|photo by Beth Desrosiers from Unsplash|
Monty runs ahead of me, barking a reprimand at a Blue Heron that has the audacity to stalk fish from the grassy edge of our shoreline. The bird makes a graceful exit. Monty charges into the lake anyway. He swims a circle, lapping up water, before he joins me on the dock.
I sit on the warm wood, ease my legs into the water and check out Zachary's Instagram.
It's seriously impressive. The photos have sort of a college-life appeal and are mostly candids. There's none of that trying-too-hard vibe you see on some school websites.
Megan's right. I'd be an idiot not to go there.
It'd be a no-brainer if I could take her with me.
Monty's happy tail slaps against the weathered dock a few times before the vibration of Glenn's footsteps registers under my bottom. He lowers himself beside me, gives me a quick kiss before he takes off his shoes and drops his legs in the water beside mine, keeping his gaze fixed on the marsh across the lake.
He looks terrible. "Did you sleep?" I ask.
"Not much. Did you talk to your parents?"
"I listened."
He scratches his neck. In the sunlight, the stubble on his chin has a ginger cast. "Officially, it's my decision," I say. "But I think that's just—"
"You should go."
"Go?"
Glenn doesn't answer. I lay my hand on his cheek, urging him to face me. "You think I should go to New York City?"
He takes my hand, sandwiches it between his. "They have three college level math courses. It's a great school, Thea."
Now it's my turn to stare at the marsh, at wiry grass still bowing to winds that are long gone. What are the odds of a tornado destroying a person's school? I bet some people pray for that sort of thing. People right here in Haddock, even.
"You like New York," he says.
"I like to visit. I don't want to live there."
"So think of it as an extended visit. Nine months and you're back home."
"Did you talk to my dad?"
Glenn huffs a laugh and shakes his head. No, they just think alike.
I pull my feet out of the water and drape my wet legs across his lap. He trails his fingertips down my shinbone. "Let's say I agreed to this," I say. "If we're going to be a long distance couple you have to talk to me. Every day. On the phone."
"I've been thinking about that—and not just today. Helen is right to want to put distance between us."
"Please tell me you're kidding," I say.
He presses his lips together. Shit, he's not.
"No, Glenn. Helen is not right. Not about this."
"What if she is?" he asks, holding up a hand like he's trying to fend off my answer. "I took my mom's advice four years ago and it was the smartest thing I've ever done."
"What advice?"
"She told me you were too young for me. It pissed me off at first—I told her she was an idiot—but then after I calmed down..."
"Glenn Nash," I interrupt. "Tell me you did not call your adorable mother an idiot."
"I was fifteen. I was a dumbass."
I shake my head but the reproach is weak. Inside, there's another happy dance going on. Glenn rarely opens up like this.
"She didn't get mad," he says. "Just laughed at me—which pissed me off even more."
"So that's why you dumped me?"
"It wasn't like that, Thea. I was listening to my mom. She told me I couldn't have picked a sweeter soul to fall in love with and that scared the shit out of me because I hadn't thought of us like that. I just knew we belonged to each other."
"So you dumped me because you were scared?"
"Are you going to let me finish my story?"
"Sorry." I grimace a grin. "I've never heard you talk this much before."
"Well. This is important, so be serious."
Glenn's tone is so serious the back of my neck prickles.
"After that," he says, "I was subjected to the most embarrassing mother-son conversation of my life. The short of it is that she advised me to give you time to become a woman and give myself time to uh..." He mumble-coughs the last part.
"Time to what?"
"Get over being a dumbass."
"A horny dumbass?"
"I could have ruined us, Thea. Maybe I already have. I was supposed to wait until you were sixteen before I asked you out again, but the second you showed interest in another guy, I caved. This isn't the first time I've asked myself what might've happened if I'd stayed away from you."
"Nothing would've happened," I say, pulling my legs off him. "I've never been interested in another guy."
"That's not what it looked like to me. Remember the Founder's Day parade—right before you turned fifteen? You were flirting with that rich kid who goes to your school."
I stand, shaking my head. "You really are a dumbass, Glenn Nash. The only reason I talked to Justin was because you were across the street with your arm wrapped around some girl from Haddock High. Remember?"
"Yeah," he says, lifting himself to his feet like he's ninety instead of nineteen.
"I wanted you to feel what I was feeling. That is the one and only reason I walked over to Justin. And I've never been sorry that my plan worked."
I reach for the heart-shaped pendant that rests just below the hollow in my throat. It was supposed to be a gift for my sixteenth birthday but Glenn said he couldn't wait anymore, so I got it six months early, with a promise that our separation was over. Permanently.
"Okay," he says, "But what happens if we get married and then after a few years, you start to wonder what you missed?"
"I won't—god, why doesn't anyone believe that I know what I want? Maybe you needed to sow your proverbial oats, but I don't, Glenn. I want to live on this farm—or any farm—with you, for the rest of my life."
