Autumn/Winter Romance - Final Part

The following few months were a whirlwind. I called my mom after Robert and I left the beach and went somewhere warm, and she screamed when I told her. The screaming was quickly followed by giddy laughter. Our friends were extremely happy for the two of us, having known from the Halloween interaction we had that we would end up together.

But all was not happy. My mom found out that we didn’t want children, and she thought of nothing else since. For three days, she was calling or texting me as to why I would deny her the joy of being a grandma. I told her constantly that it was something Robert and I agreed on, and that it wasn’t because I believed she would be a horrible grandma. Once I mentioned Robert by name, she got it into her head that he had influenced my decision. And after thinking about it, I began to wonder if she wasn’t right.

I called Robert, and we decided to meet at the library, where I was closing for the night. Robert arrived just as the last patron was leaving, and I locked the door behind him.

“What is wrong, Sloane?”

“My mom won’t let the no children thing go, and it’s grating on my last nerve.”

“It isn’t her decision to make, it was ours. What has she said?”

“That you have influenced my decision to not have children.” Robert scoffed, spinning on his heel in disbelief. “The trouble is, I am beginning to think she has a point.” Robert once again spun around, looking at me in shock.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“About us not wanting kids. I did want children, until you and I met.”

Robert’s face turned a bright shade of crimson. “Are you on antibiotics or something right now? You were the one who brought up not having children. I just agreed with you, because I was of the same opinion. How was your mom able to influence your mind after three days of texts and phone calls?”

“She made me see reason, after I hung up the phone with her.” Robert stood there, just shaking his head. “Don’t shake your head at me! Help me understand if you have influenced me in any way.”

“Are you serious? No, I have not influenced you in any way! You were the first one to bring up not having kids, and because I was on the same page, I agreed with you. From day one, you and I have been on the same page, and now because of your mother, whom you yourself have called a head-case, it has all changed?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Sloane, this is ridiculous. Have you even told your mom you’re asexual? Because maybe if you did, she would understand why you’re not having children.” We stood in quiet opposition. “So, have you told her?” My silence was enough of an answer for him.

“You know what, Sloane? I don’t think I can marry someone who can’t be truthful with their mother. Why don’t you call me when you have spoken to your mom about your big secret. Until then, we are done.”

Before I could say anything, he had unlocked the door, and slammed it behind him. It took me five minutes before the reality hit me, and I fell to the floor in tears.

*******************

For days, I was a zombie. Friends and my mom tried to pull me out of my funk, but nothing worked. The first thing I did was ensure that there were no photos of the two of us where I could see them. That only lasted so long, because I had forgot about my computer and my phone. My mom was curious as to what caused the break-up, and I could only tell her, “a difference of opinion.” After a week of wallowing in my pain, I went back to work.

Before I knew it, it had been two months, and my birthday was quickly approaching. I had heard things about Robert in passing of patrons of the library, and it made me wish that one of us would crack and reach out for communication.

By my birthday, I knew I was miserable, and I knew I had to tell my mother about my being asexual. I knew it would take a little more time to work up the courage.

It was a month later, on August 21, that I went to my mom’s in Peabody to tell her the truth.

“Mom, I have to tell you something. And I think it is best if you sit down.” Clearly concerned, she took a seat at the dining table. “The reason Rob and I broke up was because I hadn’t told you that I am asexual, and that he couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t be honest with their mom.”

“What is asexual?”

“It is the lack of sexual attraction towards someone. While I think Robert is a nice-looking man, I have no desire to have sex with him. Hence the reason he and I don’t want children, as he is asexual too.”

She sat back against the chair, looking stunned.

“What is the matter with you? Why can’t you be normal?”

“Goodbye mom,” I said, getting up and walking out of the house. I drove to the nearby park, texted Robert to say that I told her, and then drove back to Forsyte Cove.

************************

In Peabody, Sloane’s mother had called her sister to discuss Sloane’s “affliction.” Sloane’s Aunt Geraldine rushed over, and talked to her sister over coffees in the dining room.

“So, what did Sloane say when she came over? What is the news she had?”

“She is asexual, apparently. What that means is she— “

“I know what it means, Claudia. And how did you respond to this revelation?”

“I asked her why she couldn’t be normal.” Geraldine somehow managed to not spit out her coffee or pour it on her sister’s head.

“How could you be so cruel? She opened herself up to you, and you go and say that. What else did she say?”

“She said that the reason she and Robert broke up was because he said he couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t be honest with their mother.” Geraldine dropped her head onto the table, groaning loudly.

