CHAPTER FIVE ~ GRAEME ~ FOURTEEN YEARS AGO #3
Then Abby, Drew, and Fern came along. They were hilarious, curious, and exuberant, and they lit up my life in ways I never imagined possible.
Their love of Kingston made me see I’d been missing out on the joys of the city.
I had explored a bit on my own while I was at uni, but my life was mostly dedicated to school.
The girls were always up for a wander, though, and they showed Brodie and me around, plus we often took short road trips.
I went from leading a solitary existence to suddenly having this group of friends who shook up my life in all the best ways.
“The timing has worked out perfectly, at least,” I say. “My visa expires around the same time you’ll all be graduating and moving away.”
Abby makes a humming sound as she chews.
I can tell by the far-off look in her eyes that she’s pondering something.
“Is it completely selfish to admit there’s a part of me that wishes you were staying in Kingston?
I know we’d be three hours apart and wouldn’t get to see each other often, but it would be doable. Scotland feels like a world away.”
Warmth spreads through me. It feels oddly like satisfaction, although it’s bittersweet.
“I’ll see your selfish confession and give you my own: part of me wishes we were all staying in Kingston, and that life could go on as it has been.
I know that’s unrealistic, but...” I shrug, feeling relieved when she nods vigorously.
“Then we’ll be selfish together.” She wipes her fingers on a napkin and holds her hand out for me to shake. I chuckle and wipe the grease from my own fingers before closing my hand around her much smaller one.
Our hands stay locked longer than necessary. I’m not sure which one of us lets go first, but we spend the next few seconds busying ourselves with stuffing more food into our faces.
“What about you?” I ask. “How do you feel about the big move?”
She blows out a long breath. “Nervous? Excited?” Her gaze darts to mine, then back to where she’s picking apart a garlic knot.
“Toronto is so much bigger than Kingston, and it’ll be my first time living alone.
I feel like I’ve been in a bubble these last four years.
Drew is my safety blanket, and I’m going to miss Fern.
Plus, I’ve come to rely so much on you and Brodie.
It probably sounds ridiculous, but it’s like I’m finally going to have to be a real adult soon, and that scares the shit out of me. ”
“It’s not ridiculous,” I assure her. “It’ll be a huge adjustment, but you’ll be fine. You’ll make new friends, and Drew and Brodie won’t be too far away. Plus, you’re going to take the publishing world by storm and do great things.”
Doubt creeps across her expression, even as one side of her mouth curves.
“Thanks.” She brushes crumbs off her hands and sits back, angling so she’s facing me with her bent knee on the couch between us.
“As anxious as I am about being on my own, I also think it’ll be good for me.
There are so many things I want to do. I had all these hobbies as a kid because my grandma encouraged me to try different things: painting, beadwork, knitting, jewellery making. ”
“Photography,” I say.
She smiles. “That’s the one thing I still do, although not as frequently as I’d like. I always promised myself that when I was finished with school and had my own place, I’d pick up some of those old hobbies and try new ones too.”
“I bet you could find groups or classes. Could be a good way to meet people and make new friends in a strange city.”
“That’s a great idea.” She says this quietly, as if to herself.
She moves the food boxes around until she finds a pen buried underneath.
I’m about to ask if she wants a notebook—I’ve witnessed her list-making enough over the years to know what she’s doing—when she grabs her purse and removes a crumpled piece of paper.
She smooths it out and scribbles something in the top right corner.
When she catches me watching, she scrunches her nose. “One of my many lists.” She slides it in my direction, and I smile to myself as I read it.
Things to accomplish before moving to Toronto:
Part 1: The fun stuff
-Group hike at Lemoine Point
-Do a 1000 Islands cruise
-Plan and host an epic graduation party
Part 2: The grown-up stuff
-Organize closet and donate clothes I don’t want to take with me
-Follow up with Professor Ludvig about letter of recommendation
-Research area of Toronto I’ll be living in. Grocery stores? Restaurants? Bus stops?
“I haven’t gotten far, as you can see,” she says.
“Want my opinion?” I ask.
“Always.”
I avert my eyes, once more hoping she won’t be able to read my true feelings. I clear my throat and tap the list. “I think you should focus on bulking up the fun stuff. You’ll have plenty of time for all the practical stuff in another few months.”
She twists her lips to one side in thought. “I like the way you think, MacKinlay.”
I laugh under my breath. “If you could do anything at all between now and the time you move to Toronto, what would it be?”
Her eyes immediately light up, then dim just as quickly. She shakes her head. “The one thing I want to do more than anything isn’t possible.”
“Why not?”
She huffs. “So many reasons. It would cost way too much and require too much planning, especially at this point.”
I have a feeling I know what she’s talking about, but I ask anyway. “What is it?”
Her cheeks turn pink. She glances toward the kitchen and moves her feet, giving me the impression she’s about to jump up and literally run away from this conversation rather than answer me.
Finally, she blows out another heavy breath, trilling her lips.
“Visit Scotland,” she says softly, then louder, “I’d visit Scotland.
The girls and I have talked about it a lot since we met you and Brodie.
We always said it’d be our big graduation trip, but we were clearly overlooking the fact we’re poor students living on scholarships, loans, and part-time jobs. ”
After what feels like only a matter of seconds, Abby says my name.
I jolt, realizing I’ve been sitting here, bobbing my head, lost in thought.
She watches me with a concerned expression as I ponder whether to say something meaningless and placating, like I’m sorry they won’t be able to make that particular dream come true, or to spoil a huge surprise Brodie, my parents, and I have been cooking up.
“Graeme.” She pokes my bicep, then lays her warm palm on my bare forearm. “What’s going on?”
Her touch, as simple as it is, makes my brain go haywire. At least that’s what I tell myself before I blurt, “If I tell you something now, do you promise to act surprised when Brodie and I announce it in a few days?”
“Yes, I promise...” Her eyes hold a mix of wariness and excitement. It’s as if she suspects what I’m about to tell her, and yet refuses to let herself actually hope.