"You want more than that, Thea. You want rocket science."
"I'll have that, too. Langley is only a thirty-minute commute. We can both get what we want."
He closes his eyes tight for a minute and when he opens them, they're cold and narrow. "Real life doesn't always play out like it does in your dreams."
"I thought it was our dream."
"It was before my dad got sick. Now I have all of his responsibilities. I had no business even thinking I could sneak off with you this morning. I can't let myself get distracted like that anymore."
"So I'm a distraction—that's why you want me to go?"
"That's part of it, yeah. But the biggest part is you. You're the smartest person I've ever known, Thea, and this school could really challenge you. I don't want to distract you from the future you deserve."
"I can go to Zachary and still have the future we want. I haven't given up on our plan. Your dad is going to get better, and when that happens, you can go back to school."
"That's not what I want anymore," he says, but the lie is so obvious. He's forcing himself to keep his eyes on mine, scraping the side of his thumb with his index finger. "You need to make a plan that doesn't include me."
My eyes sting and my hand jumps up to cover my mouth. The actions are involuntary. My body is gearing up for a very undignified crying jag—which is ridiculous, because I know what Glenn's trying to do. I'm the idiot who put the idea in his head when I suggested staging a break-up to get Helen off our backs.
"I'm sorry," he says. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. But...my mom's always saying things happen for a reason. She said that about Dad getting sick—and now there's the tornado and your aunt getting you into Zachary."
Glenn lifts his hands to my face, glides his thumbs under my eyes. "You know this isn't easy for me, right?"
"Then stop acting like this is over. It's nine months, like you said. I won't be here to distract you—and I guess you wouldn't have to call me every day. When I come back, we'll pick up where we left off."
Glenn shakes his head. "I'm still breaking up with you."
"Yeah, right."
"I'm not kidding, Thea. If you meet someone in New York, you should..."
Ha. He can't even say the words. "You're delirious, Glenn. Go home and sleep."
His shoulders sag with a weighted sigh. And finally, he nods. But I don't like the way the skin crinkles around his eyes. I can't decide if it's exhaustion or determination.
I take a step, lean into his chest and he kisses the top of my head. But I need more than that. I tilt my head back, daring him not to respond to the invitation.
Glenn doesn't even hesitate. He bends down to kiss me, soft at first, but then his arms are around me and and I'm pushing against his chest because it feels like goodbye—and I don't care what he says, I'm not agreeing to that.
"We'll finish this conversation tomorrow," I say, pointing at his house.
When he steps off the dock I send Megan a text: It unfolded like that freaking tornado did on Mason. I'm not ready to face my parents. Can you come get me?
Meet me at the end of your driveway.
* * *
Megan waves me on impatiently as I walk around to the passenger side. I pull hard on the dented door's handle. When it gives, it's with the familiar metallic groan, an eternal reprimand for an incident involving one too many beers and a very large tree.
"We're going for ice," she says, after I slide onto the vinyl seat. "Any objections?"
Her eyebrows are high, challenging. If I had any objections to driving God-only-knows-how-far to find an overpriced bag of ice, I'd be keeping them to myself.
Besides, I called for the rescue. Beggars can't be choosers.
I shake my head, give the cranky door a firm tug and Megan punches the gas pedal hard enough to make her back tires spinout in the gravel.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.
She cuts her eyes in my direction—not quite making contact—and shakes her head. Pretty much the only thing Megan won't talk about is her parents. Which means they're arguing again.
"What happened with Glenn?" she asks.
"He said if I go, he's going to break up with me so I can date other people."
Megan stops in the middle of the road, jaw slack. "Was he serious?"
"He was."
"Well, that's unexpected."
I nod my agreement and tell her the long version as she lets the car creep around a curve she normally takes ten miles over the speed limit. "He has a point," she says when I finish.
"Well thanks for your input, Helen, but I don't think he'll go through with it. Glenn doesn't want to break up with me. He's only saying that because he really thinks I should go to Zachary. My dad does too—and Helen practically dared me to say no. Is it so bad that I don't want things to change?"
"In what way do you mean that though, because obviously our school is gone. Things have definitely changed."
"Helen thinks I'm afraid to leave Virginia."
"Helen's afraid she made you that way," Megan corrects.
"She did. But that was ten year old me. Now I'd have no problem moving to New York."
I let the statement hang out there for a moment—to see if it feels true.
It doesn't. Not entirely.
"But it's only temporary," I say. "A nine month detour. I'll just keep my head down and get my work done—and when I come back, Helen will have to respect my decision to go to Virginia Tech. I'll have a diploma that proves I'm not afraid to leave home."
"Mother of shit," Megan says, pounding the steering wheel on the last word.
"What?"
"You sound like your mind's made up—and that's great, Thea. I think you should go. But damn, girl. I'm really going to miss you."