Smiling was easy around Rebecca. Making promises was even easier. She often used my house to escape her mother, and it became a regular thing finding her at the plantation in the afternoons. So, when graduation day arrived, and I woke up that morning to find her car gone from the drive, I suddenly felt sad.
Tears threatened, but I held them back and went through the motions. There was no coffee downstairs, no comforting smell of chicory, no family anticipations. Just me, my dress pants, my red shirt, and the promise of a new tomorrow. No one expected anything of me, so I had to expect it of myself.
Grabbing my uncle’s car keys, I paused at the door, glancing over my shoulder at the kitchen.
“For your sake, Uncle Gregor,” I said.
With that, I pulled the door open and walked out into the May humidity, the sun breaking through the trees. Birds flew, diving and rising, their calls loud in the still morning. Across a field, buzzards circled. It brought to mind the Native American story Gregor had told me. No matter what you think of a creature, how ugly and terrible it seems, there’s always something worth remembering about it.
“Keep doing what you do,” I called out to the buzzards. I was getting good at talking to myself.
I’d just closed the door behind me when I stumbled, my hands catching me before I fell. Glancing down, I gasped, my eyes widening. On the stoop sat Heathcliff’s shoes, blue marker marring the side. Keep me, they said.
Leaning down, I lifted them, capturing them against my chest, tears pricking my eyes. He’d kept his promise. He may be leaving, but he wasn’t taking his old shoes with him.
Re-opening the door, I placed the sneakers inside the foyer before heading to the car, my steps light despite my breaking heart. Uncle Gregor’s words swirled in my head. Sometimes love isn’t forever. Sometimes it’s just moments in your life that teach you. If it’s the forever after kind of love, it’ll find you again. If it isn’t, don’t let a broken heart break you. Let it make you love harder. Love is a mistake worth making.
Those words followed me down the drive as I drove to school for the final time. They followed me to the fold out chairs sitting before the stage in the school gym. They followed me through two speeches, three songs, and the moment when I accepted my diploma. They rang through my head as I threw my hat into the air, the room filling with flying black caps, the tassels hanging. Cheers, laughter, and clapping surrounded me. Even with Uncle Gregor gone, it was nice.
There was no reason to stay when the ceremony ended, but when I started to make my way through the crowd to my car, I was stopped by a pair of new shoes. These shoes were the same brand as the old shoes that came before them, as if the idea of getting a different pair had never crossed the owner’s mind.
“Clare—” Heathcliff’s voice began.
His tone was flooded with misgiving, and I glanced up at his face, my hand coming up to cover his mouth.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t start having doubts now. My wish for you is that your path leads you to an amazing place. I want it to take you to amazing possibilities and brilliant sunsets. I want it to take you to the moon and back. I want your life to be exactly how you always saw it. Don’t look back, Max Vincent.”
I removed my hand, and Heathcliff stared at me. He’d gotten his hair shaved since the last time I saw him. It was odd seeing him that way, but it didn’t take away from his appearance. If anything, it accentuated his face, making his cheekbones sharper, his eyes bigger.
“You know,” he finally said, “I never told you something, and I just don’t feel right leaving without it being said.” He leaned close. “I loved you, Clare. Truth be told, I still do.”
I smiled. “I know. You showed me you did. I just don’t want you to stay, and then have you realize later that it wasn’t enough. Be happy, Max. That’s what I want.”
His grin met mine. “I want the same for you. Be that philosophical chef I know you’re going to be.”
His arms suddenly found my waist, pulling me into a suffocating embrace before letting go, his lips brushing my forehead. Our hands met, clasped, and then released each other.
There weren’t any more words after that, and he turned to walk away. My eyes watched his feet.
“Wait!” I called out abruptly. Max paused, and I stepped forward. “Just remember something, would you? Don’t forget who you are.”
He smiled. “I won’t. And, Hawthorne, check your seat before you sit in your car.”
He continued onward, the crowd swallowing him. For a moment, I stared after his disappearing shoes before throwing myself into the mass of people, nudging my way to the parking lot. We hadn’t been a big graduating class, but where the town was small the families were big, and I was chased to the car by flashing cameras and quick protests.