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“Do you feel better?” Cindy asked. “Different?”
“I’m not sure.”
I felt lighter, I guessed. Less guilty. Happy for Em, but kind of confused.
“Come on,” she said. “I have an idea. I know what we need.”
I’d barely turned the key in the ignition before she was giving me directions.
“Left onto Main Street, then a right on Dexter,” she said.
A few minutes later, we were in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour convenience store and Cindy pulled me inside. The cashier took a long look at us strangely but shrugged as Cindy took my wrist and pulled me down the small aisle for party supplies.
“Here,” she said. “They actually have some.”
She triumphantly held up a bag of cheap balloons. Red ones.
“What do we need balloons for?” I wondered.
She didn’t answer. She just gathered the rest of her supplies. Some index cards. Some string. And a pen.
We approached the cashier and he rung up the items, but Cindy was already opening the balloons.
“Can we get a couple of these blown up?” she asked him.
“Are you serious?” he wondered, eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” she said, with the utmost seriousness. “It’s extremely important. We need these balloons blown up… in the name of romance. Please.”
“I don’t have a helium tank,” he told her. “So sorry about your romance.”
Cindy gritted her teeth, but was already formulating a plan B.
“Matches,” she said, like she’d been struck with brilliance. “Do you have matches?”
“Yeah. Several very romantic options.”
I heldon to the bag tightly as Cindy and I walked toward the park. There was no one around. It was completely dark except for a few streetlights, way in the distance. And the stars. Cindy found a little bench by the water and announced that we were stopping here.
“Cindy, what the hell are we doing?” I asked.
“We’re setting ourselves free.”
“You mean we’re going skinny-dipping?” I eyed the water; it looked fucking freezing. No way in hell was I getting in there.
“No,” she said. “We’re letting go of the past. We’re going to write down everything we need to let go of on these papers and burn it. Fire is cleansing. It’s symbolic.”
“I see. Wait, you originally wanted to tie these to the balloons and let them go, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. But this will work too. Plus, balloons are probably terrible for the environment. Now, come on.”
Cindy tore open the index cards and pens and thrust them into my hands. I got to work immediately, the words pouring out of me like water.
My father. I promised my dad that I’d keep his business in good hands. I did that for ten years. Now it’s in Carter’s hands, which are probably better than mine anyway.
My mom. I love my mom and I promised dad that I’d take care of her. Mom will have Max around now. And that guy she’s seeing. She’s also a grown-ass woman and she’ll be fine. Plus, phones.
The Marines. It isn’t going to happen. I have to accept that. But being a firefighter is still pretty cool. I think I could be happy doing that.
