“I’m really going to miss you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer me. Of course he doesn’t. He’s far beyond me now. His story has come to its end.
I look into his face and remember the low sound of his laugh, and the crinkle of his eyes when he smiled, and his knee tapping along to the Diamonds’ song “Little Darlin’.”
I hum a bit of the tune, smiling through my tears, and squeeze his hand one last time. I take a deep, shaky breath and turn to leave. As I do, my gaze lands on his bedside table. There’s an old pair of glasses, a tattered paperback book, and a notebook folded back on itself. Jim’s written two short lines in his wide, slightly wobbly hand.
Emily is a great comfort to me. I highly recommend her services.
I give a watery laugh and look back at him, tears streaming freely down my face. Then I lean down and kiss his soft, papery cheek.
“Bye, Jim.”
38
The next morning, I wake with the sunrise. A loose spring in the Airbnb mattress is digging into my spine, which is probably what woke me, but I don’t really mind. The whole apartment is suffused with a golden glow, and a warm breeze is sifting in through the window.
I dress in a T-shirt and shorts and head out into town. There’s a small stack of flyers left in my bag, but I don’t really have any intention of putting them up today. I just want to walk around for a while, thinking of Jim.
I’m half-expecting a wave of grief to hit me, but instead, I’m filled with the same strange peace I felt yesterday. Jim’s son Herman and I sat out on the porch for a while yesterday, sharing memories of Jim until the coroners arrived. Afterward, I texted Rose and Trey, and the three of us met up for dinner. Rose cried for a little bit—she knew Jim even better than I did—but I could tell she wasn’t really sad forhim. She knew he was ready. He’d been ready since his wife died.
We spent the rest of the night telling stories about him, laughing and tearing up and lifting our glasses to his memory. There isn’t going to be a funeral—Herman said Jim was very firm that he didn’t want one—but in a way, remembering him with Herman and Rose and Trey felt like a truer way to honor him.
I wander toward the waterfront and wind up near the post office, which overlooks the water. I sink into a bench nearby andtake deep breaths of ocean air. I know the weather doesn’t really revolve around me and my life, but I swear the air feels a bit stiller today. Like the whole world is taking a minute to remember Jim.
Part of me wishes I could stay in this quiet, peaceful place forever, but the sun rises and the world wakes up like it always does. The lazy Waldon traffic picks up behind me, greedy seagulls swoop over my head looking for food, and a runner’s dog wiggles out of his leash and leaps off the wharf to chase after a sea duck, sending about fifty of them springing into the air.
I smile and get to my feet, heading to the local bakery. As I approach, the door swings open and Kiara emerges, cappuccino in hand.
She stops dead in her tracks when she sees me, then gives a delighted shout that startles an old man walking by.
“No fucking way!” she says, making the same old man scowl at her. She crosses the sidewalk in two quick bounds and throws her arms around me, spilling cappuccino down my back. I hug her hard, beaming into her hair.
“I’m sorry I didn’t text,” I say, while she drags me to a little table outside the bakery. “I saw your mom a couple days ago, but I made her promise not to tell you. No offense, but—”
“I can’t keep a secret,” she interrupts. “Duh.”
I smile. “I didn’t want John to hear that I’m back secondhand.”
“And are you back for good?”
“Back for good,” I confirm.
She grins and leans back in her chair, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head. “John is going to freak.”
I smile thinly. “In a good way, I hope.”
“Of course! I’ve never seen him as bummed out as he has beensince you left. I mean, it’sJohn, so he’s not, like, sobbing into a pint of ice cream or anything. But he’s got this broody, pensive thing going on, it’s been driving me nuts.”
I make a noncommittal sound. I don’t want to get my hopes up too much. “We’ll see what happens when he gets back.”
Kiara grins. “Either way, I’m glad you’re back. Do you have time to grab a coffee? On me,” she adds, seeing me hesitate.
I open my mouth to argue, then close it again and smile. “That would be really great.”
We drink coffee and catch up until she has to head to work. As I take our empty cups back inside, the cashier waves me down.
“It’s Emily, right?” she says brightly. “I told my great-aunt about you yesterday. I gave her your number, but she was wondering if you could give her a call sometime? She doesn’t know how to use her phone that well, so she hoped you wouldn’t mind calling her...”
