by Leanne Davis
I’ve never done this particular goodbye either. I’ve left friends before, like Jacey, when they didn’t want me to. But not anyone I love. I think I love her at least. I think I do love Dani. But I don’t tell her that. What kind of shit game would that be of me? To say Oh, I love you, thank you for healing my sex hang-ups, and oh, by the way? Goodbye.
“Can I take you anywhere?” She pushes her toe into the sand at our feet and slips her flip-flops back on.
“No. I’ll walk to the bridge and go on to Oregon.”
She doesn’t lift her head. “The bridge is seven or eight miles downriver. It looks closer than it is.”
“That’s okay, Dani. I can spend all day doing that,” I say softly. I don’t want to antagonize her. I don’t know what to say though. I have no idea how to articulate what I feel for her, what she’s become to me, how this vacation feels with her, and most of all, how to say the right words to end this now. How do I say goodbye?
“Right. Because that’s what you do, huh? You walk seven or eight miles… to wherever.”
Anger seeps into her words. I swallow, keeping my gaze down and say hollowly, “Well, yeah.”
“No plan. No commitment.”
I flinch. Obviously, I get her meaning. No plans or commitment towards her. I nod.
Her phone dings, and she glances at it. “My dad again. I think he thinks I’m going to disappear down the road.”
“With me?”
She nods.
“Except I know not to ask you.”
“Would you want me to?”
“You can’t live the way that I do. I realize that. So do you.”
“I know.” She swallows. Then she flips her hair back, straightens her shoulders and becomes the cool, efficient, straightforward Dani I’ve watched, admired, and grown to love. “Let’s do this. Get it over with.” She steps towards me, and I automatically tuck her into my body, hugging her hard with my arms. She buries her head in my chest. Minutes pass. Long, poignant moments.
She releases me. “Goodbye, Wesley Abbott.”
She doesn’t ask me to stay. She doesn’t ask me to go. She doesn’t try to change me or my mind. She doesn’t weep or beg. She doesn’t say any more words.
I want to speak. I want to say dozens of words. I want to beg her to come with me. I want to stay. I want… so much that it overwhelms me. Pain starts to build behind my eyes. A pain I’ve never felt before. Pressure so intense, it feels as if it will pop my eye right out of its socket.
But I don’t say anything other than, “Goodbye, Dani D.”
She smiles at my lame attempt at a joke to lighten the hollow sadness that suddenly seems to blacken the entire world.
She steps back. She does it again. She turns and puts her hand on the door handle. “You deserve it.”
I lean down to tug on my pack while she opens her car door and gets in. My pack feels heavier than I remember it. I’m swinging it upwards as she speaks. My stomach tightens. I have never been comfortable with confrontation or anger. Two emotions that always make me want to run. They are unpredictable, and I never know how people will act when they are affected by them. Look at Wyatt. I tried to use my size to keep people from confronting me, as if I knew what to do about it. But damn! I hate it. But having someone I care about mad at me? My stomach clenches. I can’t help the automatic reaction.
“Deserve what?” I say, my pack on as I start to strap it around my torso.
Tears roll free from her eyes. They drip down her face past her sunglasses. She smiles and nods and holds my gaze for such a long time, I think she isn’t going to answer. Finally, she says, “Love. You deserve love, Wesley. Family. Home. Everything you never had. I hope you realize someday you don’t have to keep running to avoid wanting it. And if you ever do stop long enough to realize you might want it and see you always deserved it, I know you and you deserve it, Wesley Abbott. Wherever and whenever you are ready to have it.”
She smiles, slams her door shut, shifts her car into gear and leaves. That’s it. She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t wait for me to answer. She doesn’t do anything. She doesn’t guilt trip me. She doesn’t ask me to stay. She puts no pressure on me whatsoever. No bullshit. She just leaves. She just gives me a graceful goodbye, a safe exit and leaves.
