“Break up with him so I can eventually get him back… I think I get it,” I said. “Like loons?”
“What?”
“You know how loons migrate south, but they come back to the same lakes every summer to reconnect with their mates? They’re monogamous, but they spend the winters apart.”
“Sure, yes,” said Nina. “Like loons.”
I was so attached to Seth that, to my teenaged brain, this actually started to feel like a sensible solution—not to mention a necessary way to protect myself. I could see adulthood looming on the horizon, but I wanted to linger in childhood for a while longer. Plus, I had heard an adage that went something like “If you love someone, set them free,” which sounded romantic to me. So I took Nina’s advice.
On the day Seth was to leave Catwood Pond, I broke the news. His mom was on her way to pick him up, and we only had a short window before she would arrive.
“I don’t want you to feel tied down,” I said as we sat on the bed in Seth’s cabin.
“But Ilikebeing tied down,” Seth protested, a band of sunlight cutting through the dusty air between us.
“But that could change once you’re back in your normal routine,” I said. “I want you to have your freedom.”
I didn’t say the other thing I wanted:for you to use that freedom to pine for me until next summer, when we can pick up where we left off.I yearned for a day when we could be together again, when I was a little bit older and more ready for this kind of emotional intensity. In the meantime, I wanted to hit pause.
“I don’t get it,” said Seth, looking distraught. “Don’t you love me?”
“Of course I do,” I said, realizing I had underestimated how much this would hurt him. I was so caught up in my long-term plan—our joyful reunion next summer!—that I had miscalculated the near-term pain it would cause.
“Why are you acting so blasé about this?” Seth said, searching my face for a clue. “If you love me, then why would we break up?”
Because Nina said so, I thought. The logic of my plan was starting to feel shaky, but there was no going back now. I had already inflicted the wound. In an effort to sound confident and mature, I said: “Because it’s just what I need right now.”
“Okay,” said Seth, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t get it. But okay.”
In that instant, I became aware of my own power—and not in a good way. Guilt-ridden, I felt tears start to come. “This doesn’t necessarily have to be the end,” I said lamely. “I just need some time.”
“Okay,” Seth said again, looking destroyed. It broke my heart to see that his usual ease and chattiness had turned brittle. He seemed scared of me as he said softly: “Whatever you need.”
I left his cabin feeling hollow and unsteady. Everything in my body wanted to undo what I had just done, but I stayed the course, hoping that Nina’s full-circle theory would eventually bring us back together. After all, I was supposed to be the heroine of this love story. So why did I feel like the villain?
Chapter 19
“What could possibly be in here?” my father asks, examining the latest package from Actualize as we drive home from the post office.
“I’m sure it’s stranger than we can even guess,” I say, letting my left hand fly out the car window. We have passed Labor Day, and the air is warm and hazy as summer drags its feet. Cooler days are coming, but for now, we are suspended between seasons.
My father contemplates the box again. “It must be an armadillo.”
When we get home, we sift through the contents of the package. There are the usual powders and potions. There is a deck of Actualize-branded tarot cards. There is an oblong canister containing piñon-scented incense from Arizona. Eventually, my hand lands on a round, textured object: an armadillo. Or to be more specific, an armadillo-shaped incense holder.
I look from the armadillo to my father. A coincidence, or a premonition? There’s still no way to be sure.
Over lunch, we explore the deck of tarot cards. Despite the recent upswing in tarot’s popularity, I don’t know much about it. I have friends who used to pull out their decks as a party trick, but I never thought to take their readings seriously. As I glance at the guide, my father makes his way through the deck, and when I look over, he has chosen three cards.
“Already pulling cards I see! What do you think those mean?” I ask.
He examines them. “Well, this one is you,” he says, pushing the Fool toward me.
“Of course,” I say.
“And this one must be me,” he says, selecting the Hermit for himself.
I scan the guide and read aloud: “The Fool represents new beginnings, adventure, possibility.” A much better outlook than I had feared. “And the Hermit represents wisdom, introspection, spiritual enlightenment. That does sound like you, Dad!”
