The Miles Between

by Mary E. Pearson

  “Your theory?”

  “Remember? I mentioned it this morning before I was cut off.” He shoots me a stiff look. “That vacation time should be mandatory. Six weeks minimum.”

  “How did he respond to that?” Seth asks.

  “He nodded. And then he said, Hm. Just like that. Hm. Seemed like he was really thinking it over. And then he asked me my name. He zipped up, shook my hand, and said, Thank you, Aidan.”

  Mira grimaces. “Without washing first?”

  “Yes. Washing, then shaking,” Aidan clarifies. “He acted like what I had to say was really important. He listened. He really listened. To me. It wasn’t just lip service, like I get at school. What I said mattered—at least to him it did.”

  Seth and Mira are exuberant, asking more questions, Mira giving him a spontaneous hug and then blushing crimson when she realizes what she has done. Aidan turns the attention to me.

  “You haven’t said anything, Des. What do you think?”

  I don’t want to spoil his moment, and I know Aidan doesn’t like to think of such things, but since he asked, I must tell him. “I was just thinking, what are the chances?”

  11

  CHANCE WEAVES THROUGH OUR LIVES. For some it is made of a golden thread. Will and Caroline Faraday had seemed destined for happiness. That is what Aunt Edie had told me. Many times. It was like a story she read from a book over and over again. She wanted me to understand and know my parents. To understand her only sister.

  They married young, “without two nickels to rub together,” as Aunt Edie put it. But they had endless amounts of hope for the future. Will was a pilot, and Caroline was good with numbers, and they began a courier business with a rented plane and an office on the kitchen table of their apartment. They took any and every job they could, and soon they owned the plane, plus two more. From then on, it seemed like everything they touched turned to gold. Within a few years their small courier service had grown into a national, then international shipping business. They ventured out into other businesses, which also prospered. Their company entered the ranks of the Fortune 500 by the time they were both twenty-eight years old. Through it all, they remained best friends and wildly in love. But for all their happiness, they knew they were missing something. They wanted a family. Will was an only child and had always dreamed of a houseful of children. Aunt Edie was much older than her sister, so Caroline grew up as an only child as well and longed for a large family. “When you were born, their happiness seemed complete. The world revolved only around you, Destiny.”

  I remember those years. I remember them well. Seven years. They are all I have. Because, as Aunt Edie puts it, “It wasn’t until your mother became pregnant with Gavin that things began to unravel. One thing just seemed to lead to another.”

  It was usually about this point in her story that she would begin wiping at her eyes and telling me how sorry she was for everything I had been through. And it was always then that I would ask for one more chance. One more chance to be a good girl. One more chance to make them love me enough to keep me with them—the way they kept Gavin.

  I only brought it up for a few visits because it just made Aunt Edie cry more. After that I would remain silent while she talked, and I would think about chance and the order of it, rather than the randomness, and wonder why some chances stacked up to make everything right, and some stacked up to make everything wrong.

  12

  WE FINALLY LEAVE the hilly lane to Drivby behind us, and Seth presses the pedal to the floor to gain some distance on the road. I am well aware that I have only eight miles left to my designated nineteen before I must hand the floor over to Aidan, and I still have a few more things to say. Especially now.

  He and Mira are chattering in the back seat. I turn and join their chatter. “Isn’t it odd, Aidan, how you just mentioned being president this morning?”

  His smile dims. “Yes, I thought of it too.”

  “I forgot about that,” Seth says. “Very weird.”

  Aidan frowns. “Just say it, Des. Get it out of your system, and let’s move on.”

  Mira says it for me, though much more enthusiastically than I ever could. “That’s a freakish coincidence!”

  I smile. Some things come so easy. “Nothing much to add,” I say.

  “But you will,” Aidan replies.

  When he’s right, he’s right. “I guess you’re just one of those one-in-a-million people who gets an audience with the president and gets to speak his mind on exactly the subject that he had just been raving about.”

