Chapter 43
Greta
“A trip to Europe?”
“That’s right.”
“That sounds…incredible!” A smile covers Olivia’s entire face. She’s incapable of being lukewarm.
“It almost makes me dizzy, but I’m sure Lucy would have been into the idea. I haven’t thought much about the details, but I’d like to do it soon, when summer’s over, and stay for a couple of months.”
I look up when I hear the chimes on the door and see Will walk into the coffee shop.
He’s wearing jeans and a dark, short-sleeved shirt, and his hair is wet and uncombed, so I assume he’s just showered.
I told him to come because I wanted him to meet Olivia.
He grins when he sees me, and I see a little dimple appear on his cheek.
His steps are confident and so is the kiss he gives me on the lips.
It still surprises me that he does this whenever he sees me, and it surprises me even more that I can do it back to him whenever I want.
Afterward, he introduces himself to Olivia.
“It’s a pleasure,” she says. “I’ve heard tons about you, but I didn’t picture you like this. Seeing you helps me understand why Greta is so into you…”
I kick her underneath the table, but her yellow combat boots mean she’s impervious to my attack.
“Did you order already?”
“No. We’re about to.”
“I’ll do it. What do you all want?”
“Carrot cake,” Olivia says.
“Make that two. And a cappuccino.”
“Two carrot cakes, two cappuccinos,” Olivia concludes.
Will smirks and shakes his head, as if to say, Now I know why you get along so well. He walks to the bar while we talk about my trip. Will returns, sets down our stuff, and sits next to me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Her trip,” Olivia says.
“Ah, yes. Have you decided where to start?”
He was the first one I told what I was thinking about doing with the money.
After him came Grandpa, when I visited him in the workshop in his garage, and lastly, my parents and Olivia.
They all thought it was a good idea, but I still don’t even know where to start, and I need to get on the ball. I don’t even have a passport yet.
“I’m not sure. We’re not.”
“No, no, that’s your decision,” Will says quickly. “This is your trip. I’m just along for the ride.”
He’s right. When I asked Will if he’d like to come along, he didn’t hesitate a second to say yes, but it’s still my trip.
It’s taken me all this time to realize that I wanted things I didn’t even know I wanted and, sad as it is to say, I didn’t care enough about myself to look into my own heart.
Yeah, life in Ink Lake is pleasant, but I want to see more, lots more.
I want to travel and know who I am when I’m far from home, see myself reflected in other waters, see my origins from a different, more open perspective when I decide to come back.
Olivia grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Answer without thinking. What cities do you want to see?”
I close my eyes and answer, even though it feels stupid, “Amsterdam, Florence, Rome, Paris, London.”
“Not bad.” Olivia lets me go, swallows a piece of cake, and chews pensively. “How long will the trip last?”
“We still don’t know,” I admit.
“Big planners, eh? I’m impressed.”
“I’m just letting myself be dragged along.” Will smiles.
We talk for a while longer. Olivia says no matter what cities I decide to visit, I should go to the library and get some guidebooks.
I’m talking old school, paper, none of that online BS.
I like that plan, turning the pages and vanishing into those faraway places my eyes will soon see.
So I tell her I will as soon as I’ve actually decided.
I say a quick goodbye to them, drain my coffee, and hurry off to walk Mr. Fluff. As usual, Anne greets me with a smile and invites me in.
“I’ve already had a coffee,” I tell her before she can offer me more.
“Perfect. Well, I won’t bother you, then.”
I clip the leash to the dog’s collar and turn back before going out the door. Anne’s standing there, elegant as ever in her green velvet high heels, her black dress with the low collar, and her tights, which she probably doesn’t need in this summer weather. She’s always impeccable; it amazes me.
“Mrs. Rogers…”
“Call me Anne.”
“Anne, I really appreciate what you’ve done for my mother.”
“Silly, I haven’t done anything—”
“I’m serious.” I cut her off. I’m not in the mood to beat around the bush or drop hints when we both know what I mean. “I think she needed a friend to hold her hand. Dad and Grandpa and I couldn’t do it. And everyone had forgotten about her, basically, but you… Well, you gave her a chance.”
Anne purses her lips. I can tell what I’ve said hit home.
“Greta, it was my pleasure.”
Now I smile at her and let Mr. Fluff drag me off down the stairs.
We go to the same park as always and look at the same leaves as always.
A few months ago, that monotony would have depressed me, but everything’s changed, even though it would be hard for me to say what exactly everything is.
Maybe it’s just me. Maybe the simple answers are the truest ones.