“Claudia, there is nothing wrong with Sloane. She doesn’t find people sexually attractive, and yet she was happy. She had managed to find someone who felt the same way she did, and it fell apart because she likely knew you wouldn’t take the news well. Have you noticed how sad she has been these last three months?”

“Of course, but what can I do?”

“Drive down to Forsyte Cove and tell her that you’re an idiot and beg her for forgiveness.” Claudia nods her head solemnly, and thanks her sister for her candor.

*********************

Two days later, Robert replied to my text with a smiley face emoji. My mom was coming down to talk, which I was facing with a sense of dread. When I heard the knock on the door, I took a deep breath, went to open it.

“Sloane, I was wrong to say what I did. After talking to Aunt Geraldine, I realized I was wrong to respond how I did to your confession. And frankly, you should have stood up to me months ago, when I was giving you grief about not having children, so you wouldn’t have lost a good man.”

“I should have, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. And now I don’t know if he will talk to me again. I would deserve it if he didn’t.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she said, reaching out her hand to squeeze mine. “If he is a good person, he will hear you out. You won’t know unless you talk to him.” I nodded in agreement. My mom left an hour later, and I was left to my thoughts.

I was a coward. I wanted to call Robert, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I sat around for two months before the opportunity arose.

*********************

It was a Halloween party that brought us back together. I was dressed as The Wicked Witch of the West, a character whose personality is much maligned and whom I felt got the short end of the stick. I didn’t go too overboard with costuming, having found a quite accurate outfit on a Victorian clothing site, and the make up at a store.

I was sitting in a dark corner yet again, giving my feet a break. It seems that being a witch that many people feared when they were children is more popular than a vampire who refuses to enter the twenty-first century. I saw Robert from across the room, dressed as Ichabod Crane from the Sleepy Hollow TV series. He had had a friend style his hair to look like Ichabod’s now-short but wavy hair, which suited his beard well. Robert had put more thought into his costume than I had, because he went as far as to secure an eighteenth century-looking coat and the folded cuff black leather boots. I knew he had seen me when he smiled brightly and quickly approached me.

“Hello there. Are you feeling ill, because your face is quite green.” I tried to keep a straight face, but I snorted out a laugh, which made me only laugh harder.

“Ichabod Crane, I would have never imagined it. I feel as if you dressed as him in the hope that I would be at this party, so you could impress me.”

“Perhaps I did, green-faced madam, and perhaps I did it for myself.” I arched an eyebrow. “How have you been?”

I sighed heavily. “Miserable, to be honest. I have felt like some idiot twelve-year-old girl dumped a bucket of water on me for the last five months, and I am hoping this feeling goes away soon.”

“You could have called me, Sloane. I wanted to hear from you, especially after you texted me that you had told your mom.” Robert took a seat next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“Texting and phone calls go both ways, Robert. If you wanted to hear from me so bad, you could have got in touch with me as well.”

“Touché. Okay, so we both screwed up.” He looks around, and then turns back to me. “Let’s get out of here.” I nod, taking his hand.

Since I had walked to the party, he drove us out to the beach. Luckily, we were the only ones there, because we would have looked strange to anyone there that night, a man in eighteenth century fashion and The Wicked Witch of the West.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, groaning as he bent to sit on the sand. He offered me his hand to help me sit, since I was in a full-length black dress with a tall pointed hat with a veil obscuring my vision because of the ocean breeze.

“I missed you more than words can express.” I grunted as I sat down. “These last five months have been agony, and I was too chicken to call you out of fear you’d hang up on me.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “I am grateful you didn’t move on.”

He chuckled. “How could I move on? Where else am I going to find another asexual woman, who loves literature and history as much as I do? You’re a diamond in the rough, Sloane. Why are you so solemn?”

“I’m afraid I am dreaming.”

“Sloane, lift your head.” I did as he asked, casting my eyes down. He grabbed my face in both of his hands, and kissed me deeply. I felt more alive than I had in months, and yet I still was convinced this was all a dream.

“How was that?”

“Like a dream, still.” He huffed, and then lunged at me. He threw my hat off my head, and kissed me with such intensity, it knocked me backwards onto the sand. He had never kissed me like this, so it was in this moment I realized I wasn’t dreaming.

“Nope, not dreaming.” He smiled triumphantly, and rolled off me.

For a while, we just gazed up at the stars, listening to the ocean crash against the shore and rocks. After some time, I realized I was in a dress with no coat, and began to shudder. Rob shrugged off his heavy wool coat, and walked me back to the car. When he got in beside me, I told him I loved him, to which he smiled, and said, “same here.”

--The End--