Forty-Five
Shiloh was going to wait a couple weeks, and then she was going to send Cary a text, asking how his mother was doing.
She wasn’t sure he would text her back. She wasn’t sure where they stood with each other.
She’d told Mikey that she and Cary were meant to be friends, just friends. But maybe they were meant to be less than that. Maybe all they had left to offer each other was discomfort.
People come into your life, and it’s good, but it’s finite.
There’d been good in her relationship with Ryan. She got something wonderful there—Junie and Gus. But the relationship ran
its course.
When had her relationship with Cary run its course? When was the last time it was easy? Nineteen ninety-one?
She’d spent more years missing Cary than knowing him. All those years burnishing his memory with nostalgia.
Cary.
Shiloh got an email from Cary a week after she’d rushed after Junie and left him standing on the porch.
The subject line was “Arrived.”
She opened it.
“I got your e-mail address off your business card . I hope it’s okay to write to you here. You can write to me at this address if you ever feel like it. We don’t get cell service
at sea.”
Shiloh replied right away from her personal email address. She asked about his mother and his flight. She asked him if he’d
destroyed anything good yet.
Cary hadn’t asked her any questions in his message. He hadn’t said anything that obligated a reply.
Shiloh only asked questions.
He got back to her a few days later:
His mom had been adjusting to rehab when he left Omaha, he wrote, but he was still worried. His flight had taken a full day
and ended with a helicopter ride. He was back at work now. He worked in Operations, and was almost never called to destruction.
His hours were long, and he couldn’t check his email every day, so she shouldn’t worry if he didn’t get right back to her.
Shiloh immediately clicked reply .