What Happens Now(89)

“So . . . ?”

Kendall unrolled now and looked me straight in the eye. “A bad situation to cap off several other bad situations. On that note, I think I’d better go.”

Crap, crap, crap she was angry. What had I done?

“I can’t believe we’re saying good-bye like this,” I said.

“You mean like this?” she asked, then pulled me into the tightest hug I’d ever felt in my life. It actually hurt.

“See you at Christmas,” I said.

“Check that blog link I sent you,” she said. “I’ll start posting stuff as soon as I can.”

Kendall climbed off the rock and rolled up her towel.

“Are you walking back with me?” she asked.

“I’m going to stay for a bit.”

She nodded and headed up the trail. She got a few feet away, then stopped to turn and wave. I waved back. We froze, neither of us wanting to be the one to lower our hand first. But then Kendall did. She started moving again and in seconds, she was around a curve and out of sight.

I lay back on the rock, my hands behind my head, and stared up at the sky.

In my mind, Camden came to lie on the rock next to me.

Holy cow, how I missed him. This ache. Like the ache I’d felt during the summer of watching and wanting, but in the core of me.

I started to cry again. The only thing I could make of this agony was the truth: Camden had given me what he could, but it was not enough. What I needed, I could only give myself. He had gifted me the ability to do that. By falling in love with Camden, I’d been able to fall in love with Ari, and for that reason, I wasn’t lying to Kendall about having just one regret.

So which Camden was with me now? The first Camden, or the one who’d let me down so terribly? Maybe it was neither. Maybe it was a parallel-universe Camden, a new Camden created by the things that could have happened but didn’t.

Although, just because they could have happened didn’t mean they should have.

I had to let that Camden next to me go.

I had to let them all go.





23




“Help me!” Danielle squealed from the top of the wooden tower.

I didn’t budge. She was laughing now, as I knew she would be, and my spot on the playground bench was so comfy in the shade.

Labor Day.

It always felt melancholy, even with the weather perfect like this. I usually spent every possible hour of the holiday at the lake before it closed for the season at sundown. But this year, I couldn’t bear to say an official farewell.

“You said half-and-half, right?” asked Mom as she plunked down a to-go tray from the café across the street.

“Thanks,” I said, picking up my iced coffee. She sat down next to me, took hers out of the tray, and tore open a pack of artificial sweetener.

“Mom!”

“What?”

“You said that stuff is evil.”

She shrugged. “I let myself have one a day at work. Sorry, it’s my guilty pleasure.”

“If that’s your guilty pleasure, you have nothing to apologize for.”

She laughed, and Dani raced past us, shrieking again. Then Richard came tearing after her. Roaring like a lion or a monster or some other terror she’d requested today.

“I remember Richard doing that with you, when I first met him,” said Mom.

“Yup. It was love at first chase.”

Mom smiled. “For me, too.”

I watched her as she took a long sip of her iced coffee. “What time are you guys going out later?”

“The movie’s at eight, but I’d like to leave at six so we have time for dinner at Lemongrass. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” She’d never asked that before. She’d never needed to, or so we both thought. Maybe we were both wrong.

I thought of the World Wildlife Fund calendar hanging in the kitchen, now turned to the September page with the tiger cubs, already filled in with the details of our four different schedules. On the square of that coming Friday, there was only one thing scribbled in: that long-planned appointment with my therapist, Cynthia. Under my name, Mom had recently written Richard’s and Dani’s and her own.

Yes, we were all going to go, together. It would be something new and strange and probably cringeworthy. We might never do it again. But we were going at least once, and that counted.

Mom summoned Richard by holding up his coffee, jiggling it so the ice rattled loudly. He scooped up Dani and carried her over to us.

“Here, sweetie,” said Mom to Dani after she handed Richard his drink. “I know you said you’d have a smoothie but I figured, it’s the last day of summer. What the heck. I got you a chocolate milk shake.”

Dani silently took her drink and sipped hard, closing her eyes. She seemed to be having a moment. Then her eyes popped open and she stared at Mom.

“Will you push me on the swings?” she asked, her voice shaky.

My mother sighed. I was prepared to step in with an excuse for her, but then Mom laughed and said, “Sure.”

She got up and took Dani’s hand.

“I want to go so high, my foot touches that tree branch. I just saw a kid do it. Can you push me that high?”

“I don’t know,” said Mom as they walked away from us. “But I’ll try.”