When night falls, I go to Grandpa’s for dinner.
“What did you make?” I take the top off the pot.
“Stew. I had to use up what was left in the fridge.”
“It smells great,” I say as I grab a plate to serve myself.
We sit down and share a moment of silence as we shovel it down. I’ve always found a warm meal comforting; it just makes me feel good, especially when Grandpa’s the one cooking. I sigh once I’ve finished everything.
“Well, you can roll me out of here,” I say, leaving the plate in the sink and sitting down in front of him to watch him carefully peel an apple. “I guess I was waiting for you to say something, though.”
“About?” He furrows his forehead.
“What else? About Will.”
“Mmm.” He utters one of those half grunts, half murmurs that I’m supposed to translate, but right now I don’t know what it means.
“Grandpa…” I protest.
“I like him.” And yet I can tell from how he just said this that something else is coming, something I’m going to have to worm out of him.
“But…?”
He takes a deep breath. “He’s got a good heart. But he’s got a mixed-up head.”
“Isn’t everyone like that?”
“Yeah, I suppose.” A spiral apple peel falls on the table. “Every rose has its thorn.”
I don’t dig any deeper. I agree, but I also know that’s not just Will, that’s life.
Life winds around you and ties you in knots and it’s hard to know where the thread starts and ends.
I know that as well as anyone. I still feel half-crazy most of the time, it’s just that I’m paying more attention now and I’m taking things one step at a time and trying to solve my problems before they get out of control.
With Will, it’s not that he can’t do that—it’s that he’s not willing to even look at himself closely because he’s too scared.
“Is everything settled with your trip?”
“No.” I grab the wedge of apple he offers me as if I were still a little girl. “But I think Amsterdam’s where I should start.”
He nods. The conversation ends there, but that’s fine; we don’t mind the silence—we know we’re in good company no matter what.
I leave and head toward downtown Ink Lake on my bike, enjoying the warmth of the air on my face and the burning in my lungs as my legs pedal so hard they start shaking.
After so long, my body and mind are working as one.
And in that moment of freedom, I draw a breath, and with the cold air, I breathe in an idea, and as it grows inside me, I realize there’s no point trying to ignore it.
I chain my bike to a streetlight next to Will’s work and push open the door. It’s full. Paul walks past me with a tray covered in shots.
“Greta! What’s up?”
“Just chilling. Not like you, I see.”
Paul laughs and shakes his head on his way toward one of the tables. I find Will behind the bar and sit on one of the empty stools.
“Didn’t know you were coming.”
“Me neither,” I say. “Something occurred to me on the way over.”
He grabs a bottle and glances at me ironically. “Should I be worried?”
“Not at all. It’s about our trip.”
“If it’s important, I want to pay close attention. Wait a minute, let me wrap up this order and the one after, and then…”
“Relax. Just give me a soda with a bunch of ice and we’ll talk when you get time.”
For the next hour and a half, I sip my drink and read the book I had in my bag.
I look up from the pages and watch Will now and again, loving how meticulous he is, the way he serves drinks without spilling a drop, how organized he keeps things behind the bar, how he keeps tossing aside his dirty rags and grabbing clean ones.
When the day’s over and the customers have left, I stay there with him and Paul, who’s counting the drawer. He shuts it with a pleased look on his face.
“Good night?” I ask.
“You won’t see me complaining,” he says.
“You mind if I head out?” Will asks.
“Nah, I’ll do the cleaning up.” Paul claps him on the back and keeps working as Will comes around the bar.
We go outside and I unchain my bike. His car’s there, but he says he feels like stretching his legs and walks beside me.
We take our time, me pushing the bike, him staring up into the dark sky as if trying to find something.
“What did you want to tell me before?”
“Oh, right.” I think it over one more time. “I think it would be a good idea for us to start in Amsterdam. From there we could go to London, Paris, Florence, and Rome.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“But that could change.”
“Yeah. On a trip like this, unexpected things always come up, so it’s good to keep an open mind.”
“One thing, though.” I interrupt him. “There’s a condition I want to lay down that cannot be changed. I want to stretch the trip out till November 29, and when that day comes, I have to be in Vienna.”
“May I know why?”
“It’s the anniversary of my sister’s death. And I don’t want it to be sad. I refuse to just go to the cemetery to take her flowers. I want that day to be the most beautiful one in the world in case…in case she’s watching me. Does that sound stupid?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I want to see Klimt’s paintings and walk through Vienna and smile.”
“Sounds perfect.” Will bends down, still walking, and kisses my temple. “We’ll do all that. I promise.”