She leaves me with the words that tell me the one thing at the very core of me I have never believed. There must be something wrong with me. Because of never having a family or home or love or people who were supposed to give love to me. They twisted it up and morphed it into perversion or pain. It must be my fault. My core is rotten. I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve her.
I made the right decision for both of us, of course. Duh. I’m a traveler. She’s going to be an orthodontist. There is no mingling of those two lifestyles and life goals. There is no home for me. Especially now.
Chapter 18
DANI
My father hurries to my car when I pull in, he’s so relieved to see me. I cried all the way home. He pulls me from the car and hugs me. “Hey, baby girl.” It only makes me cry harder. He always comforts me first and chides me later. He doesn’t demand answers like, what did I think was going to happen? I hooked up with a homeless kid. For all his talk of glamour and controlling his destiny, and all his wanderlust and adventures, at the root of it, Wesley was basically homeless.
“I knew this was going to happen.” I swipe my eyes too hard. I am so angry. “I knew he was leaving. I never even tried to convince myself he wouldn’t leave. Who does that, Dad? Who knows something like that going in and pursues it anyway? How can you even let me cry? Or feel sorry for me. You should be mad at me.” I sob into his chest harder as he guides me inside and plops me down on the couch. He sits next to me, stroking my hair like he used to when I was little.
“Love, honey. Love makes people do it. It makes them cry.”
I shake my head. “He had a tragic, sad upbringing. Cigarette burns on his back. He freaked out when he first kissed me because some old lady molested him. Life goes on despite tragedy, Dad.”
He strokes me still. “And you think for those reasons you wouldn’t want him?”
I shake my head. Sobbing harder. “Nooo. I just knew… I knew he’d leave me. Why am I crying?”
“Because your head knows, but your heart doesn’t like it. You know what I know?”
“What?” I lift my face to look at his dear, weathered face. He has a few age spots on his temple and nose. His hair is all white now. Still, my heart swells with love knowing he was the difference in making my life so good. And healthy. A happy home and family and lots of love. Even now. Even when it was about sex and a guy I barely should have been doing it with. Most dads would have made me sneak out and hide. They would not let me go spend a week with a guy who claims that traveling is… what? His job and lifestyle?
I feel like rolling my eyes at that. I hate his traveling lifestyle at the moment. It doesn’t sound so understandable right now.
“If you told me I was going to lose my wife after only seven years together and be left on my own to raise a little daughter all alone and never find anyone again because her love ruined me for everyone else, you know what?”
“What?”
“I’d do it all over again. Knowing all of that and how it would end. I would have still done it. Because nothing feels like true love, does it, Dani?”
I lean into his shoulder and cry harder, shaking my head. “I thought I loved Wyatt… and then… and then Wesley came around… I’m sorry. I know it was all so shocking and fast and confusing…”
He pats my head. “It wasn’t that shocking. I saw you look at him one of those times I was in the café. I saw the look. I know you. But you know what? I’d rather you break up with the guy I loved than risk making the mistake of staying with a guy you don’t love. I wouldn’t wish you or Wyatt anything less than true love. The kind that made you. The kind I think you experienced for the first time with Wesley.”
I’m h
ysterical again. “I d-d-don’t understand why you’re so cool. Looking at you, no one would suspect it, Dad.” I gasp. He hoots at my comment and pats my back.
“Love. Again. My love for you makes me try to look at things the way you would. As a girl, and now a young woman. I never really know, but I always try.”
“And you succeed.” I rub my runny nose. “You don’t think I’m a stupid flake who lost my mind and deserves this?”’
“No. I’m glad you kept your mind and came home, realizing you can’t go off and live nowhere no matter how romantic it might sound. You aren’t cut out for that.”
He lets me cry and cry until I’m out of tears. Depleted. I go to shower while Dad unloads my car, despite my protests that I’ll do it later. He waves me off. I curl up in comfy, ugly clothes and huddle under a hoodie. I climb into my bed. My bedroom door opens, and I sit up surprised to find… Wyatt?
Puzzled, I begin rubbing my sore eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I took a guess you were crying.”
