“Let’s deliberately decide to stay friends,” he suddenly proposes.
A proposal that sounds really good to me.
“Let’s stay friends,” I say, and he curves his lips up.“I’ll be one phone call away if you need me.We can update each other on life resolutions, and not justdisappear.”
He stretches out his arm to shake my hand, but then slowly moves closer to me and wraps me in a quick, tight hug.
We leave Miss Amara’s front door.
I’ll be back tomorrow.But Miles knows that this house won’t look the same when, and if, he returns.So, he lingers, staring through the window from the outside in, taking a mental picture of the place as we once knew it, still unchanged in shape, but no longer held by her presence.
I watch him do it and give him the time he needs.His eyes wander over the exterior of the house.He’s tucking it away dearly in a drawer of his heart.
Chapter 56
Ella
April 21st, 2009
Tuesday
A lot of work was done in two weeks.Objects, clothes, furniture, and other items had been packed and transported to where they were needed.The domestic appliances were last.I spent this morning at the CIC helping to place the fridge in the cafeteria, where it’s in high demand.
Every day, there were more than enough hands to help with everything.I had forgotten about this sense of community.Living in community, being in community, feeling in community.Exchanging solitude for sharing.In Evermere, you can often see how “sharing company” is enough to make someone feel whole.
I look around the CIC’s garden and see a group of individuals who, in their very different individualities, have crossed paths.
And when they crossed paths, they found themselves partly mirrored in each other.
They share appetizers.They share stories.
Beers are passed around, ideas are sown.
I hear feelings.
Distance is bridged; proximity is created.
Words echo.The laughter is contagious, it spreads and multiplies.
There’s a sense of peace within me when I observe happiness from the outside, as a spectator.I could never explain why.It may sound strange.But I know I’ve always felt it.I just hadn’t felt it in a long time.
Between my time here at the CIC and my focused hours reading papers and writing on my laptop, I managed to stop by my sister’s business almost every day.Some days she was spending the day in the office; on others, she was out setting up an event.
My mother would show up at the CIC to see how everything was going and check if she could help with anything, without even asking what.She’s been the mayor for years, but her care feels more like a mother’s embrace than a title.
Being with her feels like coming home: taking off my shoes and bra, letting go of the day’s worries.And it’s incredible to see how her children are not the only ones who feel that way around her — how she attracts that in other people who need a motherly figure in their lives.Do we naturally attract others based on the life stories we carry?
I always found time to call my mom from the city, but I’ve missed her hug on many gray days.
I sit on the grass at the CIC’s garden, in the spot beneath the majestic tree where Miles and I used to lie and sunbathe before Miss Amara came to call us for the Thursday shift.
Miles and I have texted each other once since he went back to New York, firm in our decision to stay friends.Two texts.Three days ago.
I carryso muchcare for him.
During this last goodbye, my heart felt heavy, tight, disoriented by the possibility of not seeing him again.It had been comforting to hear him promise not to disappear.To know that I wouldn’t have to miss him endlessly.
I miss him.
