Page 71 of The Now in Forever
“Oh.” This can’t be happening. How could I forget about his trip? We just started getting closer, finally after all these years, and he’s leaving. For how long?
“In Portland.”
“Oh.” It hits me how little time he actually has. Portland is a two-hour drive at least, on a good day. On a Saturday, I’m not even sure. “Shit. You have to go now.”
Ed nods and throws a few more things into his suitcase. “I really do.”
“When will you be back?”
“A couple weeks. I’m not exactly sure.”
He zips up his suitcase and heaves it on the floor. He grabs me by the waist and kisses me, his lips soft but insistent. It’s a kiss that has an end right from the beginning.
It’s a goodbye kiss.
We part, and he says, “I’ll text you as soon as I know more.”
“Okay.” I hate how small my voice sounds, how meek. I should be happy for him. Iamhappy for him. But this feels an awful lot like a goodbye we shared once before, and then I didn’t see him for a decade.
He lugs his suitcase down the stairs and out the door without a look back in my direction.
CHAPTER 18
MONDAY, JULY 8TH
My overnight bag is packed and in the back of the car. Since my interview is in New Haven tomorrow morning at eight, I’m driving to Grandma’s to stay the night so I don’t have to roll into the interview after a two-hour drive. The sun is low in the sky, too low for the visor to be much help.
Ed left Saturday. Anh left Sunday. For two days in a row, I got to say goodbye to people I love.No.People I care about. I mean, I love Anh, but it’s very new with Ed. New and old. I’ve been pining for him for a decade, and here I am, doing it again. I crank up my audiobook and try to lose myself in the story, instead of the pity party I was about to throw.
When I get to Grandma’s, the overwhelming smell of falafel fills my nose as soon as I open the squeaky screen door. Clanks from the kitchen let me know exactly where to go, if the smell hadn’t.
Grandma’s taking a tray of perfectly browned falafel from the oven, her massive oven mitt in the shape of a chicken on her hand. “Hattie Bear! You’re here!”
“Grandma, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“When’s the last time you stayed the night? Of course I’m making your favorite. You still like falafel, right?”
I smile. “Yes, thank you.”
She gestures to a bottle of wine on the counter. “Sit, sit. Have a glass. I’m almost done.”
“I’ll just put my bag upstairs first.”
She nods and grabs a cucumber off the counter.
Each stair squeaks on the way up past framed photos hung on the wall. There’s my eighteen-year-old face smiling ear to ear, in a shiny purple cap and gown. Farther up is my cousin, her blonde hair in flowing curls and her husband smashing a piece of cake on her cheek on their wedding day. At the very top of the stairs is a black and white photo, in front of this very house. My grandpa is holding my grandma in his arms. She’s in a beautiful calf-length white dress, her leg kicked out toward the sky. It’s their wedding day. They’re both smiling like they won the lottery.
Muscle memory takes me to the room I spent so many summers and sometimes spring breaks in. The walls are a light pink, a choice made when I was eight that stuck. The twin bed is covered in a white comforter, with a hot-pink crocheted blanket thrown on top.
I set my bag down by the desk, the cork board hanging above it filled so not one speck of the brown cork shows. Magazine photos of Idris Elba from a brief fascination I had in eighth grade with the movieObsessed,ticket stubs, photo booth pictures of Robin, Anh, and me making funny faces.
I run my hand along one strip, faded from the afternoon sun hitting this wall. In the last picture, I’m in the middle, my cheeks smashed on either side by Anh and Robin planting kisses. We must’ve been seventeen, because Anh had what she liked to call her “fuck-it-all” pixie cut.
Another glossy magazine photo catches my eye, a bookstore in Venice, right next to my dream life list.
Own my own bookstore
Fall madly in love
