Tastes Like Winter Page 17

  Mom sounded even more excited to tell me that she was one hundred percent committed to getting back into her former life as an interior designer. She apprehensively told me that after reaching out to her old boss, she was offered a position working on a huge hotel renovation project out in Colorado. Apparently our mother-daughter trip was actually a scoping meeting, and when I was out hiking, she was interviewing and touring the hotel site, not at the spa as I’d originally thought. Since we have been back, she has been tirelessly putting together a full proposal for the redesign, hence all the hours online.

  When she proposed the idea of us moving, I didn’t fight it. With Genna gone and Jake out of the picture, there is no real reason to stay in High Beach any longer. She squealed with joy when I agreed, and suddenly, the “maybe temporary position, which she was probably going to turn down” transformed into a “definite offer she couldn’t afford to miss out on.”

  I gave her a big hug and told her how I’d suspected that she was being secretive because she was planning something big for my eighteenth birthday. She felt bad that that wasn’t the case and promised that we would celebrate together and have a special night out in Colorado once we got there.

  She is so happy, and after everything that has happened this past year, she deserves it. This is something to keep her busy, renew her passions, and bring joy to her life. I didn’t even hesitate when she asked me to come with her. I certainly couldn’t bear any more awkward conversations with my father. Living with him would have been a mess, and when I tried to imagine nightly dinners I envisioned nothing but uncomfortable silence.

  Besides, Mom and I could both use a fresh start, and it was about time we pressed the reset button on our lives.

  When I meet up with Dad at his office, to tell him in person of my decision to go with Mom—something she insisted I do—it is terrible. Worse than I expected, but reinforcing my decision to leave.

  “I understand, sweetie. You can come home for holidays or summers so you can still go to the beach.” As he speaks, Marissa walks into his office, interrupting us to set a stack of papers on his desk, which he starts perusing.

  Irritated by the complete lack of respect, I ask in a low voice, “What would be the point?”

  “Hmm?” he questions, head still down while going over the notes with his assistant. The assistant. I look at them and feel a million miles away. I can’t believe she’s still working for him. I can’t believe how little he cares about me, his own daughter. I can’t believe he even bothers to pretend.

  Well, I am done pretending. So done.

  “What would be the point?” I repeat, my voice louder now.

  Him and Marissa both look up.

  “Excuse me, young lady?”

  “Oh, don’t you dare try to father me now.” I’ve found my backbone. I am tired of people coming and going from my life whenever it pleases them, and I intend to speak my mind. “You don’t see me now, so what’s the point in pretending? What’s the point flying back and forth for holidays? To be ignored by you some more? You can’t even give me five minutes of your attention now to say good-bye. You’re my dad, and I’ll always love you because of it, but let’s drop the act. You live your life, and Mom and I will live ours. It’ll be easier on everyone.”

  Marissa’s mouth drops open, and she fumbles to excuse herself. My dad takes a moment to compose himself before saying, “I’m sorry you feel that way. I do love you. It’s not an act. I’m sorry work keeps me so busy. You’re right. I should make more of an effort.”

  I can’t tell if he means it. I decide I don’t care. I shake my head. Too little, too late. “Okay. We’ll I’m going to go.”

  I don’t know what more to say, so I decide to say nothing. If he means it, he can prove it. I’m done.

  “Bye, Dad.” And I exit the office, ignoring Marissa as she continues to gape at me as I walk by.

  ***

  Two good-byes down, a couple of more to go. I’m still procrastinating in telling Betsy the news of my impending departure. I know I have to, but I’m scared. I haven’t decided if my fear stems from the possibility that Betsy will react poorly to my leaving her and High Street Books behind, or if I’m uncertain at the thought of word getting back to Jake.

  At the end of July, I had to say good-bye to Genna. Even though I convinced myself that I was prepared to see her go, it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Now that I am moving to Colorado, we had to face the truth that I’ll be in another state, and when she comes home for holidays and vacation, I will no longer be in High Beach to see her. Mom told me I could fly back whenever I want, and Genna swears she will come visit me in my new hometown, but I know it won’t be the same.