  “I wasn’t raving.”

  “Debatable. But since we’re on the subject of presidents and coincidences anyway—do you know about the ones with Kennedy and Lincoln?”

  Aidan sighs.

  “I want to hear,” Seth says, eyeing Aidan in the rearview mirror.

  “They were both assassinated,” Mira offers.

  “Yes, Mira. But there’s more. In 1846 Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress and in 1946, exactly one hundred years later, so was Kennedy! Then in 1860 Lincoln was elected president and a hundred years later in 1960, Kennedy was too.”

  Seth and Mira both inhale on cue. Aidan says, “Interesting.”

  “That’s just the beginning,” I say. “Both were succeeded to office by Southerners named Johnson, and both of those Johnsons were born exactly one hundred years apart.”

  More gasps and amazement. “Lincoln died on a Friday and so did—”

  “Kennedy?” Mira says in disbelief.

  “That’s right. More?”

  Seth and Mira offer a loud, “Yes!” Aidan nods.

  “Lincoln was shot while sitting next to his wife in a theater built by John Ford, and Kennedy was shot while sitting next to his wife in a car built by Henry Ford. Oh! And the type of car Kennedy rode in was a Lincoln!”

  “Okay! Okay!” Aidan says. “Lots of strange similarities! It’s hard to explain.”

  “Thank you, Aidan.” I turn back around in my seat. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

  “Hard, but not impossible,” he adds. “Coincidences happen all the time. And there’s the Law of Truly Large Numbers. Ever hear of that?”

  I should have known that Aidan, of all people, would bring that up. “I’ve heard.”

  “I haven’t,” Mira says.

  Aidan clears his throat. “Given enough time and a large enough sample, any outrageous thing is likely to happen. The odds are actually in favor of it. That’s the theory.”

  “There were only a hundred years and nineteen presidents from Lincoln to Kennedy,” I say. “That seems like a pretty small sample to me.”

  “But overall, throughout all of time—”

  “Right. I know. Give a million monkeys . . .”

  “Give them what?” Mira asks.

  I rub my temples. “Give them five minutes with Aidan and they’ll all have migraines.”

  “I don’t know if Aidan getting to pee next to the president was completely random or if some force was at work, but either way, I’m glad it turned out the way it did,” Seth says. “He told the president something important.”

  Mira leans forward so she is nearly speaking right into my ear. “And we’re all just once removed from Aidan’s claim to fame. That kind of makes us important too.”

  The momentum. It is there again, in their voices, and I am suddenly ashamed that I didn’t just let Aidan have his moment of glory without having to hammer my point home with him. Everyone deserves a day. One day. Seth is right. For Aidan it doesn’t matter how or why it happened, only that it did. A kindergarten rebel redeemed. I relinquish the remainder of my nineteen miles. “It was important, Aidan. And also right that you were there to talk to him. However it happened.”

  He is silent for a moment and then says thanks in a voice that is soft and humble and doesn’t sound like Aidan at all. And then, almost to himself, he adds, “Interesting, though, that the number nineteen came up again. Nineteen presidents from Lincoln to Kennedy. Yes. In
teresting.”

  I settle back into my seat, silent. I hadn’t even thought of that.

  13

  AS WE TRAVEL NORTH, the hills even out and the vistas become more expansive. Mira becomes our spotter and points to the groves that are on fire with the golds, reds, and burgundies of autumn. We can see them easily without her help, but her enthusiasm sparks our own, and I find myself looking forward to her outbursts.

  Lucky sleeps on the seat between Seth and me. He has finished the grass Seth brought along and taken a chunk out of the middle of the seat as well. I see Seth wince when he notices the hole and exposed foam and then his furtive glance at me to see if I noticed. I cannot feign horror as I should because it is only a car, and not even mine, so when I only shrug, I imagine that Seth chalks it up to my much-rumored miswired brain. Small actions can carry large interpretations.

