Until Harry(77)

I took my phone out of my pocket, and I didn’t know why, but I dialled her number and placed it to my ear. It didn‘t ring out; instead it went straight to her voicemail.

“This is Lavender, and there is a great chance that I saw your call but let it go to voicemail because I hate talking over the phone. What you should do now is text me. None of that leave your name and number bullshit – just shoot me a text and I’ll hit you up. Latersss!”

I laughed as a beep sounded, indicating my message was recording.

“I swear your voicemail is still the stupidest thing I have ever heard, but I love it, and I love you, Lav.” I swallowed. “Do you know where I just was? In the morgue, looking at you on a bed in a cold room. I’m really hoping you’re going to text me and tell me that you just pulled off the most epic and evilest prank of all time. I really hope you do that because I don’t want you to be gone. You can’t be gone, do you hear me? We have too much to do. We have to finish college and go to Ibiza, do you remember? We said we were going to go there and have fun after we were done with school. So you can’t be gone, we made plans and you can’t break plans like those. You just can’t . . . Please text me, Lav. I won’t even be angry at such a horrible prank. I swear on my life I won’t shout at you. I promise.”

I neared my uncle’s house and frowned as I squeezed my phone.

“Text me later, I love you.”

I hung up just as I arrived at my uncle’s house, and used a key he gave me years ago to let myself in. I stood in the hallway of his house, and even though something horrible had just happened, I felt safe.

“Uncle Harry?” I called out.

“In the kitchen, darling,” came his reply.

I walked into the kitchen and found him at the kitchen table, a cup of fresh tea in front of him, and one on a coaster for me. “Your brother called ahead,” my uncle said, answering my unspoken question.

I nodded and sat at the kitchen table, and took a sip of my tea.

“I’m so sorry about Lavender, Lane.”

I didn’t reply to him for a long time, but when I did, I felt like dying myself. “I’ve never had someone close to me die,” I whispered to my uncle. “I know Aunt Teresa died, and I’m sad she is gone, but I was only twelve when that happened. I didn’t understand then, but I understand now. Lavender is really gone, Uncle Harry, and she isn’t coming back.”

I broke down when my uncle’s arms came around me. I cried the tears that hadn’t come in the hospital when I saw Lavender or her family, or when Kale told me Drew was pregnant with his baby.

“Kale,” I sniffled. “He is going to be a dad. He and Drew are having a baby.”

I heard my uncle mumble, “Fuck.”

It mirrored exactly what I was thinking.

“What are you thinking?” my uncle asked me.

“I want to leave here,” I whispered.

My uncle frowned down at me. “Darling, I don’t think leaving is the best thing for you—”

“My best friend just died, and Kale and Drew are having a baby,” I said, cutting him off. “I can’t be here to watch him have a family with someone else. I don’t have Lavender to help me get though that. I need to get away from here, from him. I think it will help me finally get over him.”

“Lane—”

“I can’t be here anymore, Uncle Harry,” I cried. “I can’t do it anymore.”

I felt my uncle’s gaze on me. “Do you really want to move away?” he asked.

I nodded. “It hurts too much being here; it’s killing me.”

“Then do what you feel is right for you, sweetheart,” he said after a lengthy silence.

I wasn’t surprised by his support; I knew he’d give it to me.

I sniffled. “I’m scared.”

“It’s something new and unknown; of course it’s scary, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be impossible. People move all the time. You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last.”

I wiped my face with the back of my hands.

“Everyone will think I’m crazy.”

My uncle sighed. “They’ll be hurt and will probably say things they don’t mean out of worry for you, but they won’t hate you. You’re precious to all of us, Lane.”

I hoped he was right.

“I don’t know where to start or how to start the process of moving.”

My uncle asked, “Where are you thinking of going?”

Far, far away.

“I’ve been to New York with Mum and Nanny. I thought it was great there.”

My uncle just stared at me. “America, Lane? Really?”

“I need distance,” I whispered. “I need it.”

He nodded his head and hugged me once more.

We got down to it then. With the help of my uncle, I found somewhere in New York to rent that, from the pictures, looked to be a complete dive for a price I could afford. I could finish my online classes from anywhere in the world, so that was in my corner.

I tried to refuse money from my uncle, but he gave me enough for my first six months’ rent, and he also bought me a one-way ticket to New York. He made me promise to start accepting editorial work because even though I wasn’t qualified to call myself an editor yet, he said I was good enough to edit anything that was given to me. He said he’d always known I’d work somewhere in the literary field because of my love for books and that I’d be damn good at my job. He even promised to set up a website for me because he said freelance editors needed to have something professional to engage clients. Once I agreed, he applied for an ESTA visa for me; it meant I could stay in the States for ninety days before I had to leave. As soon as I got over there, though, I would apply right away for a work visa to extend my stay.