Jake does what he can to make sure this happens next summer, but he will not be there himself. He spends the winter with me talking about needing a change and feeling restless. He's already committed to one last season at the resort, but he sets off in April with a resignation letter in his luggage and the promise that I will be there just over a month later.
Jake wants me there as I have been every year since he started, and I can’t deny that I want to go to the place where I will possibly return to Marty in twelvemonths’ time. I want to send him one last postcard, even though I haven't received any from him in over a year. I want to remind him of my promises to him. It was not goodbye forever, not from me. And everything will be okay, because even though I want it to be okay with Marty, I also know it will be okay without him. I needed this time apart to know that that truth is what will make it so much betterwithhim.
Dear Marty, Happy 28th Birthday! I think I saw the green light in a sunset tonight, the 1458th sunset since our last one together. I promise you. Everything will be okay. Jenna x
I kiss his name twenty-eight times.
1826 Sunsets After Their First Sunset
(aka Five Years Later)
Chapter Fifty-Three
Marty
Ibroke up with Ciara two months ago.
It was a joint decision. Communication was breaking down and neither of us had the energy or desire to battle it out when walking away and being respectful was an option. While I've had my doubts in the last few months, I’m finding more peace with it. The fog of sadness I was waking up with now lifts by the time I've had my run and my second coffee. When I'm at work, I find I can forget how she snorts a little when she laughs and how she never gave me a cup of tea without a biscuit. Sometimes, when I'm walking AJ, I feel happy for her that she can now go on and meet someone else who is ready for marriage and babies and giving her all the things she wants.
And now, on a bright late May morning, on a bike ride with Da, I finally feel like it was the right decision.
“You look like you've been sleeping more,” Dad says as we wheel the bikes into his garage. I stayed over last night, went to the pub with a few friends, and today Maeve is coming over for lunch before she flies off to Paris for another work trip. I'll be working tonight, but it's good to know I now have a day of relaxing, eating Mum's roast dinner and irritating my sister ahead of me now our exercise is done.
“Yeah,” I say. “I've been going to bed a bit earlier, when I can. Last night helped too. Never thought I'd sleep so well in my childhood single bed that is almost a foot too small for my lanky arse.”
“And to think you shared it with Arnie many a night.” Dad chuckles.
My eyes widen. “You weren't supposed to know about that.”
“Oh, I didn't at the time. It takes me a long time to catch up with what's going on, but when I know, I know,” he says, tapping his nose. “Come on. Let's go inside and annoy your mother until Maeve gets here and then we can piss her off too.”
“Sounds like a plan. But I call shotgun on the shower!” I race off, my cleats clip-clopping on the driveway.
After I’m showered and dressed, I go to the kitchen and make a coffee. I call for AJ as I slip on my trainers, getting ready to take him for a walk.
“I've already taken him,” Mum says when I reach for his lead on the kitchen counter.
“Serious? Thanks, Ma,” I say giving her a peck on the top of her head. “How's the bird doing?”
She follows my nod to the oven where a chicken is roasting. I can smell all the right things; garlic, lemon, rosemary and thyme.
“Grand,” she says. “Marty, could we sit down and have a wee chat?”
Mum moves to the circular kitchen table and sits. It's then that I see she has something in her hands. With AJ on my heels, I go to the table and sit, feeling both curious and alarmed.
She sucks in a deep breath, then starts talking.
“You're either going to hate me or love me for this. Maybe it will be both, if I'm lucky, but I have thought long and hard about this many times over the years and I still stand by my decision.”
I open my mouth to speak but she doesn’t give me a chance.
“What you've done and achieved and experienced in the last few years, Marty, it's really quite remarkable. And you did it on your own terms. And I'm not talking about your work achievements or your travel and life experiences, more who you are, who you've grown to be. Marty, that's the real success.”
“Ma,” I say, my eyes narrowing on the things she holds in her hands. They're postcards. Postcards from a sunny place with blue seas and skies.
She inhales, exhales. Her hands are shaking a little. “Jenna sent you a postcard from Crete every summer for the last four years. I'm assuming her brother was still working there, or maybe she just went back because it was... it was where she met you.”
My mouth is open but there are no words. There isn't even much air moving in or out.