“For Wesley. And you wanted to say I told you so?” I spit out spitefully. The anger I really feel is toward Wesley, not Wyatt, but I don’t stop myself in time. I shake my head. “I’m sorry, that was low. I just—”
“You’re hurt. And angry.” He steps closer and sits on my bed, pulling me into a hug.
“How did you know?”
“Because I just spent a while listening to my mom and Jacey cry. He sent them Facebook messages saying goodbye. They thought he’d come back after your trip.”
“Jacey?”
“He didn’t even say goodbye to her. She was left here in Silver Springs, feeling abandoned by him. He’s kind of a lousy friend.”
He is. But I love him, and I know all these tragic things that explain the depths of his commitment issues, so I bite tongue and try not to defend him. Which I really feel the urge to do.
He nudges me back. “I’ll ask what I asked them. Did you invite him to stay?”
“He would never. He’s got this tragic past and doesn’t think he can live anywhere—”
“So, you didn’t actually just ask him to stay here?”
“No. I didn’t ask him. But duh, I wanted him to. He knew that.”
“As far as I can gather, no one actually asked him.”
“So?” My head is fuzzy. Snot has clogged up my clear thinking and the ache behind my eyes keeps pounding because I can’t help squinting at the light.
Wyatt sighs. “So, the fucker thinks he doesn’t know how to live in a house with other people. He managed to do that just fine. Maybe someone just needed to point that out to him. But it seems to me everyone thought they had him all figured out, and yet they all failed to notice he changed. He’s just too stupid to see it. He got so stuck being the great wanderer, incapable of being normal and all that shit. I think he prides himself on it in too many ways.”
I can’t think, so I glare at Wyatt. His points might make sense, but he’s being kind of a jerk about Wesley. Like he always was. Does he have a point? I don’t know. I really don’t know. Wyatt sighs and lies down beside me. “Get some sleep, Dani. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
“No, it won’t.”
“No, but someday it will be.”
WESLEY
I make it across the bridge and into Oregon. I quietly slip into the woods off some highway that leads towards Astoria where the Columbia River dumps into the ocean. I set up my tent and munch on some oats I boiled in water. I throw the empty pan down in disgust and stare at it. I’m bored. So fucking bored. And sad. So fucking sad. I just crawl into my tent and get into my sleeping bag even if it’s too warm. There’s nothing else to do. I lie there. Then I begin thinking. Great. I get to think. And I think some more.
Darkness falls. No big deal. It’s never bothered me before. But I can’t sleep. Not at all.
Then I click my phone on. Nothing. Of course. I didn’t give them a phone number. There are my messages from Facebook. I glance, surprised to find one.
I’m shocked even more when I recognize the profile. Wyatt?
Where the fuck are you? is all his message says.
My fingers hover above the keyboard. Why would I answer that? Why would Wyatt of all people I’ve ever met, ask me that? But I’m compelled to type, Over the bridge.
Duh. I know that. But where exactly?
Why? I answer.
Because I forgot to give you something. Just tell me where you are.
I’m so puzzled. What could he have forgotten to give me? Maybe a fist in the face for all the grief I brought him? Losing Dani? Jacey staying at his house when he so distinctly dislikes people doing that?
Across the river, up the hill off Hallinger Drive. In the woods just to your left.
It’s a good twenty minutes before he answers, You’re a fucking mo-hill.
I have no idea why Wyatt says that to me. I stare at it, slightly shocked, my gaze widening. And then I start to laugh. And I laugh some more. It’s the first thing today that’s made me smile. And why did I tell him where I was? What can he do? Nothing. Really. So, why not?
Even if my interest in what he wants is piqued, I couldn’t even guess what Wyatt might want of me.
Minutes later, car lights sweep over the depths of woods. Soon, steps and a flashlight bounce around the area. “Wesley! Show your stupid ass.”
I get up. “Here.”
He sweeps the flashlight over me. “You don’t have a light?”
“Not out right now.”
“Yeah, you’re a real stud.” He stares at me.
