The Wish(11)

“When is life ever fair?”

“Can I ask how you’re doing? I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m overstepping…”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I guess I’ve been in a bit of a daze since I found out.”

“It has to feel unbearable.”

“At times it does. But then, other times, it doesn’t. The strange thing is that physically, I feel better than I did earlier in the year, during the chemo. Back then, there were times when I was sure dying would be easier. But now…”

She let her gaze wander over the shelves, noting the trinkets she’d collected, each one imbued with memories of a trip she’d taken. To Greece and Egypt, Rwanda and Nova Scotia, Patagonia and Easter Island, Vietnam and the Ivory Coast. So many places, so many adventures.

“It’s a strange thing to know the end is so imminent,” she admitted. “It gives rise to a lot of questions. Makes a person wonder what it’s all about. Sometimes I feel that I’ve led a charmed life, but then, in the next instant, I find myself obsessing over the things I missed out on.”

“Like what?”

“Marriage, for starters,” she said. “You know I’ve never been married, right?” When he nodded, she went on. “Growing up, I couldn’t imagine that I’d still be single at my age. It just wasn’t the way I was raised. My parents were very traditional and I assumed I’d end up like them.” She felt her thoughts drifting to the past, memories bubbling to the surface. “Of course, I didn’t make it easy for them. Not like you, anyway.”

“I wasn’t always a perfect child,” he protested. “I got in trouble.”

“For what? Anything serious? Was it because you didn’t clean your room or because you were a minute late for your curfew? Oh, wait. You were never late for your curfew, right?”

He opened his mouth, but when no words came out, she knew she was right. He must have been the kind of teenager who made things harder for the rest of his generation, simply because he was wired to be easy.

“The point is, I’ve been wondering how things would have turned out had I chosen a different path. Not just marriage, though. What if I’d worked harder in school, or graduated from college, or had a job in an office, or moved to Miami or Los Angeles instead of New York? Things like that.”

“You obviously didn’t need college. Your career as a photographer has been remarkable, and your videos and posts about your illness have inspired a lot of people.”

“That’s very kind, but they don’t really know me. And in the end, isn’t that the most important thing in life? To be truly known and loved by someone you’ve chosen?”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t negate what you’ve given people through your experience. It’s a powerful act, even life-changing for some.”

Perhaps it was his sincerity or his old-fashioned mannerisms, but she was struck again by how much he reminded her of someone she’d once known long ago. She hadn’t thought about Bryce in years, not consciously anyway. For most of her adult life, she’d tried to keep her memories of him at a safe distance.

But there was no reason to do that any longer.

“Would you mind if I asked you a personal question?” she said, mirroring his curiously formal style of speech.

“Not at all.”

“When did you first know that you were in love with Abigail?”

As soon as she said Abigail’s name, a tenderness came over him. “Last year,” he said, leaning back into the cushions of the love seat. “Not long after I graduated. We’d gone out four or five times, and she wanted me to meet her parents. Anyway, we were driving to Waterloo, just the two of us. We’d stopped for something to eat, and on the way out, she decided she wanted an ice cream cone. It was scorching outside and unfortunately, the air-conditioning in the car wasn’t working that well, so of course it started to melt all over her. A lot of people might have been upset by that, but she just started giggling like it was the funniest thing ever as she tried to eat it faster than it could melt. There was ice cream everywhere—on her nose and fingers, in her lap, even in her hair—and I remember thinking that I wanted to be around someone like that forever. Someone who could laugh at the inconveniences of life and find joy in any occasion. That’s when I knew she was the one.”

“Did you tell her then?”

“Oh, no. I wasn’t brave enough. It took me until last fall before I could finally work up the courage to tell her.”

“Did she say that she loved you, too?”

“She did. That was a relief.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person.”

“She is. I’m very lucky.”

Though he smiled, she knew he was still troubled.

“I wish there was something I could do for you,” he said, his voice soft.

“Working here is enough. Well, that and staying late.”

“I’m glad to be here. I wonder, though…”

“Go ahead,” she said, gesturing with the smoothie. “You can ask whatever question you’d like. I’ve got nothing to hide anymore.”

“Why didn’t you ever get married? If you thought you would, I mean?”