He stared at me for a few moments before reaching out to me. I collapsed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tightly for a while, his lips pressed against my ear. “You’ve got to do what your heart tells you, okay? There’s no point in us going through with this if you’re just going to keep looking back.”
“I thought I’d let it go,” I whispered. “I really did, Gabe.”
“I thought so too,” said Gabe. “But we know differently now.”
“God, I’m going to miss you.”
He pulled away and smiled. “Well, maybe we’ll run into each other again. Stranger things have happened.”
“We’ll keep in touch, won’t we?”
He shook his head. “I think it’s best we just leave it here for now. I don’t think I can do the friend thing. Not with you.”
“But what if I need you?”
“You can always find me, if you really have to. It’s the twenty-first century, after all.”
“Okay.”
“You take care of yourself, Audrey.”
“So this is it? We’re saying goodbye?” I felt a wave of panic and realized how much I had come to depend on him. It was hard to believe it was only yesterday we were planning our trip, blissfully unaware of what lay ahead.
He nodded. “This is goodbye.”
I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his cheek. “You’re my angel, you know,” I whispered. I didn’t want to let him go.
He gently pulled my arms free and stepped back. He looked down at me and grinned his good-natured grin. “You’re going to be okay, Audrey. You don’t need anybody anymore. Remember that.”
Then just as swiftly as he appeared in my life, he was gone. I stood on the sidewalk and watched as the station wagon turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared. I stood there for a long time in the dying light, a dull thudding in my chest and the feeling I was more alone than I had ever been.
Two
Candela’s nuptials felt more like a small house party than a wedding. It was held in the tiny garden of her duplex in Chippendale. Eve was her maid of honor, and Lucy and I were the bridesmaids. The whole ceremony had a casual, laid-back vibe to it.
Dirk and Candela looked very much the picture of young love. To see them each glowing with health and happiness gave me a wonderful sense of optimism.
Lucy and Candela had been waiting for me when I walked through the arrival gate in Sydney a week earlier. Candela held up her two fingers in a peace sign when she caught sight of me from a distance. I grinned broadly when I saw it. Since we were kids, we’d hold our fingers in the same way when we wanted to make a show of peace. I felt a wave of affection wash over me, despite the ugliness of our last parting. There are some friendships that weather the greatest storms, and I knew the one I shared with Lucy and Candela could make it through anything.
Now the three of us were sitting cross-legged on the soft lawn under a lemon tree. Candela was still in her wedding dress, a simple white satin garment with lace trim. Intricate patterns were inked in henna on her hands and wrists. Lucy and I were in matching blue linen dresses we’d picked up just the day before on a last-minute shopping stint.
Dirk was in the shed with the door rolled up, showing his latest work to his friends who stood around, beers in hand, nodding with appreciation.
“I know whom you’re hoping to see,” said Candela, as she caught me surveying the guests. She and Lucy exchanged a meaningful glance. “But he’s not here.”
They both knew Rad was a sore spot for me, and with all the last-minute wedding preparations, I didn’t get a chance to bring him up. “How is he?” I asked, trying to sound impassive.
Lucy gave a long sigh. “I didn’t want to worry you,” she said, “but it’s not good, Audrey. I ran into him one day.” She tilted her head to one side and chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “About five months after you left, maybe? He had no idea you had gone to Colorado. I think he had tried calling you, but, of course, you changed your number. Anyway, he was just heading home from some big meeting that didn’t go down well. I’m not sure what happened after that, but he turned up at Freddy’s a couple of weeks later and asked Freddy if he would look after his MacBook and a few other things. After a month or so, we got a postcard from someplace up north called Bell Rock Trailer Park, and no one has heard from him since.”
“What did the postcard say?” This news about Rad was the last thing I expected to hear. Why would he be at a trailer park? Why did he leave his MacBook with Freddy? His whole life was on that thing.
“The postcard just said, ‘Having a great time, wish you were here.’”
I smiled inwardly. It sounded so like Rad—the wry, sarcastic humor I adored. I pictured him with pen poised over the postcard, writing that tired cliché with a smirk, and my heart gave an involuntary flutter.
“So no one has heard from him since?”
“Nope.”
“Well, how do you know he’s still there?”
“We don’t.”
“He didn’t leave a number?”
Lucy shook her head. “We still have the postcard, though. His address is on it. Maybe you can write to him there.”
Three
I pulled into Bell Rock Trailer Park and found a space under a large tree. I turned off the engine and sat there chewing thoughtfully on the tip of my thumb. When I told Lucy I was going to set out on this wild goose chase, she said, “Take Octopus One!” She offered to come with me, but I wanted to do it on my own.
I had no idea whether Rad was still here—there wasn’t a number listed for the trailer park, and they didn’t even have a website. I figured if he had left, someone there might know where he went.
After a few more minutes of staring into space, I snapped into action. Opening the car door, I stepped out into the warm summer day. I was hit with a dose of cool, salty air, and it felt good in my lungs. I caught a glimpse of the sea just beyond the group of trailers parked haphazardly across the rolling lawn. There was barely a week of summer left, and the weather was starting to turn. I walked up a bumpy asphalt path littered with dry white sand toward a small wood building. It was red and white, with the paint chipping away along the slats and window frames.
I pushed through the door and walked into the air-conditioned cool inside. Two wildly excited black and tan Chihuahuas greeted me—their little tails wagging furiously between sharp, intermittent yelps. “Gin! Tonic! Stop harassing the nice lady,” said a throaty voice. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I saw an old woman with wiry gray hair sitting behind a counter. She stood up, revealing a purple gypsy dress decorated with mystic symbols. “Hello, dear,” she purred, looking me over. “I’m Maud, the owner. Are you after a trailer?”