Yuki nods. “I remember.”
“I thought about it,” I say, staring down at my phone again, holding it tight. “I think it’s obvious what it means now. It means I have to stop thinking about him. That I have to let him go and move on with my life.” I let out a deep breath. “I wish it was easier for me.”
Yuki looks away, as if taking this in. After a moment, she says, “You know, I don’t think you could let Sam go. Even if you really wanted to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess what I mean is, Sam is still very much a part of your life, isn’t he?” she says. “He might be physically gone, but you will always carry a piece of him with you. I know your time with Sam was much shorter than you wanted it to be, but that time together isn’t something you can give back. Letting go isn’t about forgetting. It’s balancing moving forward with life, and looking back from time to time, remembering the people in it.”
I stare out at the water again, thinking. If only she understood how different it is for me. I’m the only one who will have to lose him twice.
Yuki touches my hand. “I know this is still hard for you. But I’m glad you decided to come today. I’m glad we’re spending time together again.”
I smile. “I’m glad, too.”
Someone whistles to our left, and we both look up from the bench. Jay and Oliver are standing against the rail of the boardwalk, holding churros. The two of them have been inseparable lately. I sense some sparks between them.
Oliver waves at us. “We got churros!”
“Come back up!” Jay shouts over. “There are sea lions.”
Yuki and I exchange smirks.
“You know, I really like those two together,” Yuki says.
“I really do, too.”
As the sky finally clears, we spend the rest of the day on the waterfront. After lunch and some candle shopping, we head to the aquarium to look for otters, because they’re Oliver’s favorite animal. Jay suggests we buy matching hats to commemorate the trip, and we wear them during our stroll through the sculpture park. Since it’s too late to ride the ferry, we head over to Pier 57 and take a ride on the Ferris wheel. When I look out at our view from two hundred feet in the air, I think of Sam, and the memory of us at the fair fills me with warmth.
* * *
As the others head back home that night, I decide to stay in Seattle to spend the rest of the weekend with my dad. He’s been asking me for weeks to come visit him. The second he steps out of his car to pick me up, my eyes start watering. I forgot how much I missed him. He’s always known how to make things better without needing to ask what’s wrong. He even called my mom, asking if I could skip school so we can spend another day together. We do all my favorite things—have pancakes at the diner in Portage Bay where we used to live, drink pour-over coffee in Pioneer Square, and visit my favorite bookstores on 10th Avenue. Being away from Ellensburg was exactly what I needed after all. I still think about Sam from time to time, but the memories are fond, letting me breathe easier. Even though he isn’t here, I still see him everywhere. And for the first time, the thought of this brings me comfort.
* * *
I arrive at the bus station late Monday afternoon. My mom is still teaching a class at the university, so I have to wait a few hours before she can pick me up. I rest my bag on the floor and check my phone. Now that I’m back in Ellensburg, my calls with Sam should be working again. It’s been ten days since we last spoke. It’s the longest I haven’t heard from him since he first picked up the phone. Ever since our connection broke, Sam and I have been planning our calls several days in advance, one call at a time. Our next one happens to be today. I have the date marked down in my notebook. I was going to wait until I was back in my room, but after being away so long, I can’t wait to hear from him again.
There’s a new notification on my phone. An email from a name that sounds familiar. I open the email and read it first.
Dear Julie, Apologies it took so long to get back to you. Spent the morning listening to the songs you sent me. I have to be honest with you. A few of the tracks were fantastic. Sam was a talented musician. He really knew his way around a melody. That’s a gift that’s hard to come by. And I wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true. He was really something special. Again, I’m sorry to hear what happened. A very sad loss.
Anyway, I went ahead and forwarded your email to Gary and a few others from the band (since I know you two are big fans). Hope you don’t mind. I’ll let you know if they get back to me. They’re gonna love knowing you all came from the same hometown.
Hope things stay well. Feel free to reach out anytime.
Take care,