Page 81 of Take Care, Taylor
“Will you write back?”
“Always.”
BULLY YEARS: JUNIOR YEAR
AUDREY
Jeremiah Wolff is currently in heaven looking over his two sons, newborn daughter, and second wife, Lily Norman.
Iflipped over the program and held back a sigh.
It was just like Taylor to send me something last minute for critique, but I hadn’t expectedthis.
I also didn’t have a single note.
Taking several deep breaths, I stepped out of the car and walked up the pathway to his apartment.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The only answer was the wind.
I knocked louder, but the response was the same.
Twisting the doorknob, I pushed it open, and the door creaked as it gave way. The lights were all off, but somewhere in the silence, the soft clacking of a keyboard echoed off the walls.
I followed the sound up the stairs and into the first room on the left.
Dressed in his high school letterman jacket, Taylor sat on the window’s edge, a laptop balanced against his knees.
“Hey there…” I said softly. “I got your email this morning.”
“You could’ve responded.” His voice was rough. “That would’ve been quicker than coming here.”
“I thought you could use a friend.”
“Then you really shouldn’t have come.” His eyes met mine—red-rimmed, swollen. “Any corrections or suggestions?”
“No… It was very sweet. And well done.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sit through his funeral.”
“That’s understandable… no one will judge you.”
“I’m going to the wake, though,” he said quietly. “But I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”
I nodded, unsure of what to say.
He closed the laptop and tossed it onto the bed, then stood up.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Audrey, because I’ll deny it for the rest of my life, but…” He looked me up and down. “You look really fucking beautiful today.”
“Thank you.”
We stood staring at each other in the silence, the moment too heavy for words to pierce through it.
“Are you hungry?” I asked finally. “Want me to treat you to lunch?”
“I haven’t had an appetite in four days,” he said. “Thanks, though.”
