Page 103 of An Introvert's Guide to Life and Love
“Hmm. Can’t say I feel the same.”
“Yeah, he’s a special duck.”
We find Gramps sitting in one of the many folding chairs that have been set up in the grass. He’s happily tucking into a plate of caprese salad and chatting with an older man with a handlebar mustache.
“Bet you’ll be happy to see your parents again,” Daniel says as we settle into chairs near Gramps.
“Yeah.” I try to keep my voice light and breezy. “I do love them, silly as they are.” Remembering that Daniel lost his own dad, I add, “And I’m lucky to live close to them. I bet you miss your dad.”
He chews, swallows, and nods. “Every day.”
“What was your favorite thing about him?” I pop some salmon into my mouth—it’s buttery, rich, and perfectly seasoned. I almost feel bad for Daniel that he’s a vegetarian.
He thinks for a moment. “He was a pretty reserved guy, except when it came to sports. He knew everything about our home teams, even trivia about things that had happened before he was born. He taught me how to play catch and how to bat—and when my brothers and I played sports in school, he was there for every single game. Literally, never missed any of our games from elementary schoolthrough high school. And he never got upset with us if we lost or did something dumb. He was always willing to talk strategy, to rehash a certain play over and over.”
He takes a long drink of his soda and then continues, “I think my favorite memory with him was when I was eight. August seventh, 1999, it was just Dad and me at a Rays game, and we saw Wade Boggs make his three thousandth hit. We’d been going to the Rays games since before I could remember, but that day, we felt like we had a real victory, like there was hope for our little team yet.” He pauses, looks up at the puffy white clouds overhead, and then blinks. “The next big moment for the Rays came almost ten years later. Dad and I watched that game from his hospital room.”
I’m about to reach over to squeeze his knee consolingly, but the man with the mustache comes over and says, “Did I hear you talking about Callum and that Rays game? Do you remember the time he got thrown out of a game for yelling at the umpire?”
Daniel groans at the memory. After the man has finished his story, Daniel introduces him as his uncle Terry. Other family members gather around and add their own stories, until I have a pretty good idea where Daniel got some of his personality traits from—namely his mischievous sense of humor and his gentlemanly manners.
The party grows a bit rowdier as the afternoon wears on. The way his family shrieks with laughter and interrupts one another in their eagerness to share stories reminds me of my family, the way they behaved at Gramps’s birthday party. It makes me think Daniel’s clan would get along with mine. But I squash that thought, because it’s pointless.
Daniel gets swept up in a lively conversation with his cousins. Wally is curled under Gramps’s chair, fast asleep. Gramps and I look at each other.
“How would you feel about making dinner together and then watching an old movie tonight?”Our last night, I think but don’t say.
“Watch what you’re calling old. To me, they’re just movies.” Gramps grins.
“We could stop by Foxy’s for dinner stuff on the way home. Maybe I’ll try out Lottie’s recipe for broccoli cheddar soup.”
“Sounds wonderful. And I’m sure Foxy will be delighted to see you.”
“Hey,” I laugh. Then I glance over at Daniel. A pang zips through me.It’s not really goodbye. I’ll be back to visit, I just don’t know when.
Gramps stands and says, “I’ll meet you at the car. I’ll take Wally for a little walk to let him do his business.”
“Okay. Be right there.”
Daniel notices me hovering and excuses himself from the group.
“Heading out?” His voice is low, and I wonder if I’m projecting my own feelings or if I detect sadness in his words. I nod.
“Thanks for—” I break off. It seems silly to keep thanking him for everything. For all that he’s done for Pebble Cottage, both as the property manager and as a friend. For inviting me to his friend’s party and this one. For befriending Gramps. And for…
His hands are in his pockets, and the few inches between us feels palpable. I would like nothing more than to reach out, even just to nudge his arm with mine, but I get the sense that he prefers it this way. Whether to avoid giving his family something to gossip about, or to avoid the temptation of anything more happening between us, I don’t know. As for me, I’m weirdly relieved that we’re saying goodbye here, in front of an audience. I don’t know what would happen if we were alone. It’s going to be hard enough to leave, holding on to the memory of last night, and if anything else were to happen, I don’t know if I’d be able to say goodbye.
“We’ll be in touch,” Daniel says, and my heart lifts annoyingly. “About the house.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’ll reach out when I have a lead on possible tenants,” he continues.
“Okay.”So I guess this is it.“Talk soon, then.”
“Definitely,” he says, and I feel a weighty meaning behind the word, but I know that’s all I’m going to get. Before I can overthink it, I reach up and wrap my arms around him. He squeezes back, and I think I can feel his relief that I didn’t leave without a hug.
“Bye, Rosen.” His breath riffles my hair. I don’t want to let go, but I feel like the longer I hold on, the harder it will be. I pull back, gripping his hands for a fraction of a second. Something in me is fighting against this, against saying goodbye. It feels wrong. But I have to go back home; I have no choice. And dragging it out will only make it hurt more.