“What? What do you want?”
He sighs. “Did anyone ask you to stay?”
I cross my arms over my chest, knowing my expression of you’re crazy shows on my face. “What?”
“I got three crying women on my hands, all ‘cause of your sorry ass. So near as I gathered, all of them plan to let you go on your tragic way. Did anyone ask you to just fucking stay?”
“Well, no. I mean, it was understood I wasn’t. I can’t. I’m—”
“A traveler. We all know.” His dull tone tells me what he thinks of that. “Fucker, you got a girl back there in love with you. A friend who thinks you’re the only one who will understand her and for God’s sake, you got my mom and dad wishing you were their little boy. You need an engraved invite or what? Sleeping on the ground in the dark woods when you don’t have to is somehow better?”
“I—” I open my mouth but don’t know what to say. Everything freezes in me. No. No one asked me to stay. Of course! Because I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t. I just—
“Why can’t you stay? You have no place to be and not one person outside of Silver Springs that cares if you show up or don’t. Far as I can gather, no one else cares if you’re even alive. Sounds like a pathetic-ass existence to me. So, go home. You had one once. You’re just being a dick if you pretend otherwise. They were just being all polite and dancing around those pretty little feelings of yours. Get your ass back home.”
My mind is spinning. Wyatt? What is Wyatt doing? Saying? Why Wyatt? He hates me.
“Why are you doing this? You hate me. You hate me being there.”
“I did. But I hate Dani being upset more and my mother getting all sad for you. And hell, you’re handy with the chores. So, fuck. Fine. Stay there. I don’t care.”
“So, what? What happens when I hate it in six months or nine months or a year? I can’t guarantee anything and—”
“Then you leave. What’s the difference if you leave now or then? If you’re going to end up leaving, then I think nothing will stop you. But if you don’t have to, then don’t. You didn’t seem to want to. You won’t be hogtied or married to Dani. So, if that’s what you decide, you can take your sad-ass pack and leave. Like you just did. But why are you going if you’re not ready yet? No one else is either.”
“I—”
Wyatt sighs and squats down. “Look. The scars on your back are brutal. I don’t deny it. I don’t know wha
t you’ve gone through, but obviously, you didn’t have what I did. You… you should stay and enjoy it now.”
It’s so simple and reluctantly given from Wyatt. But because of our start, it’s pretty spectacular.
“I have a life.”
“You have a backpack.”
“A lot of people live this way and love it.”
“Good for them. What I saw was a guy who loved learning how to mow the lawn from my dad and my mom making sure you ate all your meals. And a girl who’s smarter and more together than anyone deserves and who thought you were it for her. So, don’t be a dick about all that.” Wyatt shakes his head. “Look, this isn’t even a bad way to live. I see the appeal. I just think you were doing it because you had nothing before and no one else. No better way to be. But I think for you, there is something now. And it’s right back there, about twenty miles the other direction in Silver Springs.”
I feel poised. To run. Away? Or back the twenty miles? It feels like both. Pressure builds in my temples. A family. A home. A girl. Commitment. Love. Care. Protection. Love. It all swirls inside me. I can’t believe it. I don’t deserve it.
Dani says I do.
And Wyatt—Wyatt of all people is asking. I don’t know if anything could be a message like this.
“Holy fuck, man. Calm down. I guess I know you’ve had this panic thing, but you gotta relax. Calm down. It’s a car ride. It’s a stay in a room you’ve been in for three months. It’s just time you’ve already spent. It’s just a continuation of that.”
Time he’d already spent? Calm down? Even Wyatt’s seeing my crazy-assed panic shit.
How is it that walking down dark alleys in the middle of the night or having drug addicts come after me to score product, which I never have, doesn’t even make me blink in surprise or nerves? But a damn kiss does? When it comes to anyone trying to care about me, I lose my damn mind. So, I finally find someone who accepts me as I am. Who I can do these things with despite the overwhelming panic and anxiety that chronically plagues me. I find someone… and I leave them. Like that?
