She was quiet for a moment and I could imagine her face staring off into the distance as she processed this new information.
“Yeah. I’m not going to call you that anymore,” she said. “You definitely do not have gangster vibes.”
“Yo! You offend me, girl.”
“Please don’t. You’re embarrassing yourself. And me.”
“Fine,” I said, stifling a laugh. “So. What’s the happs?”
“For real, Graham. We have talked about this. You’re not allowed to try talking cool.”
“Okay, okay. I apologize for lacking the rizz.”
I could practically hear the face palm.
“I’ll give you a pass this once since I know you’re sad and I read your article about that crazy lady shouting at Brontë in the park,” she said. “Is B okay? Has she recovered?”
“I’m fine. B is fine. Everyone is good. I actually think Brontë couldn’t even hear the tirade. Lucky girl.”
“I’d have kicked that chick’s ass. Who even does that in public? I mean, I?—”
Again an image of the woman’s molten eyes filled my mind….
“Marley Bird,” I said, using one of the roughly fifty-two nicknames I’d given her over the years to stop her own tirade. “Is everything okay over there? It worries me when you call instead of sending two hundred texts in rapid succession.”
“Oh! Yeah! Sorry. I just wanted to call and tell you…” She paused for effect. “I got my dorm assignment and roommate’s name!”
We chatted excitedly about her plans for the move from Colorado to Seattle in the next few months. She’d been accepted into her top three choices months ago and had gone for visits with the folks to see each campus. For several weeks afterwards we’d discussed the merits of each of the college’s locations over facetime while eating our favorite snack: popcorn with chocolate chips sprinkled in.
“I mean, New York for obvious reasons,” she’d said. But there was also California, “Sun!!! Beaches!!! Palm trees!!!” and Seattle, “Mountains!!! Lakes!!! Coffee!!!”
“What are the folks hoping for?” I’d asked.
“Well, obviously they’re rooting for the West Coast,” she’d said. “Since it’s closest to home.”
Home was Colorado where she lived with our dad and her mother, my stepmom.
“Obviously,” I said.
“But of course New York would be good cuz I’d get to see you more.”
“I mean… maybe once every couple of months…. I am very busy being a cool and famous author.”
“Lies. I know all you do is lay around in that museum you live in and throw snacks to B cuz you can’t be bothered to get up.”
“Basically.”
“Anyways…”
In the end, she’d chosen Seattle for its renowned medical research center. She wanted to be a general practitioner for children and women and open her own practice one day.
“Something cute and cozy,” she’d told me. “Where people feel immediately comfortable as soon as they walk in.”
I had no doubts she’d make it happen. Marley was a go-getter.
She went on another excited ramble then, telling me about all the things she and her mom were planning to buy for her dorm, and the activities she was planning on getting involved in. I grinned listening to her, remembering my own excitement when I’d left home for college, the world seeming to suddenly open up before me, my dreams that much closer.
After we got off the phone, following Marley making me promise for the hundredth time that I’d be there for her high school graduation – she didn’t know I was going to surprise her on her birthday next week – we said goodbye and I got back to work.
