22 Farewells Are Necessary. They’re the Prelude to Seeing Each Other Again.
22
Farewells Are Necessary. They’re the Prelude to Seeing Each Other Again.
I woke at dawn. Trey was sleeping like a log next to me. One of his arms was serving as my pillow, and the other was wrapped around my waist. I could get used to waking up like that every day.
His face was the pure reflection of peace, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I buried my nose between his neck and shoulder and inhaled his scent, and I loved how electric, now nervous it made me feel, all those sensations I couldn’t control. And the knowledge that they wouldn’t go away, that they were here to stay because he was here to stay. I held on to those feelings to keep from falling into sadness.
Because it hurt, leaving Petit Prince, but at the same time, there was excitement in it. A strobe light of emotions, flitting back and forth, until I could hardly tell one from the other.
What a huge, mysterious inner world we human beings harbor…
These feelings are all that life is, really. Once you learn that, once you internalize it, the knowledge never leaves you. And you stop being scared. You just accept that there will be good days and bad. Good moments and bad. That life will always be that back-and-forth for you, at least if you’re like me. That you can hold those two extremes inside you, impossible as it seems.
I kissed Trey on the throat and got out of bed without making noise, taking leftovers from the fridge to make a breakfast of tortillas and eggs.
I didn’t rush. I ate calmly and stared out the window. By the time I finished my coffee, it was cold. Then I went to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and heard the water striking the porcelain. I stripped slowly and stood beneath it. The heat overtaking my body was pleasant. I squeezed shampoo into my hand and washed my hair, and though my eyes were closed, I knew the shower door had slid open. I could hear it and feel the rush of cold air. Then it shut, and it was warm again.
He forced my hands down and rubbed my scalp with his own hands, then guided me under the water and washed away all the foam. From behind, he hugged me and kissed the back of my ear. His fingers traced little circles on my skin as they edged their way toward my breasts.
“My precious mermaid,” he whispered.
His hands slipped downward, and I felt a whirlwind of desire between my legs when his fingertips reached their destination. His touch was soft but passionate, his movements rhythmic, growing in intensity as my breaths grew shallower.
I abandoned myself to pleasure. Then he turned me around. I opened my eyes, and he was there. Pure, ferocious desire overtook me. The warmth of him. Fire.
My hot Trey , I thought with a smile.
We made love under the water. When it was done, we held each other. Fragile. Invincible. Two hearts together as one.
We packed our bags and took them out to the car. Then we cleaned up inside and turned off the gas and the breaker box. The house was silent, cold, and neat, and looked as if nobody had been there at all.
I felt as if there was a stone in my chest as I heard the lock click and Trey took out the key.
We held hands as we walked to the beach toward Adele’s house. I’ve never liked goodbyes, and that one was going to make me sad indeed. I’d admired her since I was little, and now I adored her as a woman, a real person.
The blue house sat perched like a tiny lighthouse on the cliff. A few minutes after taking the path, we had reached the top. Sid saw us from yards away and raised a hand in greeting.
“What a surprise,” he said.
“We came to say goodbye,” I replied.
“Well, I’m sad to see you go.”
Adele came out with a smile on her face, wiping her hands off with a rag as we approached. She hugged me tight.
“You look gorgeous.”
“It must be the sun. I’ve gotten a little bit of a tan.”
“It has a magic effect on people here on this island.”
She was right, I thought. After standing back to look at me a moment, she turned to Trey with a strange grin on her face, as though she knew something I didn’t.
“We’re going,” I said, unable to hide my sorrow.
“Oh, honey, you say that like you were telling us goodbye forever. Listen, now. You can think of this as your new home, and I hope you’ll come visit as often as you wish. You’ll always be welcome.”
I couldn’t help but feel moved. I hugged her again, catching her off guard and making her stumble, and we both laughed until we had tears in the corner of our eyes. I don’t know why, but I seemed to be special to her, too.
“Come, I have something I want to give you.”
She guided me to her workshop and opened a drawer in a white cupboard, taking out a cardboard box that was tied with a lavender ribbon. She handed it to me with outstretched arms.
“Don’t open it until you’re gone.”
“What is it?”
“A surprise.”
I nodded. “I’ve got something for you, too.” I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the piece of red glass I’d found just after arriving on the island. “I want you to have this.”
“Harper, it’s yours. I can’t accept that. If you knew how rare they were…”
“I do know, that’s why I want you to have it. I’m sure you’ll do something beautiful with it.”
She looked at me, and then at the carmine tear in the palm of my hand before grabbing it and squeezing it.
“Thank you.”
“Adele, I’m going to miss you. You…you’ve helped me in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“You made your decision, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m not going back to my old life. It’s not for me. I got used to living in it, but I didn’t feel it was mine. It was just habit or resignation that made me believe it was right for me. I mean, I don’t regret studying literature and I don’t regret my internship at the publisher. Those were wonderful opportunities, and I learned a lot. But…these days here opened my eyes, and I’ve realized I want more than that. More freedom. More happiness. More…life. Do you understand?”
“Of course I do. Years ago, I had that very same feeling. Now you see, it’s not so complicated, right?”
