Page 73 of The Sky in Summer
“You sound like Aurora Lyon. That’s a compliment.”
“I take it as one. It’s that whole nurturing thing women are so good at.”
She nestles in my arms.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say. “Is that allowed?”
“Yes.”
But it isn’t reciprocated. No,I’m going to miss you too. I try another tactic.
“We had so much fun together, Layla. You are the best time I have ever had.”
Nothing. And then.
“That’s what friends are for,” she says, quieting me with a kiss.
When I wake up tomorrow, I will remember this moment. What she said and didn’t say. It should help me get through the flight and the first days in Paris. It was never more than friendship no matter how many hypotheticals I run through my mind. Despite the slim hope I was harboring.
She didn’t want to bring me to the airport. I was good with that. Prolonging the leaving would have been stupid. We said what we had to at her place this morning. It was short and sweet, as expected of good friends. I sensed she wanted me gone and I accommodated her.
When we hugged a final goodbye, I saw the bedsheets behind her, still warm with imprints of our bodies. That image will stay with me.
I had sent the new address and phone number to her email a week ago. Who knows if she updated the contact. Or even if it is a good idea to keep communicating half a world away. For me, it wouldn’t work. It would feel like I was poisoning myself slowly.
There will be ways to keep up with her life if I want to. Or the obvious things anyway. Teddy and Sam will tell me whatever they know, and hopefully the family will include them and her in a few celebrations throughout the school year. I can get them to take pictures. But as soon as she starts dating and a guy shows up, I’m out. Why would I want to see that?
The greatest loss will be the small details and moments of our lives that became meaningful. The things that suddenly matter, like what movies we want the other to see and how our days went. What idiot said or did something to piss us off. And the funny things. All the small moments that add up to a life. We talked. I loved it. On the couch, at the dinner table, even in bed watching TV. The moments that revealed our real selves. I love hers. Because of Layla, I learned connecting in conversation is every bit the marker of a great relationship as sex is. Who will we talk about these things with now?
I think of other days, when living my life looked so different. It was self-centered. There is a sense I was still a boy at the start of summer. An overgrown adolescent who never looked at tomorrow. Now, tomorrow is all the man that surfaced can think about.
At one thirty I Uber to Aargon’s. Walking up the path to his door feels like dead man walking. The luggage was stashed there earlier in the week, after closing the apartment and turning in the key. They are heavy with the only possessions I am carrying into the new life. Everything else will be new. The apartment is set for me, with all I require. The dishes and linens, pots and pans. Silverware and appliances. A clean slate. I will be able to turn the key and walk into my new life.
Teddy opens the door before I get there.
“Hi,” I say, walking through.
Instead of a greeting, I get a lifted corner of his mouth.
“What’s that look for?”
“I think you’re gonna be sorry you went.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Teddy. Tell me what you really think.”
“What did he say?” Aargon says, entering the room.
It’s my nephew who answers. I think he wanted to say it twice in case I am dismissing the idea.
“I gave him my opinion. Think he’s making a mistake going to Paris.”
I expect my brother to tell his kid to keep his opinions to himself.
“It’s the general consensus. You’re not going to find anyone of us who thinks differently.”
I want to say shut the fuck up but remain silent instead. I have no rebuttal.
The sound of a car at the curb pulls my attention.