  I gazed into the bottom of my farewell sundae at Juniper’s on her last day, holding back my sadness, while Genna spoke about her plans for her new dorm. She has been e-mailing her new roommate and arranging who will bring what supplies and decorations. She’s so excited, and I’m certain that she’ll make friends and assimilate to college life seamlessly. I can’t help but wonder how I will do at my new school, and when our final good-bye hug comes, I don’t want to let go.

  “Aww, Em. It’s okay. I’m going to college, not dying. We’ll still talk all the time.”

  “I know, but I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too. But you’re going to have so much fun with your mom in Colorado. Your new school will probably be filled with hot, rugged mountain boys. Honestly, I’ll probably be begging you for details all the time.”

  I chuckled, grateful that my best friend could still pull me out of my own head and get me laughing. “I’m done with boys for a while.”

  “Hush. Don’t be silly. You’ve only just gotten started. I’ll call you as soon as I get to campus and settled in. It might not be till late. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll be waiting for your call. I hope your roommate is cool and doesn’t turn out to be a complete weirdo.”

  “God, I hope not. Okay. I love you, and I’ll see you soon! Chin up.”

  “Gah! Okay!” I pulled her back for a final bear hug before forcing myself to let her go. “I love you. Don’t forget to call. I’ll be waiting.”

  Now, slumped on the floor in the middle of my room, I remember our good-bye, and my heart pings. Genna did call as soon as she arrived and told me that her roommate is acting normal so far, and they are actually getting along quite well, which is a positive sign. We have been chatting online as much as we can, but her new college team practices even more than her high school one, and she has been keeping very busy. Classes start soon, and that will be the real test, trying to juggle coursework, practice, and a budding social life.

  Mom and I are leaving in two days, and there is still a lot of work to be done before we can depart. I struggle to pull the zipper closed on the suitcase before me and stop to evaluate the mess that is my half-packed room. Slowly, but surely. I stand and lug the suitcase, placing it next to the already-packed boxes in the corner.

  After getting my seal of approval, Mom found a family to rent our house. She couldn’t bear to sell my childhood home, and even though I insisted that she was being silly and that she shouldn’t hold on to the real estate on my behalf, she refused. Mom promised to buy Dad out of his share of the house as part of the divorce settlement. Since she couldn’t quite afford it yet, they agreed the rental income would pay the mortgage until she received her first commission check to cover the costs. Since the Colorado position is still temporary at this point, we plan to rent there for a year starting off, to see how things work out, especially considering I will be starting college in a year. The house will still be here if we decide to return. Our plan is to pack the things we need and put the rest in storage. I’m having trouble deciding what is what, hence the landmine explosion that is currently my room.

  I decide to take a break and go into the bookshop even though I am not on the schedule today.

  Betsy is surprised to see me, and w
hen I explain the reason I am there, she is sad to see me go but thrilled for my opportunity to have a new adventure. “Colorado is amazing. You will absolutely love it there.”

  “Yeah, I’m excited. It will be good for Mom and me.”

  She nods. “You’ll be missed in High Beach. I loved having your help this year.”

  “Thank you so much for everything. I loved working here, and you have taught me so much. I can’t thank you enough.”

  I give her a hug good-bye, and she tells me that if things don’t work out and if we find ourselves back in town, my job is always available. She doesn’t ask if I’ve already told Jake that I’m leaving, and I don’t offer. I’m happy that I found the courage and got that over with.

  One more good-bye to go. And sure enough, on my drive home, I receive a text from Jake, asking me to meet him the next day. I assume Betsy passed along the news as soon as I left the store.

  This is the good-bye I have been afraid of the most.

  ***

  I ease my car into the Harbor Side parking lot and drive around to the back. Betsy’s car is already parked, and I slide into the spot next to it.