  We make good time, and I estimate we are only another half hour from Langdon. By now we have all missed two classes at Hedgebrook. Four absentee slips have arrived at the dean’s office. The infirmary has been checked, as well as our rooms. As a last measure, they are probably sweeping through the library, the dining hall, and behind the old carriage house, where occasional subversives carry on their expellable activities in the old livestock pen. Four missing students may even be cause to call the constable, but Mrs. Wicket will hold off on that as long as possible. She is not one to overreact, though the headmaster is. He is quick to remind all transgressors that there is a long waiting list to get into Hedgebrook and our spots can be filled at a moment’s notice. It is comforting to know we are so easily replaceable when so many things are not.

  Seth spots a brook running close to the road and pulls over. He says he thinks Lucky may need a drink and that this would also be a good time for Lucky to do his duty before he unloads in the front seat. Not knowing the bathroom habits of lambs, we all agree, but I think it will be interesting to see just how Seth plans to coax Lucky to take care of his business.

  Seth and Aidan walk to a nearby meadow with Lucky while Mira and I wait beside the car. I note Seth’s long slow strides next to Aidan’s rapid calculated ones. They are different in every way, from Seth’s unkempt blond hair to Aidan’s carefully parted and greased brown hair. Seth sets Lucky down, and even from a distance, I can see Lucky’s stubby tail wag like he is enormously excited about the patch of white clover surrounding him. Our little lamb seems to be a gourmet.

  Mira leans back against the car and folds her arms. “Don’t you think he’s handsome?”

  “Seth?”

  “No! Aidan, of course! He likes me, you know?” She smiles, her gaze following Aidan’s steps across the meadow. Mira’s affection for him has always been quite apparent. She follows him around like a lost puppy, practically nibbling on his heels like they are liver treats, but I have never seen anything except polite tolerance from Aidan in return.

  “Has he told you?” I ask, thinking it might be kinder to bring her back to reality than allow her to embarrass herself further.

  “No, silly. Some things you just know.”

  I feel like I am three feet tall and I have just been soundly patted on the head. Before I can respond, she skips away from the car calling after Aidan, and then a few yards away turns back to me and says, “You really need to pay attention more, Des!” She skitters away, not waiting for my reply, which is already tripping over itself in my head.

  Me? The Grand Observer? She is telling me to be more observant? Who does she think she’s talking to? I stomp forward a few feet and stop. Let her go! Let her embarrass herself with Aidan! It will serve her right.

  As soon as she approaches Seth and Aidan, I see a few words exchanged and Seth leaves them, walking back down the path toward me.

  He hops over the brook and dumps an armful of clover and grass onto the floor of the car. It seems we have given up all semblance of decorum in the name of Lucky. “Mira said you wanted me?”

  I roll my eyes. “I wanted you? That’s what she said? Aidan will see right through that one.”

  “Oh.” Seth nods and smiles. “I get it. I thought I saw some sparks.”

  I shrug. “From Mira, anyway.”

  “No, from Aidan too.”

  I turn sharply. “What? Deadpan Aidan? I don’t think so!”

  “That’s right, deadpan Aidan. I noticed he gets all googly-eyed every time he says her name, and he seems to say it a lot. At least three times just now in the meadow.”

  “You’re delusional.” I pull on the door handle to get back in. “If there were sparks, I would have seen them.”

  Seth puts his hand out and leans on the door so I can’t open it. “Maybe you don’t see as much as you think you do.”

  I let go of the handle, my arms and legs suddenly feeling like they have sprouted extra angles that won’t fold properly. Being someone different, even for one day, is unnerving. If I were still at Hedgebrook, following the routine, I wouldn’t be in a conversation like this, so close to Seth I could spit on him without trying. Maybe I already have? He has no proper sense of personal space. I shift my weight and fold my arms, being careful not to brush his chest in the process. Why is he so close? A flash of heat swirls in my belly, and my breath shudders as I inhale.

  “Maybe,” I say.

