Today is Friday.Philia and Cara met Miles earlier this week.Theyhadto come to the Elmwood Center on Monday when I did.Simply because theyhadto.
Miles was really nice to them.He had coffee with us and made them laugh out loud when we sat at a table that was off balance.They brought up the topic of “younger Ella”, the soup-spilling accident on a table with uneven legs, and other stories.My friends didn’t get to meetthatElla, but their verdict was: “Not much has changed,” which I tried to disagree with.
Miles parted ways with us, saying it was really nice to meet them, and hugged me goodbye.He was taking his father out to dinner.
As the three of us left the building together, my girlfriends exchanged a suspicious look.
“What’s going on?”I asked, bracing myself for their thoughts on Miles.
“When is he leaving for New York?”Philia asked, her face clouded with concern.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
I haven’t asked Miles that directly, but I’d heard a rumor, from the nurses, that he’d asked questions about the possibility of transferring his dad to a care center in New York.He hasn’t mentioned it to me, though, so for now, I’m still not believing it.
I don’t want to believe it.I don’t even want to think about it.
“Maybe he’ll be moving around, kinda like me.He has his job there, but his father is here,” I said, and paused.A hollow feeling settled in my stomach for a moment.The idea of him looking for a nice care center back in New York actually makes sense.
“But I’ll ask him!”I said… but I still haven’t.
Another quiet, suspicious exchange passed between Philia’s and Cara’s eyes.
“What?”I asked, suddenly worried.
I thought maybe they had heard the rumor too.
My heart ached.
“And when are you going to tell him?”Cara asked softly.
“What?”I repeated.
“That you’ll be heartbroken if he says goodbye to you again,” Philia said.
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out.I moved my arms to gesticulate, but they meant nothing.
My girls stepped closer and wrapped me in a hug, not forcing me to answer, as if they had already read my mind.
I have never opened up to a guy before, not like that.Not with these feelings.Not with this vulnerability.This is both old and familiar, yet new and terrifying at the same time.
Is it possible that I’ve only truly known love like this at twenty-seven?Am I ready forlove?
They let go, and we started walking toward our destination, our arms intertwined.Wrapped in our comfortable silence.
I smiled as I observed each of them.
Patience is one of the softest forms of love.
Chapter 67
Miles
August 28th, 2009
Friday
I spent my 28thbirthday with my father.
