Halfway to You(74)
“You can do better,” he said, pulling me into one last hug. “Come on, I’m starving.”
MAGGIE
San Juan Island, Washington State, USA Thursday, January 11, 2024
“Oh, Keith.”
Ann grasps Maggie’s hand, eyes crinkling. “He was the best, wasn’t he?”
“He really was.”
Best friends. They had been best friends. What happened between you two? Maggie wants to ask. But she can’t. Not yet, at least.
Instead, Maggie says, “Even so many years after his death, I still find myself regularly asking myself, ‘What would Keith say?’”
“Me too.” Ann releases Maggie’s hand, her gaze going distant. “He always had the best advice, didn’t he?”
Maggie nods, and for a moment, they sit with his memory, silent. Two women who never met before this week, invariably linked by a great man whom they both cherished so much.
ANN
Mohonk Mountain House, New Paltz, New York, USA
December 1993
Hearing the whole story had shifted my understanding of Todd’s sorrow, and I didn’t want to ruin our last day.
When Todd and I returned to our room for our final night at Mohonk, I couldn’t bring myself to confront him—even after Keith’s insistence. It was our last night together before I went back to Rome and he returned to Colorado. We wouldn’t see each other again until spring at the earliest, and I didn’t want to fight.
Instead, we made love.
I hid my tears afterward, crying into the pillow while he drifted off. I wondered if I would ever truly know Todd or if he’d always hide a piece of himself from me.
I wondered if he’d ever love me as much as he loved Penny.
I fell asleep wondering, and the next morning, we packed in silence. Then it was a flurry of goodbyes in the lobby, hugs all around. I had grown to admire Una and Hugh; Natalie and Jackson and their kids; Bob, with his silent newspaper reading; and even Tracey’s fierce family loyalty.
Maggie, I don’t know what exactly you know about Penny, but Keith later explained that Tracey had been very close with her younger sister. She was deeply affected by the loss—more than anyone else in the family. While they had all tried to move on, she had held on. I could see why she disliked me, the replacement. She had disliked the idea of me before she even met me, but that afternoon, I decided not to take her attitude personally.
Natalie was the last to give me a big, tight hug. “You are a delight,” she said into my ear. “Please visit. We’d love to have you. We live not far from Todd.”
“Thank you for welcoming me.”
Her private smile said it all: she considered me a part of the family. It was the greatest Christmas gift I ever received.
As we piled into Keith’s car and drove off, waving at the Whitakers, I had never been so sad to leave the United States. Despite the tensions, I would miss them when I returned to Rome. I was glad to have a family worth missing.
At the airport, Keith and Todd hugged first, a strong, clapping embrace. As they held each other in temporary parking, I saw them in a new way. Here were two men who had grown up together, fallen in love alongside one another, and endured grief together. Here were two men who loved each other. I envied their bond.
When Keith hugged me next, the warmth of him penetrated through our thick coats. His whisper was summer against my cheek. “Take care, my dear Ann.” The comfort of his friendship melted the winter around us.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Of course, it was hardest to say goodbye to Todd—and not just because I’d miss him. I had left Rome ready to discuss moving in together—but now, after learning what he’d kept from me, I wasn’t so sure. My feelings were tangled like fishing line, grimy and cutting, getting tighter the more I tried to struggle free. I had so many thoughts running through my mind that I was rendered silent. He kissed my forehead and told me he loved me, and I breathed in his citrus-musk scent and held him tightly, reciprocating his words with melancholy in my heart.
ANN
Rome, Italy
January 1994
Just after the new year, Keith called. “I read your pages,” he said by way of hello.
To say I was nervous about this call is an understatement. News of the Chasing Shadows movie was abuzz, and I was getting calls for interviews and “insider information” about casting rumors, the screenplay, and other things I had nothing to do with. The attention had compounded the pressure to produce something new.
I reached for my cigarettes and cracked the window by my desk. My eyes tracked the street below, where a woman was walking a small dog. “And?” I asked, when Keith had paused too long.
“Well . . .”
My stomach tumbled. “You hate it.”
“I don’t hate it,” he replied slowly. “But I don’t think it works.”
“So you hate it.”
“It needs . . . editing.”
I could handle editing. “Chasing Shadows was a slog in the beginning.”
“It was, but this would be . . .” He sighed. “I think it would be easier to start something new.”
His words hit me like a shove, like the smack of pavement. “What?”