The kids are ecstatic when I dig out their treats; chocolate frogs, bags of chips, refrigerator magnets, keychains, and aLittle Mermaidfor Emma, identical to the one Eli gave me but smaller. I also give Emma the colorful purse. For Theo, I have the toy car and the old watch I bought in Christiania. John gets the flask and a small Daim chocolate bar.
I save the best for last. They go kind of crazy when I pull out the giant Daim bar. “Sorry, the wrapping’s a little ruined… I got caught in the rain.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair,” John jokes. “They get the big one, and I get this tiny one.”
I reach for the chocolate bar, and swipe it out of his hand. “Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll have it.”
He laughs as he fights me for it. It’s a bit of a struggle, but he gets it back. Then, he surprises me with another kiss on the cheek.
I sleep in the guest room. I tell John I’m exhausted, and want a good night’s sleep.
* * *
Corrie is actually early today, arrived here even before I did — I’m typically the first one here. “Dish, girl,” she quips. I bet it’s because she’s itching to get all the juicy details about my trip. In her defense, I haven’t given her much via text.
I can’t help but smile. They’re all sitting around me, eagerly anticipating my words. I tell them about everything, show them all my pictures. They don’t seem to care about the gorgeous buildings and boats of Nyhavn, or the twinkling lights of Tivoli Gardens. They drool over photos of Eli, and awe over photos of Floyd. Their mouths water over the food selfies I took every night at dinner. When I tell them that Eli cooked all those delicious looking meals, Corrie trills, “That’s it. You need to move over there with him,” she says. “Bring the kids. John? John who?”
The girls laugh but I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’m putting on a brave face, but they have no idea how hard this is for me. The pictures don’t convey how close Eli and I got. We got under each other’s skin, and that doesn’t just go away. So as much as I tell them the sex was great, they’ll never understand that it was so much more.
“So about the sex,” Kayla says with a smirk. “Can you elaborate a bit more?”
I laugh. “God, I want to so badly, Kayla, but I don’t think it would be fair to Eli.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Corrie breaks in. “He won’t know. He’s all the way in Denmark. You’ll never see him again. Don’t leave us hanging, girl.”
I smirk. “Sorry… I can’t.”
Maeve chimes in. “Let it go,” she says to Corrie. “I think it’s disrespectful to Eli to talk about it.”
Corrie rolls her eyes. “Yes, Mother Teresa.”
“Just tell us this,” Kayla asks. “Was it romantic, or dirty?”
I shake my head — they just won’t let this go. A playful smile traces my lips and I feel myself blush. “Both.”
“Was he kinky?” Corrie asks. “I love kinky men.”
I smile. “Well, that’s nice to know, Corrie, but… I’m not saying anymore.”
“Okay, last question,” she says. “How many times?”
I smile wide. “I… I don’t know. I lost count.”
They all cheer and hoot, even Maeve. The customers sitting next to us shift their heads, and I turn crimson.
* * *
The first week back home is fine. It doesn’t hit me straight away.
This is the end of a chapter, as Eli said, and I’ve turned the page. It wouldn’t be fair to John and the kids to dwell on the past, to dwell on Eli and not give them my full attention. I’m busy with the usual routine and catching up with laundry and cleaning. The refrigerator is almost bare, and I replenish it. I bake muffins and make bread. I try not to think about Eli, but he creeps up in my brain at the oddest times. I tell myself that if I keep busy, I won’t think about him too much.
I can’t hang the elephant painting in my studio — it hurts too much. Nor can I put the paperweight or the little mermaid on my desk, as I’d planned. I hide the painting in the storage closet in my loft, and I store the mermaid and paperweight in a box, and keep it next to the painting. They’ll always be there… memories that I can’t handle. Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to look at them again, and not hurt.
I copy all the trip photos onto a USB storage key, and store it safely in a box on my bookshelf. There’s always the cloud too — they’ll live there forever. It hurts when I erase all the photos from my phone, but I know that if I don’t do it, I’ll be too tempted to look at them, and I’ll never move on, never forget him.
* * *
“Tonight, it’s just the two of us,” John says. He raises his glass of wine. “To us.”
