“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m . . .” I can’t finish because a piece of feeling has gone and gotten stuck in my throat.
“It’s okay, I know.” Dr. Dave scoots that goddamn Kleenex box toward me on the table. When I glare at him, I find him holding in a laugh.
“Yeah, laugh at the poor messed-up kid. That’s really cool.” I take the box and toss it at him.
He laughs out loud, and I do too.
“Did you think about what I said? About continuing our meetings via FaceTime?”
I nod. “Yeah. I can’t really afford it, though. Henry and Kelly have been awesome about helping me continue coming since my birthday, but I can’t ask that of them once I’m gone.” Social Services decided that on my eighteenth birthday, whether my treatment was over or not, I was done. I was an adult and if I wanted to follow in my mother’s footsteps, I was no longer their problem.
“Here’s what I want to do, then.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “You have my number and my e-mail. Use them. I would like you to check in whenever you feel like you need to talk. Or even if you just want to talk. I expect to hear how Stanford is all you hoped it would be and all that clichéd crap.”
I crack a smile. “Doc, I hope you know what a can of worms you’re opening. You might seriously reconsider when I start drunk-dialing you.”
“I’m okay with the occasional drunk-dial.”
“Occasional? We’ll see about that.” I want to tell him how much his offer means to me, but I just can’t. He knows. I know he knows.
“And you’ll be back for the holidays. We can work something out.”
I return my focus to the coffee table.
“Oh.” He gets it. “Do Kelly and Henry know?”
“I think Henry suspects. Kelly, no, I don’t think so.”
“And Jordyn?”
I swallow. “I can’t really tell.”
“You haven’t talked about it with her? Has she brought it up?”
I shake my head. “You think I’m an idiot for not having discussed it with her, don’t you?”
“I think you’re chicken-shit. And human.”
“I can live with that.” I smile and nod. “Do you think I’m being stupid about . . . ?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. It’s understandable to want to put some distance between you and this place with all these memories. Healthy even.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll change my mind. Maybe I’ll actually miss it here.”
“Maybe. And you know what? That’s okay too.”
? ? ?
It’s a slow weekend, so Henry gives Jordyn and me the day off. When I get back from Dr. Dave’s, I pack a cooler and wait with Captain on the front steps for her to get back from the mall with Kelly.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“We’re going for a run.” I smile.
“Cool. Let me change.” She disappears for a few minutes and reappears in shorts and a sports bra.
I place the cooler in the trunk. “You’re seriously going to run?”
“I’m probably going to die, but I’m going to try my best.”
I laugh as I get into the car. “You know I’d never make you run. Unless you wanted to.”
“I know. Figured I’d just play along. So where are we really going?”
I drive us to my favorite running path in the foothills near Red Rocks. The path I used to hike with Mom. The path with the perfect little picnic spot.
“Maybe if you carry the cooler, I’d be able to jog. For a bit anyway,” Jordyn says, letting Captain out of the backseat.
“Doubt it.”
She smacks me on the arm.
Poor Captain keeps doubling back as we hike, trying to get us to move faster. I would normally love to push myself on my favorite path one last time, but today slow feels right.
At just past the halfway point, we reach the long, flat rock, next to the single tree. The sun’s even cooperated, remaining behind the tree so we have some shade. I pull out a container of leftovers from Kelly’s amazing dinner last night, a couple Cokes, some silverware. Then I pull out the water dish and a treat for Captain.
“It’s so beautiful,” she says, admiring the side-swept rock formations about fifty yards away.
“It is,” I say, admiring her.
“I can see why you like it here. You going to miss it?”
“More than you know.” I’m not talking about the trail.
I shift my focus to the view just as she turns to face me. I’m not sure whether or not she understood that little exchange. She doesn’t acknowledge anything other than our meal. And a fine meal it is. Kelly made one of her signatures last night: steak salad. How is a steak salad so special? I have no idea. But I swear to god it’s life-changing.
“It’s awfully claustrophobic for being outdoors,” Jordyn says, running her fingers through Captain’s fur.
I meet her eyes. She looks sad.
“I think we’ve avoided the elephant for long enough, don’t you?” she says softly.
I nod.
“Neither one of us is stupid enough to think we could actually make a long-distance relationship work.” She squints up at me, eyes shiny.
“I know.” I scoot over so I’m close enough to touch her. “I love you more than . . .” I give up.