Her expression was bewitching—the same expression that had drawn me in as soon as I met her—and I knew right away she was talking about Trey and me.
“No, not anymore. To tell the truth, nothing could be easier.”
“Well, I’m happy for both of you. You make a beautiful couple.”
Sid drove us back home. We had lost track of time, and the ferry left in less than an hour.
“See you later,” he shouted from the open window after dropping us off.
Trey got into his SUV and started the engine. I waited a moment before leaving in my own car. I needed to look back at the house one last time. I took a deep breath. It smelled of the sun and the sea. Birds were flying back and forth, cawing constantly, diving down toward the water to catch fish. The sky and the ocean melded on the horizon. The sound of the waves was almost deafening, even from there. I tried to memorize it all, down to the last detail, so my imagination could treasure it forever.
We dropped in at Ridge’s restaurant to say goodbye. Nice as ever, he packed us a bunch of food to go and invited us to come back whenever we wished. He walked us to the port. The sight of him, shrinking as we floated out into the sea, was the last image I had of that island that had changed my life.
Two hours later, we reached the wharf in Souris. Trey drove his car out of the ferry’s hold and slowly down the ramp. I followed him out in mine and parked it in the lot at the port, where I could have someone from the rental company pick it up for a fee.
I got in Trey’s car. We had a long drive to Montreal. Seven hundred miles, easily. An adventure.
“You ready?” he asked me.
“I’m ready.”
He stomped the gas, the motor roared, and we took off. We passed the hours talking, listening to music, holding hands, getting to know each other.
He told me some things I hadn’t known about, like his spats with my brother when they were young and stupid—in his words. It was funny, hearing about the trouble they had gotten into. Each situation was more ridiculous than the one before it.
We stopped a couple of times. Once to fill up and once at a Tim Hortons to grab a bite to eat. I watched the sky go dark, watched the lights of city after city recede into the background. On a desolate stretch, in utter darkness, I asked him, “Where are we?” trying not to yawn.
“We’re almost to Edmundston. We’ll stop at a hotel and catch some rest there, I think.”
I stretched my arms out and rubbed my sore muscles.
“That sounds good. Every inch of my body feels tight.”
He grinned, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe I can do something to loosen you up.”
I shook my head. Soon we saw a sign marking Exit 26, and we pulled off, parking in front of a cute little Days Inn with blue walls and white columns. We got out and stretched our legs before taking our bags out of the back and entering reception.
A pleasant-looking girl behind the counter gave us a room on the second floor.
Trey let me shower first, and I stayed a while under the water. I shaved my legs—I’d been putting it off a few days—and rubbed myself down with lotion when I got out before putting on a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt.
I found Trey lying in bed scrolling through the channels with the remote. He whistled when he saw me, eyeing me up from head to toe.
“What are you trying to do to me?” he asked.
I threw the towel at him that I had been using to dry my hair. He got up, walked past me, gave me a kiss, and smacked me on the butt. I looked at the little dimple in his cheek and thought I might die.
The bed creaked when I sat down on it. I opened my purse and took out the tiny box Adele had given me. I carefully untied the ribbon to keep from tearing it and lifted the lid. There was a red envelope inside and a necklace. I lifted it up and looked at the bit of cobalt-blue glass polished by the sea, held in place by silver wire. Next to it were several charms: a seahorse, a star, and a mermaid holding another tiny piece of glass in her hands.
My eyes got misty, and I had a lump in my throat as I put the necklace aside and opened the envelope. Inside were a couple of photos. One was identical to the photo I’d seen in Adele’s workshop at her home: her, radiant, smiling, holding one of her prizes. I turned it over and saw her message:
Thank you for giving meaning to all those years of work. The admiration’s mutual, my little mermaid.
I had to cover my mouth with my hand when I looked at the next one. I don’t know when it was taken, or by whom, but there we all were: Adele, Sid, Trey, Ridge, even Peter and grumpy old Emma.
And me.
I looked so happy, I could hardly recognize myself. It was from the lunch we all had together after the storm. I turned it over and saw another message on the back.
Farewells are necessary. They’re the prelude to seeing each other again, and that means there’s no need for sorrow when you and I say goodbye.
Come back soon, dear.
Trey came out and sat next to me. When I looked over at him, I saw the water dripping from his hair.
“Fun day, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said, still staring at the photo. “Do you remember who took it?”
After a moment’s thought, he responded, “I think it was Ridge’s sister. What was her name?”
“Carlie.”
“Yeah, her. I saw her snapping pictures with her phone.”
“I’m going to miss them. All of them.”
Ruefully, I put the photo away.
“You know we can go back whenever we damn well please, right? We can turn around right now if that’s what you want. All you’ve got to do is say the word.”
But when I looked up into that handsome face—the word love dancing on the tip of my tongue, when I uttered it after kissing him— I love you —too softly for him to hear, because I was too scared to shout it—I knew we couldn’t turn around. Not yet. And so I handed him the necklace and asked, “Do you mind?”
He nodded, and I turned around and let him part my hair in the back and clasp it. Then he planted his lips on the spot his fingers had touched and left them there for several seconds.
