Nathan stares straight ahead, watching the rain through the windshield.I didn’t intend for this to be a test, but in a way, it is.I know how he’dusuallyrespond: judgement.Hurt.Assumptions.So his response will tell me whether or not he meant it when he said he wanted to work toward us being friends again.
“Makes sense when you’re used to being on the go all the time,” he says.“No pun intended.”
I realize I’ve been holding my breath, and I release it as quietly as I can so he doesn’t notice.“Exactly.I was hoping a walk would help clear my mind and maybe trick my body into thinking I was going somewhere.”
The corners of Nathan’s mouth twitch.“I get it.That’s part of why I was out tonight.I had a lot on my mind and was hoping a drive would help.”
“Did it?”What Ireallywant to ask is what he had on his mind.What takes up Nathan’s brain space these days?Grief, naturally, but what else?The business?A person?There was a time when we knew everything there was to know about each other and told each other everything.
“Yeah.Mostly.”He taps his fingers against the steering wheel once more.“Ready to head home?”
“Could we…” I swallow hard.“Could we drive around for a bit?Unless you’re anxious to get home.It’s late.”
He eyes me as he grips the gear stick and shifts it into Drive.“Best time for a drive, if I remember correctly,” he says as he pulls away from the curb.
Nathan was the first of us to get his driver’s license when we were teens, although Liam wasn’t far behind.Neither of them could afford to buy a car, so my dad let them borrow his in exchange for them essentially being his errand boys.He said it was good driving practice and also a lesson in responsibility, plus it saved him and Mum time since they were both busy.Those errands often took us outside Honeywell town limits, whether Dad meant for them to or not.He also let Nathan take the car when we went on dates.There wasn’t much to do around town, so more often than not, we’d go for dinner or a movie and then drive around.
“You know, some of my favourite memories from our teen years include driving around with you and Liam,” I say.“Music blasting, windows down, no real destination in mind.”
“You were the queen of snacks,” he says.“We couldn’t goanywherewithout snacks.Every time I see Hawkins Cheezies in the grocery store, I think about the phase you went through where that was the only snack you’d eat.I spent ages cleaning orange dust off the dashboard, cassette player, seatbelts, and just about every other surface.”
I laugh at the memory.Nathan started stashing wet wipes in the car, and even then, the orange dust seemed to get all over everything.“God, those were the days,” I say with a sigh.“The times we spent driving around felt like my first taste of freedom.”
“While you waited for the real thing,” Nathan says.
I sigh.“You were doing so well.”
He echoes my sigh.“I didn’t mean it in a backhanded way, Fiona.We’re both going to have to stop assuming the worst about each other if this is going to work.We can’t walk around on eggshells, afraid an offhand comment is going to set the other one off.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
He shifts in his seat, gripping the steering wheel tighter.We come to a stop sign, and after a quick glance around to make sure the streets are still deserted, he turns to look at me.“I’msorry.I understand why you think everything I say is a dig, because for a long time, itwas.It was like I literally couldn’t help myself, even when IknewI was being an asshole.”
Headlights flash in the rearview mirror as a car approaches behind us.Nathan returns his attention to the road and makes a right turn.“I can’t promise it’ll never happen again, but I’m trying.Okay?”
“Okay,” I say.“I appreciate that you’re trying.And for what it’s worth, that may have been my first taste of freedom, but when I was with you, I waswithyou.My heart and mind were here, even when I dreamed of far-off places.”
“I know.”The words are barely audible over the hum of the engine and the low music coming from the speakers.Nathan clears his throat, his voice stronger when he continues.“I think maybe that’s part of why I thought you wouldn’t really leave, or that if you did, you’d come back.I kept expecting you to pull away or distance yourself, or to space out and get lost in daydreams and plans, but you never did.”
I did, though.In the year before I left, when I was certain I’d do anything to make my dreams of travelling happen, I spent hours in my room poring over guidebooks and tour brochures, reading blogs, and making endless lists of places I wanted to visit and things I wanted to do.I never shared that with Nathan because I didn’t want to rub it in his face or make him feel like I couldn’t wait to leave.Icouldn’twait, but it never had anything to do with him.
“What are you thinking?”he asks when I’m quiet for a few minutes.
“I was going to suggest we leave the past in the past and stick to the here and now, but I don’t know how that’s possible when you have a literal lifetime of history with someone.We hadsomany good times together.I don’t want to avoid talking about the past in order to avoid emotional landmines.”
“We don’t have to,” he says.“We’ll figure it out as we go.”
This is progress, and I’ll take it.We don’t have to figure everything out in one night or even one week or one month.I’m just grateful to have Nathan back in my life in a meaningful way.Wanting to lighten the mood, I say, “Now I’m craving Cheezies.I haven’t had them in years.”
“I’d stop and get you some if anything was open this late.”
I smile at the offer.“It’s the thought that counts.”
He glances at me as he rolls to a stop at another intersection.“The caveat would be that you wouldn’t be eating them in my truck.”
I laugh, and Nathan shocks me by laughing with me.The sound is like music to my ears.The low vibration of it hits me somewhere deep inside, resonating throughout me.They say laughter is the best medicine, and I understand that now.Nathan’s laughs are rare and often too brief, but there’s something healing about them.The ever-present ache in my heart since Dad died is still very much there, but the pain isn’t quite as sharp.
Since we’re heading in the opposite direction from our street, I settle back in my seat and get comfortable.Nathan asks if I’m warm enough, and I say yes.He turns up the volume on the radio, putting me further at ease since it means he doesn’t expect us to talk.When we were teens, sometimes we’d fill our drives with constant chatter, but more often than not, we simply listened to music while enjoying each other’s company.
