Page 108 of The Leaves In Autumn
I have to smile at that one. He is his father’s son.
“Let’s get out of here. We have a long ride,” he says to Sam.
We all stand and I bring Teddy in for a hug.
“You are a great kid. I mean man. I hope you know how much I appreciate your concern. Even though I don’t want to talk about it.”
“He knows it,” Sam adds, walking to the door.
I get a kiss on the cheek.
“I tried. That’s all I can do. Bye.”
As they walk down the porch steps, I feel another pang of loss. They will be missed.
“Bye, boys. Safe travels.”
As soon as I close the door my cell sounds. I cross to the bar where it lays. Aargon.
“Hello.”
“Hi. Are you buried under your packing?”
“No. I’m officially finished with it all. I didn’t want to save anything for the last minute. What are you doing?”
“Trying to decide if I’m going to tell you I’d like to come over.”
“What are the pros and cons?”
“In the negative column, you could laugh and say no. Or I might get bored once I’m there and have to make up an excuse to leave.”
“Uh huh. Uh huh. What about the plus column? Anything there?”
“Oh yeah. We could forget the fact you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“See you in ten?”
“I’m already gone.”
CHAPTER 35
Aargon
I don’t know how to feel. Happy I will have more time with Barbra or devastated there is a short expiration date? Just another few miles, and the rest of my life, to think it out. We didn’t talk about spending the night, but it is implied. Right? Fuck.
Mostly, I want to show support. Send her off without having to think about how I am taking it.
That’s a bunch of crap. Why shouldn’t she think about me. I want her to feel so horrible about my absence, it drives her to consider a different dream. New plans.
I have dreamed. How it would be. How she would look in the glow of a Parisian sunset. We would stroll the Seine eating warm chestnuts from the little white bags. There would be stolen kisses and good conversations. What would it be like to be loved by her? Somehow, I know.
What a fantasy. Come on, Aargon. You are smarter than that. From the beginning, this dream has been in the works. I remember her talking about it that first summer. We were laying on the diving platform at the lake. She laid it all out for me, as I eyed the raft of bikinied girls floating nearby.
Later, when I asked about some detail, she had already told me about in depth, she punched me in the arm and called me a dipshit. She had misinterpreted my silence for rapt attention. I told on myself, and we thought it was the funniest thing.
Friends do that and forgive like that too. It isn’t even forgiveness. You just allow for the differences in each other. That’s another thing. I am going to miss the friendship too. Deeply. The solid foundation of reallylikinga person. Whatever playfulness I have, was fine-tuned by her. She saw it clearer than anyone else ever has. I felt comfortable showing my silly side and she made me feel like I was good at it. She always laughs at my foolishness. That laugh.
Liking Barbra is not a small gift in my life. But loving her is so much more. It cannot be removed from the equation. Now that I have admitted it to myself, it is there for a lifetime. Will it ever seem different?
