Halfway to You(110)

I let my grief get in the way of us. I know this isn’t news to you, but here I am admitting it—finally. I should’ve let you in. Your love and vulnerability were my most treasured gifts, and I should’ve been the partner to you that you had been to me.

I have many regrets in this life, but my most painful regret is hurting you.

I’m not sure you knew this, but after Bangkok and the article drama, I sold the bookstore. It was a bitter transition, but I didn’t want to drag my parents’ legacy down with the bad press. Then I learned of Maggie, and her existence forced a change in me. There’s no other way to put it. I realized I’d been holding on to the past so hard that I’d let my future escape me. You were right about that, Ann. You were right all along. I’m sorry it took so much strife to force me to face the truth.

Shortly after Tracey cut me off from Maggie, I sold my parents’ house, bought a new place in Loveland, and finished my psychology degree to become a counselor. I feel like a new man, save for one thing: I still care for you.

So here I am, writing you a letter again—a letter that I’m sure is too little too late. But I’m getting too old to keep my feelings to myself. I’m getting too old for timidness. As far as I see it, I don’t have time to hide behind my grief anymore. Life isn’t worth living unless I can love with everything I’ve got—and I want to give all I’ve got to you, Copper.

I’m sorry it took me so goddamn long to realize it.

This is how I feel. How do you feel?

Ever yours,

Todd

I raised my eyes from the letter and stared into the granite sky. The clouds were low and heavy. I heard the sea crashing behind my house, beyond the cliff. My vision sank to my slippers, the ground. My garden was bare, save for some early spring crocuses poking through the hard soil. The wind continued to blow, rocking me.

It amazed me how quickly his letter brought me back to our long, winding journey together. I thought I had let the part of me that loved Todd—the passionate, hurt, irrational part—go dormant. I had spent over a decade not thinking about him. But suddenly the ground was thawing, and parts of me that I thought had died for good were coming back to life. My roots stirred. My leaves greened. I reread his letter and felt my heart bloom like the crocus—brilliant and fresh in a land that had once been so cold and cruel, so inhospitable. It occurred to me that perhaps it wasn’t a matter of pain and heartbreak—it was a matter of timing. Thailand had been our autumn. This silence had been our winter.

Now, it was suddenly spring, and the things that had once stood in our way—differences that were once so huge—didn’t seem so mighty anymore. In fact, they seemed inconsequential.

I rushed inside and wrote him a letter in return.

Todd,

What a strange thirty years it’s been. Filled with so much love and heartbreak you’d think I’d never want to hear from you again. But the funny thing is that I see your sudden letters in my mailbox and I’m always—always—glad.

Thank you for writing to me. Thank you for this apology. I forgive you, of course. And I hope you’ll forgive me, too, for all of it. But especially for being so afraid of you. Because that’s what I was: afraid. I was always so terrified of losing you that I often held you at arm’s length (we’re one and the same in that way), but frankly, that was stupid. You say you’re too old to be timid; I’m too old to be stupid.

More to the point, you asked how I feel, so here it is: How would you like to move to Washington State? I’m living on an island away from the hustle and bustle of everything, and I think you would like it very much.

Love,

Ann

Within the week, I’d received his reply.

Dear Ann,

Send me the address and give me a month.

Todd





MAGGIE


For that voice inside you telling you to believe.

—Dedication, Chasing Shadows, by Ann Fawkes San Juan Island, Washington State, USA Thursday, February 1, 2024

“So he came?”

“He did.”

“And the public never knew.”

“No one needed to know but us.”

“How did you keep him a secret?”

Ann chuckles. “Few people actually knew what he looked like. They knew his name and his business, but not so much his face.”

“What did Keith think?”

“Oh, he mostly stayed out of it. He did visit once, though. It was the last time I saw him. He said he loved me, and he was glad for our friendship, and that he was happy for Todd and me. We kept in touch after that, swapping occasional letters and phone calls.” Her mouth quirks. “It wasn’t the same as before, but when he died . . . things were all right, between us.”

Maggie sighs, wishing Keith were still alive. Wishing a lot of things were different, but also at peace with how they are now. “What was it like, seeing Todd after all that time?”

“Melancholy.”

The sun is zinging through the trees, edging through the windows. Soon, Ann’s whole living room will erupt with light—but for now, only a few beams glimmer in through the glass.

“How so?”

“His age, for one. He’d aged a lot since the last time I saw him—so had I—and seeing him . . . I felt the time that’d passed. The time we wasted. All the deliberation, all the not saying what we really wanted. We wasted a lot of time, Maggie, and seeing the unfamiliar wrinkles on his face and the gray in his hair . . . it made me realize what fools we were.”