  Jake is perched on the top of a nearby bench, watching me. He is wearing a thin, grey tee shirt and dark blue basketball shorts. His hair looks longer since I last saw him and has been lightened by the sun. He throws me his signature smirk and stands to greet me as I approach.

  “Hey,” Jake says.

  He gives me a good look up and down, as though he is taking in a cool drink of water. His arms wrap around me in a big bear hug, lifting me gently off of the ground. He sets me back down, and his hands come to rest on the exposed flesh at my waist. The warmth chills me with familiarity.

  I smile up at him and riffle his hair. “Hi, Jake.”

  He pulls my hand down to meet his and naturally leads me towards the jungle gym. He guides me forward, and I teeter up the slide, with him following close behind. His hands fall back to my waist as he helps me to keep my balance. Sensing his eyes on my backside, I blush. I sit down on the top platform with my back against the cool plastic, and Jake falls into place opposite me.

  We stare at each other for a long while, searching for where to begin.

  “I’m sorry,” he starts slowly. “For everything. For that night in my room. For everything that happened after. For the Fourth… I haven’t acted that way since the accident, but everything became too much, and I was tired of trying to be better, knowing better would never bring them back. I never meant to disappoint you.”

  The words are coming now, and knowing he needs to get this off his chest, I let him speak.

  “God, I don’t want to disappoint you, Em. I’ve tried to fight my feelings to keep you from getting hurt, but that night after you came to my house, I made a mistake. I got scared. I didn’t know what I was doing. And then later, what Sam said. I felt like it was karma. Like you came into my life to show me everything I was missing. Everything I didn’t deserve because of the stupid decisions I have made in the past, and I felt their loss all over again.

  “I got fucked up on the Fourth because I wanted to be numb. Because what does being good matter if you’re always haunted by your history? I can’t live like this without them. Time is supposed to make this easier, but it’s not. It’s fucking worse. Every day, it’s worse. I don’t deserve your happiness after what I’ve done.

  “The problem is that I know I can’t live without them, but I also can’t live without you. You do something to me, Em. You make me feel. Feel like I haven’t felt since before my parents… like I haven’t felt ever. You make me feel alive. You make me forget.”

  He shakes his head as he tries to formulate his next words. He is saying everything I have wanted to hear, and my heart is flooding with his confession.

  “That part is worst of all, the part where you make me forget. I don’t think I deserve to forget. Em… I love you. I love you more than I know what to do with, and it terrifies me. I’m sorry I’m such a fuck-up at showing it.”

  “I wish you could have found a way to say all this sooner,” I whisper.

  “I know.” He shakes his head, “Fuck! I tried. All those books? That was my way of trying to show you. I couldn’t bring myself to speak the truth, so I prayed they would do it for me. You’re smart. I knew you would read into them. I wished it would be enough.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  “I know. Trust me, I know.”

  The sadness in his words cracks my heart, and I silence him by reaching out and taking his face in my hands. I stare deep into him, and he stares as intently back, and we continue the conversation without speaking.

  “I love you, too,” I finally admit, and no matter how much I have tried to deny it, I know as soon as I say it that it’s true. My voice is a soft sigh, and before it fully escapes, his lips are on mine. It’s gentle and warm and full of so much weight that my heart completely breaks under the pressure.

  Overwhelmed, I pull away and turn my body so I am lying down against the cold surface of the jungle gym. Jake mirrors my pose, and our heads come to rest next to each other on the hard plastic. I stare up at the sky and paint our story in the clouds.

  I know what I have to say, but I don’t know how. The lines I practiced earlier are all wrong after everything he has confessed. I can feel him looking at me, searching my stern, sorrowful face for an explanation.

  “Jake, I’m going to Colorado…”

  I can feel his expression change, but I can’t risk looking at him.

  “My parents’ divorce went through, and I’m moving with my mom to Colorado. We’re taking a flight out tonight. I know Betsy probably already told you, but I came here to tell you myself, in person. I came here to tell you that I’m leaving.”

