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She straightens, patting my arm. “I’m teasing. Relax. Go now before she rips your head off and I have to find myself another best friend.”
I hug her goodbye and walk back to my truck, where Charlee is still sitting in the same position, her nose buried in her phone. When she sees me approaching, she locks it and looks away.
“Sorry about the wait,” I tell her as I slide behind the wheel.
“It’s fine,” she mutters, and I can’t help but wonder if “fine” and anger are her two default modes I’ll have to put up with for the rest of this trip.
We ride in silence for fifteen minutes before we reach the thick pine forest. The trees swallow up what little daylight remains, plunging us into near-total darkness. The road twists and turns like a snake around the trees, giving me little visibility of what lies ahead. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Charlee’s curiosity has gotten the better of her bad mood. She pulls herself up, taking in the sights as we drive deeper into the shadows. Minutes later, I put my blinker on, then pull my truck onto a narrow dirt road.
“Sorry,” I say when Charlee’s head hits the passenger window. “The road’s a little bumpy.”
After a while, the pines disappear, giving way to a large clearing with a view of the lake. My cabin stands at the far end. I park my truck and switch off the engine.
“Home sweet home.”
Charlee doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even break a smile at my absurd attempt to lighten the mood. Instead, she says thanks, opens the door, grabs her luggage from the back, and strides briskly toward my front door.
Meanwhile, I’m still sitting behind the wheel, watching her and wondering how the hell I’m gonna get through these two weeks unscathed.
Toronto, November 10, 2017
Hey Oli,
Today, I miss you more than ever.
My mom isn’t doing well. Since the beginning, I’ve been to every chemo appointment, poured countless glasses of water to help her swallow an endless number of pills, and waited while she was having her double mastectomy. But I can’t do it anymore, Oli. I can’t be the strong daughter she needs me to be.
We got news today that her breast cancer progressed to stage IV. Can you imagine? She did chemo, radiotherapy, meds, and surgery, and still, the cancer found a way to get worse. Doctors said that seeing her current condition, Mom isn’t a good candidate for clinical trials. Those are for patients who still have a fighting chance, and in her case, we’ve apparently reached the stage of keeping her comfortable.
I lost it, Oliver. I ran out of the room and slammed the door behind me. Riley was there too, so she took Mom home. I drove straight to the Bluffs (it’s a park near the city). I can’t believe what’s happening to her. The prognosis seemed so promising when they diagnosed her three years ago. She’s only fifty-four. She’s so young, and she has so much to do and see. She can’t die now. There are so many things I still want to do with her, so many places I want to show her.
If you were serious about that promise, I’d take you up on it right about now. I need a friend like you. It’s funny how someone can become so close to you despite not having met them in “real” life. I can’t remember opening up to anyone like I do with you. It’s always been so hard for me, but with you, it comes naturally. Maybe you’re asking the right questions, or maybe you’re just . . . magic. So, to answer your question, yes, I trust you. It feels weird to say, but if my life depended on it, I’d trust you in a heartbeat.
I wish you were here today. I’d lay with my head on your shoulder, and we’d just sit in silence, watching the sun fall below the horizon instead of being alone. The view from the park is beautiful, though. I know you’d be able to make me feel better just by being here.
Would it be crazy if I said I wanted to meet you in person? Do you think we could do it? We’ve joked about it here and there, but I realize now that I’m actually serious. Because when things go awry like today, it’s you I turn to in my mind. It’s you I think about, and it’s you who soothes me, if only a little, even if you don’t know it. Can you imagine what it would be like if we were next to each other? I get shivers just thinking about it. Thinking about you.
And maybe I could meet your grandparents too, and your friends and Lola. You guys sound like quite the crew.
Hope all is well on your end. I’m sending you so much love.
Xx,
Charlee
Attached article
Going out with someone you’ve never met? The dangers of online dating
Chapter Thirteen
MOTION SICKNESS
Charlee
There is something very strange about standing in Oliver’s house. Even after all these years and knowing so much about him, I still feel like I’m in a stranger’s home. Everything makes sense but also doesn’t. It’s like I can reconcile some pieces of him with what I see, while some parts just don’t want to fit into that mold.
I’m still in the doorway, Oliver’s footsteps coming closer. I can feel him behind me before he says, “You can go in, you know.”