We got into bed. Trey turned off the TV and the lamp on the nightstand, and with the curtains drawn, I could barely see. I cuddled up to him, and he hugged me, letting me rest my hand on his chest. Our legs wrapped around each other. Tired as I was, though,I couldn’t sleep when I closed my eyes. My mind was too busy trying to absorb the happiness that being held by him brought me.
“What will you do when you get back?” he asked, running his hands through my hair.
“I don’t know. I’ve got so much on my plate that I don’t know where to start. I guess the first thing is to go see my grandmother’s lawyer to get his help with the paperwork. I need to go to Toronto, too: settle up with my landlord, get my things… I need to talk to my professors, to the publisher, to let them know I won’t be finishing my internship. My God, I’ve still got manuscripts to go through! I should at least correct those and turn them in before I call it quits.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it all done. You just need to organize yourself a little.”
“It sounds so simple when you say it like that.”
He laughed. “Look on the bright side. You’re not one of those people anymore who lives without living. On autopilot twenty-four hours a day. Chained to the phone, to your email, to your job… Never able to stop and rest or really feel anything. You’re the master of your time now, of your life. That’s amazing.”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, kissing him on the chest.
“I’m always right. Always.”
“Easy now—don’t be so humble. You should think more highly of yourself,” I joked.
“You’re right. Sorry. I forgot to add that I’m also perfect. Just look at this face and this body. I’m a ten out of ten. And smart, to boot.”
“Smart I’ll give you…” I said. “Everything else, too. Always right, handsome, generous, and a little naughty…”
“Naughty?”
“You know it’s true. One of those guys who acts tough and walks through life like he doesn’t give a damn about anything. I know a secret, though. You’re a softy, deep down. You’re sweet as chocolate.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”
“It is,” I said, adding, “I like myself a naughty boy.”
His fingers moved slowly down my ribs to my waist and drew tiny figure eights on my hip. The symbol for infinity.
“Okay. So I’m sexy. I’m sweet as chocolate. And I can fuck like a god.”
“Exactly!” I shrieked. “Just own it! The whole world is thankful you exist.”
The game came to a stop there. I thought it was all funny, but he must have been starting to get uncomfortable, because he needed a moment before he spoke again. “Jesus,” he said finally, “you must think I’m completely fucking full of myself.”
“Not at all. You need to do something about that fucking mouth, though.” As he tickled me in response, I said, “Seriously though. You’re self-assured. I like that.”
“So what else do you like about me?”
“I like how everything’s just okay when I’m with you. You make me feel like everything’s possible.”
“What else?”
“I like how you look at me.”
“Like you were a drop of water and I was wandering thirsty through the desert?”
“Yeah. And I like the way you kiss.”
He bent over me and did it, slowly, softly. “I’m glad. Because I’d happily kiss you every day, every hour, every minute…every second.”
“And I love being in bed with you and talking. Or not talking.”
“Tell me more.”
I reached around and touched the small of his back, arching to bring him in closer to me. This was getting exciting.
“I love looking at you. Touching you. Feeling you.”
Trey’s phone buzzed just then, and I could see the light from it glowing on his face. He looked at it briefly, then put it away, holding me tight and burying his face in my neck. The phone buzzed again. And again.
“Couldn’t that maybe be important?” I whispered.
“It’s your brother,” he murmured. “He’s been writing me for days and I keep ignoring him.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to lie to him, and I don’t want to tell him I’m with you. Not until I’m sure.”
“Sure of what?” I held my breath.
“Sure of you,” he replied. “Sure of us.”
“Of me?”
“I can’t tell him I’ve lost my head over his sister and I don’t give a damn whether or not he likes it! Not until I’m sure this is real for you.”
“It’s real.”
“How do you know? What if everything you felt these past few days was just your imagination? Maybe everything is just you idealizing me. Like a pleasant dream. Maybe when you’re back in your routine and everything’s normal again, you’ll…”
I silenced him with a kiss and wrapped my legs around his hips. And in that kiss, I tried to encapsulate everything I felt for him. Everything in my heart, everything in my body and soul. I pushed him over and sat on top of him, pressing my forehead into his, mingling our breaths. I couldn’t see his face, but I kept my eyes open anyway, riding him back and forth. Deeper. Harder. I had to, I didn’t have the words to calm his uncertainties, so this was the only way I knew to tell him this was real.
Sometimes words don’t work, and we have to find another language to express ourselves. Especially when it matters. Especially when you need a person to know that what you have is forever. I used my lips, my skin, my hands, our moans to speak to him. My body shouted to him that I couldn’t imagine living a single day without him. And I could tell that his body was saying the same.
At some point I froze and collapsed on top of him, and I heard him singing to me. He stayed inside me as he held me tight, and I envisioned an entire film about the two of us divided into chapters. Perfect scenes. Intense dialogues. A happy ending, and an epilogue showing how everything stayed beautiful into eternity.
What I didn’t see was the bump in the road that turned everything upside down. Every story has one, or more than one, the way an earthquake has aftershocks that can shake the foundations of the tallest building until you’re certain it will topple over. Unpredictable twists and turns you can’t control, destructive as natural disasters. Unbeknownst to us, we were in the eye of the storm.