  I turn to face him now. I see the news register in his eyes, and they turn to brittle glass. Even though Betsy must have told him, he didn’t allow himself to believe it until this moment, hearing the words from my lips.

  “You can’t leave.” It’s both an order and a question. The words echo for minutes while we both rearrange our thoughts.

  “Jake, I love you. I have loved you. Why did you wait so long to let yourself love me, too?”

  The question falls empty and blows away with the breeze.

  We don’t speak. We don’t need to. I rest my cheek against his and try to formulate an alternate ending to that story of ours in the sky. The shapes are all wrong, and they move too fast, and before I can grasp onto something real, the clouds disperse.

  I sit up to signal the end is near. “I have to go, Jake. I still have packing to do.”

  He nods in mournful acceptance, and now that he has spoken his piece and shared with me his confession, words evade him again. I move towards the ladder and climb down. This time he does not offer his protective assistance as he follows behind me. I hesitate for a moment, wishing he might object, wishing he would tell me something that would make me want to stay. I know it isn’t up to me, but I wish anyway. Something to convince me that we aren’t over.

  I am greeted with silence, but really, what words could possibly do? I turn around, and he takes my hand as we walk back to my car. I try to memorize his skin and soak his warmth into me. We reach my car, and he opens the door.

  I stand conflicted, irresolute.

  He surprises me by saying, “I almost forgot. Before you go, I have something for you.”

  He jogs around to the driver-side door of his car, reaches in the open window, and retrieves a small package, carefully knotted with a string bow. He hands me the package, and I look at him. My eyes ask the questions my mouth refuses to speak.

  “Sorry about my shitty timing, but I wanted to keep my promise. Don’t open it now.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I wonder what it is, but respect his request for me to wait.

  I lean in and brush his lips with mine, one last time. His mouth opens, and I touch my tongue to his. Our mouths say good-bye in a way words never could. His hand grazes my
check, and I turn my head away from his lips and delicately kiss his palm.

  “I guess this is good-bye, Jake.” There is no question of if we will talk or see each other again. There is no point for such empty vows between us.

  “I guess so.”

  I close the door and, using all of my remaining strength, force myself to drive away. From my rearview mirror, I can see him standing exactly where I left him, like a statue, perhaps trying to memorize my lips the way I did moments before with the skin of his hands.

  When I pull into my driveway and cut the engine, my eyes turn to the passenger seat and rest on the small brown package beside me. My hand reaches out and caresses the wrapping, which has wilted from the humidity. I pick up the package and tear it open.

  This time the book is Romeo and Juliet. It’s perfectly fitting. Star-crossed lovers, never meant to be, like me and Jake. There is a note on top, and the pages look as if they have been torn from one of his journals. The corner holds the same date as the evening of my ultimatum, the evening when I told him to think about what he wants, about whether or not he wants me. He must have written it that very same night. It reads:

  Emma,

  I promised you that when I was able, I would tell you how I feel. This letter is me keeping that promise. I'm sorry it took so long and that I had to write it down instead of speaking these words aloud to you in person, but truthfully, I am afraid.

  For years, I have held myself back. After seeing what my parents went through, how could I believe in love? And after what I did to my parents, even if love existed, was it something I deserved? No.

  But as much as I fight it and as afraid as I am to admit it, you have opened my eyes, and now I must accept that love is real, and deserving or not, I feel it for you.

  Maybe my parents didn’t find it and neither did yours—and there is definitely still no love between me and myself—but I’m working on it. You have forced me to see my mistake, and now that I see it, I don’t want to live a life without you in it.

  I promised that I would tell you how I feel, and I can honestly say now that I have never connected with anyone as deeply as I do with you, Em. You’re a curious kitten, always looking for new adventure, be it a new book or a painting on some museum wall. I've seen the greatness of Rome and felt the rush of the Colorado River. I've met peace in the tranquil gardens of the Orient and felt perplexed at the face of Egyptian architecture. I don’t need to travel to experience adventure; I need to be with you.