Creep

I went to Mum’s first. I went and it was so nice to be with her that I stayed.

For a week.

I asked her not to tell Tom I was there but I still thought that she did. He didn’t come over and he didn’t call.

On my seventh night there, mum found me crying in my bedroom.

“Go home, darling. Tom misses you. Why are you still here?”

I rested my head on her shoulder. “Shame, I suppose.”

She rubbed my back gently. “He’ll forgive you. He certainly owes you one.”

She chuckled and though I found it funny, I couldn’t laugh.

I stood up. “I want to go back. I’m a mess. I can’t figure myself out. How is he supposed to put up with me?”

“Well to be honest, I’ve no idea, but he really, really wants to.”

I wiped my eyes and sighed. “Off I go to face my doom.”

She stood up and kissed my cheek.

I walked over to Tom’s flat. To my flat. I tried not to cry while I walked up the stairs. I tried not to cry when I locked on the door, because I had forgotten my key.

I heard footsteps and then he pulled the door open.

His face fell, his brow furrowed, and then it all relaxed and he stared at me. “You’re here.”

I stepped past him and went inside. “Yeah, I live here.”

“Do you?” he asked, looking at me quizzically.

“Yes.”

“All the time, or just when you want to?”

The desire to cry was gone.

“All the time. Forever.”

His brow rose up. I noticed he was wearing the shirt he’d worn when we’d gone dancing. It looked nice.

“Forever?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry, and I understand if you can’t really trust me.”

He sat down on the couch. “Why did you leave?”

I sat down on the chair across from him. “I was scared, and I didn’t like who I was becoming. I wasn’t sure if I was changing because of you or because of me and I needed a few days to figure out what I wanted, but it’s just you. Even if I have to be like this,” I gestured to my body, “I can do that to be with you, because being like this and being with you is worth more than being accepted by everyone. By my father. By my friends.”

He sat for quite a while before getting up and moving to kneel in front of me.

“You have to mean it, Harriett. I know I don’t deserve it but if you’re going to be with me, be with me.”

I smiled softly and placed my hands on either side of his head. “I know nothing about myself besides the fact that I do want to be with you.”

He smiled back and kissed me. “We’ll figure out the rest together, okay?”

I slid down into his lap. I was the most comfortable I had ever felt.

--Epilogue--

We thought we would never get what we deserved. We gained visitation rights into the outside world but we were stuck on our reservations, the quality of which never seemed to improve.

And then a band of rebels broke out, starting in America with what seemed to be a revolution, and they broke out everywhere. They spread wide and far and, unable to see any other way, Tom and I joined, as well. Mum refused, and I understood.

Many were killed, and many went to jail, all while our ranks increased in numbers by the thousands, daily.

I don’t know how it happened and still, I can’t remember when, but we became the majority population.

The president. Prime Minister. All politicians. All leaders. All of us.

We had houses and pets and we were society.

We were accepted, after a ten year war.

Fifteen years after our marriage, I sat on the porch. A little girl played in the yard; she was six years old and would never grow older. Her parents died in the war and we had been taking care of her since. Her name was Reagan.

Tom pulled up in the driveway. Sunrise was nearing, and I was just about to take Reagan inside.

I stood up, waiting for him, and I smiled. I had never imagined my life could be like this. I had only hoped for happiness; not the near perfection of waiting on the porch with my daughter as my husband arrived home from work.

Finally, I had my happy ending.