17. Present
Chapter seventeen
Present
The one person I continue to speak to regularly is Jess, who grows visibly concerned. On one hand, she’s interested in this new development in my life, and she’s happy to hear that Matt seems to be doing okay, but she’s worried about what she calls my “sudden attachment” to him.
“I just don’t get it. Aren’t you afraid?” Jess asked me on the phone the other day.
“Afraid of what?”
“Um,” she began. “Him dying? Or Leyla changing her mind and coming back home?”
“I mean, yeah,” I replied. “Of course I am. But what am I going to do?”
“Maybe take it a little slower?”
I sighed. “There is no ‘slower’ with us. We’re all or nothing. Always have been.”
“And you’re sure you’re not just projecting your own feelings onto him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly had an easy run of things in the relationship department over the past few years. But he’s settled down. Have you stopped to think that maybe you guys are in different phases of your life with regard to relationships?”
“I don’t know, Jess. I know he’s not happy.”
“And so that works, since you’re not happy either.”
I mulled this over. “I thought I was doing okay, before all this. I’d kind of sworn off guys, you know?”
“Yes, I remember our chat about you turning into your spinster aunt,” Jess joked.
“But, was I happy? Not exactly. I was existing.”
“And now?”
I smiled. “It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s really not. You found your soulmate, and you’re head over heels in love with him again—”
“Well—”
“Only he’s a fucking mess,” Jess finished.
“Oh my God, Jess. He just needs to get his shit together. Develop a healthier lifestyle. According to his doctors, he could still live a long time.”
“Or he could have another stroke any second,” she pointed out.
“Jesus! What are you so salty about?”
“Listen, nobody wants him to be okay more than I do. Because I love you. And I know how much he means to you. But, I’ve got to be real with you.
I definitely think this whole thing is kind of fucked up.
He’s in a relationship. And there’s a child involved.
The Netflix thing is going to end. She’s going to come back at some point, and, I just—I don’t know.
That house you’re visiting every night is theirs, that’s all I’m saying.
This has gotten way bigger than just some summer camp fling. ”
Even though I knew it was true, the words stung.
“You still there?” Jess asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Listen, I’m just looking out for you. I’m afraid of this whole thing. I feel like you were finally moving on from this part of your life, and all of a sudden, you're right back where you were seven years ago.”
“Listen, I hear you and I appreciate the concern. I wish I could explain it. I know it doesn’t make sense, and I’m risking having my heart broken, but once I saw him again, I just… I don’t know…” my voice trailed off.
“I get it. One question, though.”
“What is it?”
“What would Matt do if he knew the whole truth?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I’d like to think it wouldn’t change anything.”
Several seconds of silence followed. “Just be careful, Taylor.”
“I will. I mean, I am.”
“Also, I know this might sound morbid, but I want you to know I’ll be here for you if it all goes to shit somehow. No judgment. You can always come to me.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have rolled my eyes at a comment like that, even though I knew Jess meant it with all her heart.
But the stakes were different now. Jess doesn’t understand.
She’s never loved someone like this. Even though she’s married, it’s not the same.
In sickness and in health sounds great in theory.
Some people never have to put that to the test.
I was the maid of honor at Jessica’s wedding to Seth Goldstein last year.
Held at a catering hall outside Greenwich, the couple entered into holy matrimony on a lovely Sunday in June.
The whole time I stood beside my friend, I wondered if I would ever find someone to marry, which led me to wonder whether Matt was engaged yet—a possibility that kicked me down an abyss of daydreams about how it would have been if Matt and I had been able to fully realize our second chance.
Our wedding would have been the perfect start to our happily ever after.
Deep in my heart, I still believe this to be true, even now.
Everything between us has always been easy, even when circumstances should have made it insanely hard for me to love him.
After all this time, despite his stroke, despite his doctor’s appointments, despite the fact that he now describes himself as a shell of who he used to be, we have something unbreakable.
We’re so aligned that I can still read his thoughts and offer exactly what he needs, and he knows how to communicate with me so I can be the best possible support system for him.
There are couples who last an entire lifetime and don’t know each other as well as we do.
But, I know, Jess is right. We’re not a couple.
We’re two friends who love each other but are bound by circumstances beyond our control.
It’s the worst and best kind of torture.