  Seth looks at me for a moment longer without blinking and then drops his hand. He steps away from the car and walks to the edge of the brook, sitting down on a lichen-splotched rock. He rests his hands on his thighs, his knees, and then back to his thighs. It seems my awkwardness is contagious. “Aidan told me about your aunt. Her tires, that is. Bad break.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Do you mind if I ask . . . what it is about this day? He said it was like you were expecting the news.”

  I hear the carefulness in Seth’s voice. Like I am fragile. I am not. If I were I would have fractured into a thousand pieces long ago. Maybe I have cracked a bit, but then, so has the Parthenon. “I wasn’t expecting it. It was just confirmation that some days are destined to go badly.”

  “Is your aunt in Langdon?” he asks. “Is that why we’re going there?”

  “No, she’s . . . she’s in Chatsworth to the south. About six hours. I didn’t think I could coax you all that far, not to mention we would have had to pass through Hedgebrook to get there.”

  He nods. “So there’s nothing special about Langdon?”

  Does he know something? I walk closer, eyeing another nearby rock, and take a seat there. “No. Why?”

  “You knew exactly how many miles away it was. It’s an odd thing to know, especially for someone who doesn’t drive.”

  “Langdon’s just a town. Like any other. And the closest one for us to have a day out.”

  “Our fair day,” he says, like he is clarifying my words.

  “That’s right.”

  “I have to confess,” he says. “When you came and got me this morning, I was fried and thinking of ways to leave Hedgebrook, at least for a little while. Your timing was surprising.”

  “Or a convenient coincidence. You obviously haven’t been paying attention.”

  I hear the tone in my voice, and I see Seth look away. Does he feel like he has just been soundly patted on the head? It wasn’t my intention, but it seems to be the result nonetheless. I search for something to say to diminish my last words. It is clear that I am not good at small talk.

  “It was more than your scruffy hair,” I blurt out.

  His gaze darts back toward me. “What?”

  He heard me. Why must I repeat it? “It was more than your uncombed hair that I noticed.”

  “Like?” I hear the caution in his voice.

  “On your first day, I noticed how you moved around in a room. Chemistry. The library. The dining hall. Everywhere. The way you talked. There were no strangers for you, even when that’s exactly what everyone was.”

  “And that surprised you?”

  “Not surprised. I didn’t even know you. It just stood out to me, and
I found it curious that on your first day you were comfortable striking up conversations with people you had never met. Anyone and everyone.”

  “Is that how I looked? Comfortable?” He smiles and shakes his head. “I was nervous. I always am. But I’ve learned to live with that.”

  “Live with it? What does that mean?”

  He shifts on his rock so he is facing me straight on. “I move a lot because of my father’s job. I’ve lived all over the world, but I’ve never lived anywhere more than a year, so I can’t waste a lot of time trying to get to know people. I have to jump right in; otherwise, I would never make a single friend before it was time for me to move again.”

  Never more than a year? How is that possible? He has moved more than I have.

  “How long will you be at Hedgebrook?” I ask.

  He grins. “After today, who knows? But technically I’ll be here until I graduate. My parents are in Singapore for my dad’s new job, but with college looming, they didn’t think my mom should tutor me anymore. I’m ahead in all my subjects, but I need some college prep, and they thought the consistency of a couple of years at the same place would be best for me. Collegewise, that is.”

  “Do you miss them?”

  He stands and wipes his hands on his pants and finally nods. “Yeah.”

  In all the times I watched Seth at a distance, I never would have guessed he was nervous. I never would have guessed that he missed anyone. I never would have guessed that he had slept in more beds than me. I never would have guessed that we had anything in common at all.

  I see Mira and Aidan approaching and I stand. Seth swings around and sees them too.

  They hop the brook, Lucky in Mira’s arms, and she sets him on the ground between us. He immediately occupies himself with a golden dandelion.

  “Lucky took care of his business!” Mira proudly announces.

  “You won’t believe this,” Aidan says, shaking his head.