Brie has meworking ahead on holiday dishes, so I spend the day making six types of stuffing and dreaming up new takes on turkey. We eat the results for dinner, and I almost throttle my father when he pronounces that the apricot and sausage stuffing is a masterpiece, and why do we do it the same every year?
That night, after Dad goes to bed, my mom and I sandwich salted caramel ice cream between her chocolate-chip cookies and eat them while standing at the kitchen counter.
“I might have fallen in love with George,” I say.
She sets her ice-cream sandwich on the counter and brushes the crumbs from her hands. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yeah,” I say. I really do.
We sit side by side on the porch swing, and I tell my mom about George’s plan. I tell her about the floating sauna, andsurfing, and the food. But mostly, I tell her how the week in Tofino made me see George in a new light.
“I always knew he was attractive, inside and out. But whenever I found myself thinking about him in that way, I ignored it. I forced him into a corner of my mind and never let him out. But this past week…he wasn’t in that corner anymore, and I saw how he’s become this incredibleman. He was always just George, you know? He was alwaysthere. And now he’s…” I gaze out at the hedge that divides our property from the Big House. “George.”
I love him. I love him so much I feel like I might drown in it. I love that he’s nearby, but that he’s giving me space. I love how he provokes me and takes care of me and doesn’t let me off the hook for anything. I turn back to my mom. “Do you have any advice for me?”
“No.” She pats my knee. “I know you’ll figure it out.”
Before I go to bed, I cross the field, my heart in my throat, and leave a note for George in the mailbox.
Is there more?
• • •
There’s a crispwhite envelope waiting for me in the mailbox the next morning. On it, in George’s handwriting, isAGE 12. I open it greedily.
Dear Frankie,
Today we were riding home on the school bus, and the girls behind us were saying mean things about Avery Harper-Klyne.You turned around and started telling them off, and it was awesome! You don’t even like Avery all that much, but you really don’t like when people are cruel. I was thinking about how you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, but then I was also thinking that you’re the prettiest one, too. You have nice hair and eyes, and I think your face is beautiful. I’m pretty sure you’d hate it if I told you that, so I’m not going to give this letter to you.
George
The first time I read it, I laugh. The second time, I cry. I’d give anything to hug twelve-year-old George and tell him that he’d have to be patient—that he knew his own heart much better than his best friend knew hers.
On the back of the envelope, George has written a question:Do you want more?
I keep the letter in my back pocket all day. I don’t know why I delay responding, because whether I want more is beside the point. I need more. After dinner, I writeYeson a corner of paper and leave it in the birdhouse.
In the morning, another envelope is waiting for me.
AGE 13
Dear Frankie,
Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it: I like you. There. That feels…weird, but also good.
We were swimming today, and then we were reading by the pool. I just looked over at you, and the words came into my head as if someone else was saying them: You like Frankie.
It explains A LOT. Like why I think about you when we’re not together and have dreams about you. Mimi says I have a crush. I don’t know how she could tell, but crush seems like a silly word. And nothing about this feels silly.
George
There’s a letter waiting for me every morning.
AGE 15
I thought going out with other girls would help me not like you anymore. But I don’t think it’s working. I just compare them to you, and they’re never as good, and I feel like a jerk. I thought Nicole could be different. She’s pretty and smart, and when we fool around, I forget about you. But then you’ll do something, like draw me a map of all the places you want to travel together, or yell at our French teacher, or—the worst—close your eyes when we dance with a big smile on your face. And I’m fucking done for. Again.
AGE 16