We’re close but never quite close enough, partly because of his relationship status and partly because of his current health situation, leaving me always wanting more.
Oddly enough, some of the space in my heart is also being filled by Brett. Being needed is a powerful feeling, but it’s more than just that. I genuinely want to help her; she’s Matt’s blood, his baby, and by taking care of Brett, I know I’m also taking care of Matt.
“That’s the scariest part, in my opinion,” Jess explained.
“What?”
“You’re getting attached to his daughter.”
“I know. I never even considered that something like that could happen.”
“But she’s not yours, Taylor. Not even a little bit. I know you want to help her, but this isn’t like those kids at the center. She has parents.”
“So do they,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s different. You’re not trying to bring them home with you like a lost puppy or something.”
“I just feel a connection with her. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you kidding? I understand completely. The connection you feel is that Matt and Brett look like a little family with a missing piece, and you think you fit into that spot. But that spot’s not actually empty. It’s reserved, Taylor. That spot will always belong to Leyla.”
Well, not today, I thought. Today she’s still in California doing God knows what. But I’m here! Because, especially now, time with this man is a precious gift and she chose to give it up. She chose to leave, just like I chose to come back.
Which is why I'm seizing the spring weather and Matt’s (relatively) good health and keeping a promise to Brett. Today, we're all going out to Sound Hollow.
I know that at this time of year there won’t be anyone there except for the facilities manager, who lives at the Gate House.
Since nothing ever changes at camp, I fully expect the gates to be wide open, the visitor’s book at the office to be tucked off to the side of the main desk, and the whole place to look and smell old, musty, and full of nostalgia, exactly as I left it seven years ago.
On the ride out, Matt and I compile a list of places and things we want to show Brett.
I have to resist the urge to hold Matt’s hand in the car as we share stories of our childhood.
The ride takes over an hour, but Brett’s excited, so she doesn’t whine.
She listens mostly, asks some questions, and quietly looks out the window.
As we get closer, I try to tune the radio to STAR 99.
9—a station from across the Long Island Sound in Connecticut—but I can’t pick up a frequency, so we talk instead.
We drive to the end of the Long Island Expressway, and then, remembering the route as if I drove it just yesterday, I navigate past a slew of outlet malls and car dealerships onto roads bordered by empty fields almost ready for the planting season, big red barns, and the occasional shell of a farm stand.
Brett lights up when she sees a horse grazing.
“So, you guys had real animals on your farm?” she asks eagerly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Matt replies. “We had chickens, pigs, cows—”
“Bunnies,” I interrupt, “goats, farm cats—”
“And that one sad looking sheep.” Matt laughs.
“Oh my God! Remember it? It was so fat! And always alone! Poor thing was so depressing to look at.”
“It was a girl, not an it. Her name was Sheila,” Matt remembers.
“How do you remember that?” I wonder aloud.
“I want to see Sheila!” Brett exclaims.
“I wonder if my barn kitten is still alive,” I add.
“And you grew, like, actual food?” Brett wonders.
“Yeah. All those veggies you never eat,” Matt says.
“Daddy! I do so eat vegetables!”
“Potato chips are not a vegetable,” he smiles.
“Yes they are! Potatoes grow in the ground, so, you’re wrong.” She folds her arms, triumphant.
“Okay, Sass McGee. I stand corrected. Yes, we grew potato chips on our farm. The sour cream and onion ones were particularly healthy,” he jokes.
As I make the turn onto the road leading to camp, my heart pounds with anticipation. Brett goes on about the beach, wondering aloud how a beach and a forest could be in the same place, when I pull into the driveway on girls’ side.
“What the hell?” Matt shakes his head. “Sorry, baby,” he says to Brett, referring to the swear word, an afterthought that is the least of my concern.
A thick chain holds the metal gates closed.
In the far distance, I can see the camp rocks.
I scan the area and notice the other thing that’s wrong about the scene.
A wooden post has been hammered into the dirt ground a few feet past where I turned.
From the post, a shingle hangs. Compared to the vast entrance, the sign is small, but its words are earth-shattering.
“Oh, my God,” I murmur. “Matt, look.” I point.
I scan the capital blue letters twice to make sure I’m not mistaken.
Two small words with massive implications.
For Sale, it reads.