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Dinner sounds like a fine way to start over. “Yes.”
“But nothing healthy, please. I can’t take it tonight.”
I laugh. “French fries make everything better.”
We go to a diner to eat, and it’s awkward. It’s hard as hell. But it’s necessary.
* * *
The next day, I feel different. Yes, I forgive my father, but that’s not the only burden that’s lifted. I’m not beholden to him anymore.
Or really, I’m not beholden to the guilt.
It’s gone, and so is my reluctance to live my own life. I’m going to do it, no matter the consequences.
After work, I take that step, and I send Finn another gift.
33
NO REGRETS
Finn
My brother and his son are locked in a who-can-make-a-bigger-cannonball contest. I’m out of the competition because I’m being chased through Nick’s pool by a small dragon on a noodle.
I freestyle it through the chlorinated water, but of course the fire-breathing creature is faster, shouting “gotcha” as he topples me, dunking me under with a little hand.
I pop up, feigning breathlessness as I slide a hand over my wet head. “You win. You win,” I say, begging Zach for mercy.
“Yes! I am the pool dragon!”
I’m not even sure what game we’re playing. But after a few more rounds, it ends, and I climb out of the water. David and Zach will stay in till they become fish or prunes, whichever comes first.
“Need to get back to Miami so I can enjoy the outdoor pool,” I say to my brother as I grab a towel and dry off. It’s been a while since I made it to South Beach, and I’d like to soak in the rays there.
“Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind crashing at your place someday soon,” Nick says as he flops onto a lounge chair.
“You’re not taking over my house before I get to go there.”
With a shrug, he says, “I might.”
“Please,” I scoff.
Now I really need to plan a trip there, just to beat him. But I can’t picture a weekend or more in Miami without a certain person there too. The person who hasn’t left my thoughts since I left Paris two weeks ago.
That someone has been sending me little gifts all week, starting with that pineapple, then the chili flakes, then a book she thought I might like, then another card in the mail with a daisy illustration on it. Inside, it read:Je ne regrette rien.
Each time she sends me something, I text her, and we talk like that all night. Well, text like that.
I grab my phone before I sit down, in case she texts again. Maybe I’m addicted.
And maybe I’m in luck. An email notification blinks at me. It’s from the New York Public Library—a trio of tickets to an upcoming event with the author ofCaptain Dude.
Wow. A pool dragon I know will be ridiculously excited.
Hell, I’m ridiculously excited just to read her note.
Would you and Zach like to go with me?
