Natalie
I laughed and talked with Tim over lunch at La Cocina the next day. “God, it’s been forever since I’ve had good Mexican food,” I moaned.
I looked up to find him staring at me while the bite of food he’d just put on his fork fell back to his plate.
I waved a hand in front of his face. “What is wrong with you?”
He stared at me a second longer before seeming to snap out of it. “Nothing. Sorry.
He then regaled me with funny stories from the past year. I was still recovering from him telling me he fell down in front of a bunch of cute sorority girls when the server came to refill our drinks.
Our laughter faded and there was a lull in the conversation. I had told myself before coming out with him today that I wasn’t going to ask why he never came to see me in France. But I couldn’t restrain myself.
“Why didn’t you visit me?” I blurted.
He looked away, but not before I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes. “Tech is hard. Especially the first year. You know that.”
I studied him. “And the breaks? Were you studying during the six weeks you were off for the holidays when you had no classes?”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “No, Nat. I wasn’t. Look,” he finally looked up at me, “I never got over you leaving. I know it sucks, and I’m selfish, and all of that, but it’s true. We had it all planned out foryears. I’d go to Tech and you’d go to Emory, and we’d hang out all the time. Then you chose to just… leave. You didn’t even give me any real warning. It hurt my feelings and made me feel—I don’t know. Like I didn’t matter, I guess. Like I wasn’t important enough for you to let me in on the decision.”
I stared at him. “You thought I needed your approval to go visit my dead mother’s twin sister after I found out my dad had been sabotaging any attempts at a relationship with her since I was ten?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “God. I suck. I’m sorry, Nat. It was… incredibly selfish of me. It was. I knew it at the time, but I pushed it down and refused to admit it, even to myself. I was an idiot. Can you forgive me?”
I met his eyes. We’d been through everything together. Of course I would forgive him. That was never in question. “It was your loss, dumbass. You missed what could have been one of the best experiences of your life because you had ‘hurt feelings.’ The Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, random bookstores and boulangeries, the Champs de Elysee, the fucking food and wine.” I tossed my hands in the air. “It was amazing! And I wanted to share it with you, my best friend. But I didn’t get to, and that sucks.”
He shook his head, obviously contrite. “I wish I could have a do-over.”
I looked at him, a smile I could no longer hide playing over my lips. “Well, you can’t have a do-over, exactly, but Sabine invited me for the entire Christmas holiday—all six weeks of it—and said I could bring you with me.”
His head shot up. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “And she has a bajillion points saved for frequent flyer miles because of her job. We can go for free, basically. Paris for Christmas. What do you say?”
“Yes!” He looked relieved. “I say yes.”
I chomped down on a churro. “Good. I want to introduce you to all my friends.” I looked down at the Cartier watch Jacques gave me.
“Who gave you that watch?” He knew it was an expensive gift. I’d seen him eyeing it. “Sabine?”
I shook my head. “Jacques,” I said simply.
He frowned. “Who the hell is Jacques?”
I smiled. “You’ll meet him, too. Don’t worry.”
We spent the rest of lunch talking about all our experiences over the past year while we’d been apart.
***
My father only stuck around for a couple of days after my return from France. I woke up one morning to an empty house and found a note on the kitchen counter telling me he had to go out of town for work unexpectedly. He informed me that he didn’t expect to return before the end of the summer.
It was the first week of June.
I knew the truth. He couldn’t stand to look at me. I reminded him too much of my mother. So, after being apart for an entire year, I’d only been around him for a handful of hours before he’d been ready for me to leave again. He knew that wasn’t going to happen, so he chose to leave instead.
I made myself some toast and ate alone at the table. I sat there long after I’d finished, just thinking over my options. It was too late to start summer school at Emory. I wondered if I could get a job or if all the part-time summer work had been snatched up in town. That tended to happen in a town the size of Indigo Falls.
