Page 26 of Someday Not Soon

“That’s not how I see you.”

“Well, you’re different.” She elbows me. “For some odd reason, you seem to enjoy my company. That’s a rarity, you know.” I can see the doubt and vulnerability dripping off of her. She’s attempting to play it off as a joke, but it kills me to know she truly believes that people don’t enjoy being around her.

I put a finger beneath her chin, tipping her face to look at me. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. The way I see it is you’re a gorgeous, highly intelligentwoman that’s been dealt a bad hand of cards in the parental department. But somehow you’ve still managed to stay on your feet. You’re resilient. You’ve found a job you love, you’re paying your own way through college?—”

“Communitycollege,” she points out.

“It’s still college.” I continue, “You’re doing a hell of a lot better than most twenty-one year olds. You’re not out there drinking and partying. You made a good decision for your mental health and boundaries to not live under the oppressiveness of your parents’ roof anymore. You’ve made good choices in life that are putting you on the right path for the future.”

Her smile falters, her eyes growing watery as she processes what I’ve told her. She may not believe it herself, but luckily I believe in her enough for the both of us.

“Thank you. For thinking I can do this,” she whispers. Then, with a smirk, she tries to lighten the mood. “You know, you’re pretty good at this. Someday you should lead one of those TED Talks you love so much. I think I foresee that in your twenty-year plan.”

“Oh trust me, it’s definitely a part of my twenty-year plan. I’ve already started drafting ideas for it.”

“You haven’t,” she deadpans.

“Don’t look so horrified.”

“I’m not horrified, I’m just trying to figure out how one person can be packed with so many good qualities. You’re unreal, in the best way possible.”

We sit together, staring out to where the sky meets thesea. After a moment, I break the silence. “Hey, I got you something.”

She looks at me like I’ve gone mad, as if I’ve handed her the keys to a brand-new car. “You know you don’t need to buy me things. I always feel guilty when people buy me stuff.”

“I know, but I couldn’t help it. I saw it in a storefront window downtown and immediately thought of you, and of our summer here.”

I fish the delicate chain out of my pocket. “Here, turn around.”

She narrows her eyes at me, suspicion tinged with curiosity, but she turns and pulls her hair to the side anyways. I reach around, fumbling slightly with the delicate clasp before settling the necklace around her neck. Once I’m done, she glances down at the tiny golden wave dangling from the chain—a minimalist squiggle, simple yet elegant. “Jude, it’s gorgeous.”

I gently brush my thumb over the small pendant resting against her skin. “I never want to forget this summer with you.”

She smiles up at me, the sunlight catching the golden hues of her eyes. “We won’t.”

Chapter Fifteen

Ella

Present

With the Bach-bash over,reality settles back in. The getaway to the ocean felt like an alternate reality. There was no fretting about returning home to my mind-numbing job and lonely apartment, no sorting through my dead parents’ life.

The ocean had put a spell on me, temporarily causing me to forget all of my life’s problems. My loneliness was replaced with friendship and inclusion. My grief was reduced by the rolling waves. A piece that felt missing was filled with those nights on the deck with Jude. Even if it did go sideways, at least it made me feelsomething.

Now, here I am, standing knee-deep in my parents’ garden, which has been overtaken by weeds ever since their death. The vegetable beds are choked with wildgrasses, and the paths barely visible under a tangled mess of untamed growth.

It mirrors my anxiety and grief at this moment—overgrown and uncontrollable.

I pluck the weeds from the moist soil, letting the pain in my back from bending over distract me from the emotional pain swirling in my stomach. The entire process is therapeutic in a sense—removing the problem by the root so that the rest of the plants can flourish.

Tying up these loose threads of their life by myself is overwhelming. But I’m here and I’m trying. Taking it one day at a time. Pulling one weed at a time. Checking off each task one at a time.

The real estate photographer is scheduled to come by later this week to take photos, so the house can finally be listed. Until then, I’ll be drowning in cleaning, scrubbing away at surfaces as if I can erase the chaos of my life along with the dust.

As I’m elbow-deep in dirt and grime, my phone chimes from my back pocket. I peel off my thick leather gardening gloves, and glance at the screen to see who’s texted me.

Madi

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