath on his neck. He whirled and looked around the store. He was the only customer in it.
It must have been the bells in the mall that made him think he had heard Valery laughing. That made him think he had heard her breath, yes.