“This?” Chase gestured to the floral display behind her. “I got some of the guys to pick them for this afternoon.”
Norah beamed, her smile bright with hope for the first time in a week.
“I can’t believe you did all of this,” she said.
“I didn’t. Your soldiers did.” Chase grinned back at her.
“I didn’t even think of it. And what about food? We have to feed everyone. And it can’t be the same slop we’ve been eating from the mess tent every day. Jamie hated that stuff.”
Chase took a step toward her and put her hand on her shoulder.
“It’s taken care of.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.” Norah rushed closer and hugged her.
“You don’t have to say anything. You just focus on honoring your friend.”
The afternoon sun was low on the water. Norah spent an hour going through what little clothing she had, wondering what would be appropriate to wear to a memorial service in the middle of the swamp during a pandemic. Pretty much everything she had there was now worn and tattered, but she settled on a blue button-down shirt she’d brought in case she had to meet with anyone outside of the camp and a pair of black slacks. She had brought some basic makeup for the same reason, just a tube of lipstick and some mascara, but it hadn’t seen any use until that day. Her hair, which was usually tossed up in a careless ponytail, hung loose over her shoulders. There was no mirror, of course, and she wasn’t really sure why she cared about looking nice. For some reason, it just felt important.
She hadn’t realized how many people were in their camp until they were all standing in one place. The mood was somber but also somehow celebratory. Jamie’s photo rested against an altar of wildflowers, and a folded American flag lay beside it. A beautiful wooden plaque that apparently John had managed to carve himself would act as her epitaph until a proper one could be resurrected back home. Sitting on a folding chair with a guitar in hand was Stevens, who plucked the strings like he himself hadn’t just been fighting for his life a few weeks ago. It was the perfect homage to Jamie, and Chase had done it all.
At the front of the sizable crowd, hands clasped in front of her, was Chase. She whispered something to John, and he laughed softly—the kind of laugh that you hear only at funerals, where the living are caught in that odd in-between of remembering their lost loved one and reflecting on their own remaining time on earth. Chase spotted Norah, her face lighting up like it always seemed to when Norah entered a room. What a gift, Norah thought, to be loved so fiercely by someone for so many years. As she approached Chase, who reached out to her and placed an arm around her waist, Norah was suddenly overcome by just how selfish she’d been. What was she doing? Was she just punishingChase on repeat? Jamie was gone. And if she were still there, she would have told Norah to look what she had straight in the eye and stop overthinking it.
“I…uh…heard this poem somewhere back in college,” Chase said, clearing her throat and fiddling with her fingers. She always hated public speaking, and Norah had no idea what she was doing up there in front of everyone.
“I always remembered it. And now, I can’t help but think of Jamie when I read it.”
Some nights you will feel like a thousand galaxies are exploding in every inch of you and you are burning too bright to ever be looked at directly, and some nights you will feel impossibly small, like your whole body could slip through the space between atoms and never reappear in this world again…and some nights you will feel like each cell in your body is made of the strength that holds the whole planet together, and that is okay, because you are made of stardust and miniscule atoms and breakable bones and the building blocks of everything in the universe, and you are too alive to ever feel anything more than human.Something inside Norah broke open. It was closer to a blossoming than a shattering though. The fragility of this life was all at once so obvious to her. She let herself cry large, restorative tears that mourned the loss of a friend she had tried desperately to save but also celebrated the fact she was still alive. And so was the woman she loved.
Chapter Twenty-two
Almost everyone had taken the rest of the evening off. The crowd that had lingered after Norah delivered the eulogy slowly dissipated but excitedly made plans to have a bonfire that night and toast with whatever was left of the expensive champagne Chase had somehow commandeered from New Orleans.
Norah went back to her tent alone, grabbed a clean pair of shorts and her worn army sweatshirt, and took a long shower. She let the water burn so hot it scalded her skin, but it also grounded her, the pain a reminder that she still had time. It all felt so foolish now, the way she’d kept Chase at a distance for so long. Mistakes had been made. She hadn’t forgotten that. But Chase had also proved to her every day recently that people can change.
The fear was still there as Norah toweled off her hair and brushed out some of the knots. She had no way to be certain Chase wouldn’t abandon her the way she had before. She had no guarantees. She could easily live with the fact that life didn’t promise any guarantees and that any one of them could drop dead tomorrow. Was it so difficult to accept the same about love?
It might not have been the perfect moment or even day to find Chase and tell her about the onslaught of thoughts she’d been wrestling with since Jamie died. But a perfect moment, or day, might never come. Norah reminded herself that tomorrowisn’t promised. And suddenly she had to get to that bonfire as soon as possible.
Norah’s hair was still wet, held back in a lazy bun, and she basically ran back to her tent, where she tossed her dirty clothes and towel onto the ground and rushed back outside. Chase had to be there. She just had to be.
A fire much bigger than Norah had expected blazed under the night sky. If she hadn’t been so distracted by the way the light played off Chase’s strong features, she might have noticed that all the stars were out again too. But all she saw was Chase.
Norah forced her feet to stop moving for a minute and filled her lungs with so much air her chest hurt. She pushed the air out, the nervous excitement flooding her entire body. There was no doubt in her mind. The past be damned. She wanted Chase, and she wanted all of her.
“Hi,” Norah said, trying to settle her breath as she stood so close to Chase their shoulders touched.
“Hi.” Chase gave her that look again. It was the same one she’d given her a thousand times since they’d been there. Her eyes held what Norah could only call unconditional love. She gazed at Norah like she was the only woman she’d ever seen, and the only one she would ever see again. It was the same look Norah had hated when they first arrived. She’d hated it because she didn’t know how to accept the love Chase so clearly still carried for her. Now all she wanted was to be loved by Chase and to love her in return.
“Can we go somewhere?”
“Sure. Should we hit up a bar or a club or something?” Chase was teasing her but seemed to quickly pick up on the seriousness of whatever Norah wanted and changed course. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”
Norah smiled, momentarily embarrassed by the increasing presence of the butterflies in her chest, feeling like she was fourteen again and about to confess her crush on the neighbor boy across the street.
Chase led her away from the crowd and down the dirt path, back toward the water where Jamie had been remembered earlier. Everyone, even John, was at the bonfire. She and Chase were completely alone. As they walked in silence, Chase weaved her fingers through Norah’s in a way that was startlingly more intimate than even sex could ever be.
The peepers sang their semi-melodic song, and in the distance a bullfrog was making himself known, rhythmically chiming in as the baritone of the choir. Now Norah noticed the stars. They were enormous—bright lanterns in the sky against a pitch-black background that you could get lost in if you stared at it too long.
