Page 39 of For Lila, Forever

“They moved to the mainland then?” I ask.

“I haven’t the slightest. I sent them on their way last fall and haven’t heard from them since. For all I know they’re living their golden years in sunny Florida, or perhaps they made their way to Arizona. I believe Junie has a sister there. Either way, they’re having themselves a time, I’m sure of it.”

His nonchalance is nothing short of concerning.

Ed and Junie were like family. They’d been around for decades. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t stay in touch—or that my know-it-all grandfather wouldn’t have so much as a clue as to where they went. That coupled with the fact that Lila didn’t so much as leave a goodbye letter tells me that he’s not giving me all the facts.

I follow him to the kitchen where a middle-aged woman with gray-brown hair stands at the sink, washing dishes by hand. She’s shorter and thinner than Junie, her hair straight and cut blunt at her shoulders. There’s a permanent scowl etched on her face. She doesn’t light the room like Junie did.

“Bernice, this is my eldest grandson, Thayer,” Grandfather says.

The woman glances over her shoulder, offering a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it half-smile and a nod, her yellow-gloved hands still deep in the dirty dishwater.

“Very nice to meet you,” she says, her back toward us. “I’ve heard so much about you. Your grandfather tells me you’re pre-law at Yale?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

“Just finished his second year.” Grandfather beams from ear to ear. It thrills him to no end that I’ve chosen to follow in his collegiate footsteps. “Anyway, he’s made quite the jaunt today and my boy is starving. Would you mind preparing him a sandwich?”

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry,” I say.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He puffs his chest and follows with a pompous chuff. “You just drove several hours and then you ferried in.”

He’s right.

I drove four straight hours from New Haven, not stopping once, because all I could think about was getting here—to Lila. And then I waited two hours for a ferry that took three hours to get me here because of all the other island stops we made.

Mile after mile, the thought of seeing Lila kept me going. The sheer excitement and anticipation of being together again was all the distraction I needed.

I daydreamed about sneaking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist.

I pictured her sweet smile and her sparkling amber-green eyes.

I felt her hands on my face and her hair between my fingers as I stole her away and claimed her pink lips with a kiss behind the boathouse.

“How can I find them?” I ask my grandfather.

His thick brows knit. “Who, Thayer? I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

He’s playing dumb. I know better than to buy into his act.

“The Hilliards,” I say, without naming Lila specifically.

“And what reason on God’s green earth would you have to contact them?” my grandfather asks. “They’re retired. I’m sure we’re the last people they want to hear from.”

“They were a big part of my childhood. I considered them family,” I say. “It’d just be nice to be able to keep in touch is all. Would’ve been nice to know the last time I saw them was going to be … the last time.”

Granddad hooks a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“You’re too sentimental, boy. Just like your mother. Speaking of which, she’ll be here in two days. The rest of the crew should be here by the weekend. Say, I was going to get the ol’ ketch out and go for a sail this afternoon. You’ll join me.” In true Howard Bertram fashion, he isn’t asking.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to pass. Not in a sailing mood today.”

His cheery disposition fades and he studies me for a moment. “This isn’t about the Hilliards, is it? If you’d like to write them a letter, I’d be happy to have my attorney work on locating them and sending it on.”

I consider his offer. “And how long do you think that would take?”

He squints. “Is this an urgent matter? I was under the assumption you were simply wanting to keep in touch.”

Yes, it’s urgent.

The woman I love—the only woman I’ve ever loved and will ever love—is out there somewhere and I haven’t the slightest idea as to where she is, how to contact her …

… or why she would’ve left without saying goodbye.

Lila had my address at school—before I left, I gave it to her for emergency purposes as well as my number and email address. She could’ve written me a letter. The Hilliards didn’t own a personal computer of any kind, but there was a lab at the public library in Rose Crossing—she could’ve easily looked me up and emailed me.

I believe that the Hilliards retired, but I don’t believe that Lila would have left here without so much as leaving a letter in the cottage.

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