chapter thirty-eight
Audrey
Today's vocabulary word: memento
Jude kepthis eyes on the road as we made the two-hour drive to the Phoenix airport and I kept mine on the blur of desert going by. We'd accomplished everything we came here to do—his mother was content, the performance was convincing, and we hadn't collapsed under the weight of our own scar tissue. Better than that, even, we'd healed some of those old wounds.
We were quiet but it wasn't the thorny silence that'd dominated the front side of this trip. This silence settled around us like the gentle slant of morning sunlight, warm and familiar. It gave me the time to take apart the last few days and put them back together in an order I could understand. I already knew some of it would end up in theShit That Doesn't Make Sense and Shouldn't Have Happenedfile but I couldn't help going over it again and again.
I still didn't know how I wanted to handle all that I'd learned about my parents in the past day. My default response of avoidance wasn't going to work this time around. If it had ever worked. But it wasn't like I could call them up and have a calmdiscussion. They'd insist I was wrong or confused or—better yet—misledby Jude. Oh, they'd love to ride that pony all the way into town. Even if I produced an actual copy of the restraining order, they'd find a way to tell me it wasn't real.
All I knew was that they'd taken enough from me.
As for the rest, I knew I wasn't ready to let go yet. Of Jude, of the person I let myself be when I was with him, of this cobbled-together version of us. Of the new and old, and the ways we felt the same but different.
But none of that fit into this arrangement. He was off to Seattle for work and then back to Michigan for his son. I was Boston-bound with Emme's wedding swallowing up the week to come. This was the precise end we'd agreed upon, it was the closure I'd come looking for—and I couldn't stop thinking about waking up with him again. Couldn't stop thinking about all the time we'd lost and the years we'd consigned to being angry and hurt and adrift. And then there was everything I'd given up, everything I'd lost.
It just seemed so fucking unfair.
And where did that leave us? Was it just…over? Was that how it ended this time? Were we supposed to walk away now like the past week hadn't blown a hole through our history? As if we hadn't discovered each other all over again?
As we made our way into the airport and through security, I felt it slipping away. This was it. This was where we'd leave each other—and I knew I'd have only myself to blame if I didn't do something.
We stopped near the departures board. Jude's flight left about forty-five minutes before mine but we had some time before he was due to board.
He motioned toward the restaurants tucked into the terminal. "Hungry?" he asked.
"Not too much," I said. "You?"
He shook his head as he typed on his phone. "I'm good. It's a quick flight up to Seattle."
I made noises about needing something new to read and he followed me around, still busy with his phone, as I gave nearly every book at the newsstand a thorough inspection. I didn't choose any of them because I'd only stared blindly at those books while the inside of my head rang with fifteen different alarm bells, all of them blaringDo something!Don't leave like this!
We wandered into another shop where Jude stopped to look at a display of Arizona-themed keychains. "Percy likes keychains," he said when he noticed me staring. "I grab one for him whenever I'm in a new city. He has at least ten on his backpack and another few on his lunchbox."
"That's cute," I said.
"Wait. Check it out." He held up a bejeweled magnet in the shape of a lizard. "I think you need a souvenir."
I recoiled at the thought. "I don't need any help remembering that monster but thanks so much for thinking of me."
"Nah. This is going home with you."
Jude selected a saguaro cactus keychain for Percy and a bottle of cold brew coffee along with the magnet. I left him to pay and ended up staring at an assortment of lollipops with actual scorpions inside them. Absolutely terrifying.
He returned to my side and pulled my bag from my shoulder, pawing at my cases and pouches like they belonged to him. He settled on the small quilted coin purse where I kept my tea bags. His gaze locked on mine, he tucked the lizard between packets of mint, ginger, and chamomile.
"Promise me you'll put this on your fridge," he said, returning the purse to the depths of my bag. He added a bottle of water and the brand of cinnamon gum I liked. "Don't let me down, Saunders."
At my silence, he pressed a thumb to my forehead, smoothing out the creases that'd gathered there. It was such a small, intimate touch. One I never would've longed for, but now that I'd felt it, I didn't see how I could live without it. I swallowed hard, choking down the grief that'd soaked me down to my shoes.
The boarding call for Jude's flight came through. We both turned in the direction of his gate, watching it like we wanted to make sure it was real. That he'd get on that flight and go to Seattle, and I'd go back to Boston, and this would end. We'd be finished, again.
It felt like the ground was gradually giving way beneath me and I reached for the first solid thing I could find. "My friend Emme's wedding is this weekend," I started, breathless for no good reason, "and it's in this adorable small town on the Rhode Island coast. Friendship. That's the name of the town. My other friend Shay, she owns a tulip farm. I think I told you that already. Anyway, she moved there a few years ago when she inherited it and now she hosts events there. Grace, another one of my friends, she got married there last year. Now it's Emme's turn and—and you should come. If you want. If you can. I mean, I know you have work and everything but if you can, you should." I shifted my bag to the other shoulder, adding, "I know Emme won't mind. It's a massive wedding and I have a plus-one but there wasn't anyone I wanted to bring until… If you wanted, you could come. With me."
He stared off into the terminal for a minute. It was just enough time to replay every desperate, rambling thing I'd said.
Then he cleared his throat and folded me into his arms. I went, a bit stiff and slightly confused. He held me tight until I relaxed into him. "I'm tied up all week," he said, his lips brushing my ear. "I'm sorry."
