I wanted hockey and winning so bad, when I had it all, they died. It’s almost as if my goals and wants come with a high price, and it’s been impossible for me to know the price tag until it’s too late and I’m in debt with life.
“Okay, and now you’re giving him a chance, right?”
I finish my water, welcoming the break from the conversation. I signal our waitress to bring us more as I consider my answer. She comes quickly, filling up our glasses and asking if we want dessert. I can never decline key lime pie from this place, so I order one, and Natalie gets a coffee.
“But something changed last week.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sharing, or has today already been enough?”
“You’re so thoughtful, you know that? You’re so careful with your words and your time, so respectful with the way you ask questions.”
She huffs. “Oh, not always, trust me. I’m just very regulated right now.”
“Fair.” We smile, looking at each other. I nudge her foot with mine, and I don’t know if I imagine it, but she leans her thigh against mine, closing the space between us even when she’s sitting on the other side. At the same time, her lower lip finds itself in a tug of war with her teeth.
She looks so fragile when she stares at me like this, but I know better. I know she’s the complete opposite. Lip in teeth, leg on mine, and eyes—impossibly blue and green—locked on mine. I want to hold her and hug her and kiss her and never let her go again.
She clears her throat. “Carry on.”
“Well, he told me my mom knew he was alive, and she told him not to find us. Us leaving was rock bottom for him, and he did find help, and a million other details. I’ll spare you the pain and the ugliness, but the bottom line is, he said she knew and she lied to me, and—” I don’t say it. I don’t continue, because admitting it out loud suddenly makes it real. More real, that is, and I refuse to feel anything but good things about her. I already miss her enough; I can’t also?—
“You’re angry.”
“What?”
“And you’re angry at her, and somehow, you feel guilty about that too.”
My hand slides down my hair, and I set my glasses on the table. Suddenly, I can’t breathe. It’s so hot, and the air is too close in here.
“Did I overstep?”
I chuckle. “No. You’re head-on. I wasn’t expecting to be so transparent, that’s all.”
She places her hand on mine where it rests on the table, electricity hitting us both and eviscerating every doubt I had that I made up this connection.
“I’ve been angry too. I can recognize it when I see it—the anger mixed with guilt with a dollop of sadness on the top.”
I nod.
“Textbook grief, Bella would say, but it’s okay to feel it all. As long as you have a safe place to do so.”
Before her, it was my therapist, but the more time I spend with Natalie, the more I realize she’s a safe space too.
“Thank you for being that for me.”
“Oh my gosh, no need to thank me. I’m honored, I’m, I really don’t, I j?—”
“It’s okay, Beauty. I promise.”
She smiles softly, and we get interrupted by our dessert and coffee.
“Key lime pie, huh?”
I take a bite, sliding it on my tongue and humming in satisfaction. “The best,” I mumble around a mouthful. “Want some?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m not a sweets girl. I’d rather have some coffee and savory things.”
