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“Hey,” he says slowly. “Do you have plans today?”
“Just packing,” I reply as I fill up his coffee cup and top it with a plastic lid. “Why?”
“I want you to go somewhere with me. Will you?”
“Where are we going?” I ask as I fill a cup for me too.
He grins. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
“I don’t know.” I hesitate to say yes, even though he’s adorable asking the way he is. “Especially since you won’t tell me where we’re going.”
“You used to be fearless, Bess,” he says. “What happened to you?”
I straighten my spine. “Life happened. That’s what happened.”
“I only need you for a few hours,” he coaxes. “Come on, Bess. Fly away with me.”
We were six years old the first time he used that line on me. We’d been making paper wings and we had them on our backs. Mine were fairy wings and his were dragonfly wings, although to me they looked remarkably similar. He’d jumped on his bike and called for me to come fly away with him. I didn’t want to because I still had to add the glitter to my wings. But then he’d said the magic word:
“Chicken.”
I’d jumped on my bike and raced after him, my wings blowing in the breeze, riding so fast down the hills that my wings bent from the force of the wind.
Now he stares into my eyes and says it again. “Chicken.” It’s slow and succinct.
I look down at what I’m wearing. “Can I at least go change?”
He grins. “I kind of like the duck jammies.”
“Give me fifteen minutes.” I go to the bedroom and start to get dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Then I pull my hair into a ponytail. I yell into the kitchen, where I can hear him moving around, “I don’t have to look nice for this, do I?”
“You don’t ever have to look nice for me, Bess,” he calls back. “I’ve seen you naked, remember?”
“It was one time when we were thirteen!” I respond. “It doesn’t count!”
“The curtain shifted where you were changing clothes and there was your booty.” He barks out a laugh.
I come out of the bedroom feeling lighter than I have in a really long time. “And you started singing ‘Baby Got Back’.” I shove his shoulder. “You’re still a jerk-face.”
“You ready to go?”
He has a pile of my mom’s photo albums in his arms. “What are you doing with those?”
“Taking them with us. I want to look at them.”
My mom took pictures of everything, and there are photo books all over the cabin, along with stray photos that never got placed between plastic pages.
“Have you seen Eli?” I ask as we walk out the front door.
“He’s fishing with my twelve-year-old, Sam.” He points toward the lake, where I can see two figures sitting on the edge of the dock, their feet swinging back and forth.
“Where are the other two kids?” Last time I checked, he had three.
“Kerry-Anne is with her new bestie, Trixie, Jake and Katie’s daughter. And Miles is with the babysitter, who just happens to be Jake and Katie’s other daughter.” He opens the car door for me to get in. “Do you need to tell Eli you’re leaving?”
I shake my head and get in. “He won’t even notice I’m gone.”
And that is the truth. I could dye my hair purple and put on a pink tutu and Eli wouldn’t notice.
