Ryan waves me into the yard, where we sit on the cool grass close to the box hedge. I ask him about Xavier, and he goes incandescent, talking about his air force boy. “He told me Lackland Air Force Base is on his list of possible duty stations when he’s done at the MLI. That’s in San Antonio, which means we wouldn’t be inconceivably far from each other.”
I smile, happy for them, but rueful, too, because soon, Mati and Iwillbe inconceivably far from each other. “You guys are going to live happily ever after,” I tell him.
He gives my arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Mati’s gonna be home alone this afternoon. He wants you to come by. His parents are headed to San Jose for one of his father’s appointments, and if you go over after lunch, y’all should be good for a few hours.”
My impulse is to resist a secret meeting. It’s shameful—not being with Mati, but thewaywe have to be together. Still, time with him outweighs my moral hesitancies. “You really think it’s okay? I don’t want to get him into trouble with his parents. Hismother.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Hismotherwill never know. But I can call him and double-check.”
“I’d rather call him myself, and I’d like to visit him without feeling like a sneak. I want him to come to my cottage and hang out, talk my mom’s ear off like you just did. I want the world to let us be.”
“Sucks, Elise. Truly. But at least you guys will have this afternoon.” He pulls out his phone and taps out a text. “I’m gonna tell him you’ll see him later.”
I should be excited—this reunion is a week in the making. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t rushing headlong toward inevitable separation. I can’t stop thinking about how hard it’s going to be when he leaves the United States, because thanks to days of unavoidable distance, I know how much it sucks—how much ithurts—to be away from him.
I spent most of last night awake, watching for shooting stars through my open bedroom window, trying to decide if being with Mati is worth the worry and the stress and the feeling of pending doom that won’t let me be. His mother’s reaction to us at the hospital flung seeds of doubt through my conscience, and they’re taking root. As often as I try to weed them away, they’re invasive as thistle. I’m barely speaking to my mom, I haven’t seen Audrey or Janie in ages, I haven’t picked up my camera in days.
I feelsad. All the time.
I wonder if I should treat this last week’s time apart as the beginning of our end—if I should break things off now, today, before the task becomes unendurable.
My heart might be better off if I don’t allow it to fall further into him.
Ryan tweaks my hair. “Cheer up, okay? I’m only willing to be the bearer ofgoodnews. I’ll quit playing courier if you’re gonna be bummed.”
I force a smile. “Consider me cheered.”
He goes. I eat a quick lunch, then hustle through a shower and pack my camera bag. I interrupt my mom’s writing to tell her I’ll be shooting around town.
“Hopefully, I’ll be able to return your phone soon,” she says as I stand in the doorway of her library. She’s staring at her computer’s giant monitor, her mind caught somewhere between Cypress Beach and the Wild West. “Oh!” she says, swiveling in her chair to face me. “Ialmost forgot: Audrey called earlier. The restaurant asked her to fill a shift tonight, and she was hoping you’d watch Janie.”
My mouth pulls into a surprised smile. God, I’ve missed Janie. I’m practically jumping up and down at the chance to babysit. “Yeah, I can do that. No problem.”
“No boys,” my mom says sternly.
“You think I’m stupid enough to make the same mistake twice?”
She turns back to her computer. “Sometimes I don’t know what to think, Lissy.”
I leave her to her manuscript.
I once had a thousand desires.
But in my one desire to know you all else melted away.
—Rumi
elise
Mati’s waiting in his front yard.
I spot him from a ways down the block, before he sees me, and study him as I make a quiet approach. He’s sporting his slouchy hat, the one he wore the first time he held my hand, which makes it my favorite of all the hats in the world, and he’s got his notebook propped on a fence post. He’s bent over it, scribbling. As I get closer, I notice his mouth moving, silent words flowing to the page. Even from a distance, he appears buoyant, a thousand times healthier than he did at the hospital last week.
I catch his effervescence as if it were contagious.
I stop. Carefully, silently, I retrieve my Nikon. I locate him in its viewfinder, bringing him into sharp focus. I’ve got only one chance at this—the first photograph has to be perfect because the sound of my camera will interrupt the moment. Biting my lip, relaxing my muscles into stillness, I press the shutter release. My camera emits a softclick-click-clickas it captures Mati in his element, all quiet contemplation and peaceful inspiration. I feel a similar rush of creation as I review thedigital image—it’s flawless, and not because of anything I did. It’shim, caught spinning something from nothing. He’s stunning.
When I look away from the Mati I’ve frozen in time to the Mati who stands twenty yards away, I find him gazing back at me. Returning my camera to its bag, I walk the rest of the way down the sidewalk. He opens the gate. I step into the yard.
