Chapter 51
Miles
Sunday
We always think there isn’t enough time for everything. We delay the idea of getting in a car and visiting a loved one who lives farther away because “this week is too busy,” “next month will be easier,” and “there’s no time today”.
To be back in Evermere because of a phone call with this news was profoundly sad. After all those times I said I would come to visit her improved vegetable garden, I never imagined I would lack the time to see it with her by my side.
I stand outside the chapel after the memorial service. It feels like the whole town has put its life on hold to be here. Miss Amara touched us all.
I watch Ella from a distance. I got in the car knowing I would find her here, wondering how I would feel after these last few months that have given me some space from my heartstrings.
We haven’t spoken yet. We smiled at each other from afar, as everyone here has done with one another.
She’s walking around the chapel square, greeting people with her calm and comforting smile. Next to her stands a tall, striking blonde man, wearing a dark, tailored suit that exudes refinement. He must be Bill.
Bill bends down to her ear and says something that makes her laugh. I lower my chin, trying not to look like it bothers me, pretending that I’m not noticing his arm around her shoulder.
Nothing has ever made me feel such a deep contradiction of emotions.
I want her to be happy, truly happy, next to whoever she wishes to. And yet, it hurts to see her smile at him. But I would choose, without a second thought, to see her fully happy far from me, rather than halfway happy by my side.
I’m not hurt she didn’t tell me about him before the moment she chose to tell me. We were in our own little world, for those barely three days, it felt like life outside it didn’t exist. And that’s okay.
She was always going to step outside that world eventually, and now I’m witnessing where to.
Three boys approach her and Bill, and I can’t believe how grown-up they all look, her brothers. Boys I once built Lego sets with and raced Hot Wheels against are now as tall as I am.
Something inside me warms at the sight, glad to see them growing into themselves.
“Miles? Is that you?” a voice asks, and I turn around to see a woman I used to see so often behind a rustic wooden counter, the best cook ever, still no doubt.
“Miss Nour, you can’t imagine how much I’ve missed your chicken pies,” I blurt out, and she walks over with open arms.
“It’s so good to see you,” she says, her eyes smiling. “Look at you, all grown up. Have you been well?” She watches me with pride, emotion pulsing gently through her words. I feel it. It’s been a very emotional day.
We talk for a while, and she joyfully introduces me to her ten-year-old daughter.
Mr. Tylus, from the school’s stationery shop, joins our conversation. He remembers me too, which surprises me, because in the midst of so many teenage faces, I hadn’t expected he would. His calm, quiet manner used to ground me in the noisy rush of high school.
And then I’m the one who doesn’t recognize a face that approaches me. Joseph, a kid from the CIC’s Youth Club, who’s no longer a kid at all. He walks over and greets me with a firm handshake. Seeing him now, all manly at eighteen, makes me feel both old and strangely emotional too.
“Last time you saw me, I was an eight-year-old learning my first guitar chords from you,” he says, understanding my bewilderment. “Can I show you something? I’ve got my guitar in the car, let me just go grab it!”
I nod, and he heads off with the same spirited energy I remember, just several inches taller.
I look around. Miss Nour invites me for dinner.
I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome.
Joseph returns with his new guitar and eagerly calls Muriel.
I wasn’t expecting to return to a place that still held me so dearly in its memory.