Lost in my daze, I hadn’t heard Bryce get out of the truck, and by then he had reached my side. The door swung open, the step stool already in place. He reached for my arm and helped me down and my brain started repeating the word no…
“I know that what I’m about to say might sound crazy at first, but I’ve given it a lot of thought over the last few weeks. Trust me when I tell you it’s the only solution that makes any sense.”
I closed my eyes. “Please,” I whispered. “Don’t.”
He went on, as though he hadn’t heard me. Or maybe, I thought, I hadn’t said the words aloud, only thought them, because none of this felt real. It had to be a dream…
“From the first moment we met, I’ve known how special you are,” Bryce began. His voice sounded close and distant at the same time. “And the more time we spent together, the more I realized that I’d never meet anyone like you again. You’re beautiful and smart and kind, you have a great sense of humor, and all of that makes me love you in a way that I know I’m never going to be able to love anyone else.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Bryce kept going, his words coming even faster.
“I know you’re going to have the baby and that you’re supposed to leave right afterwards, but even you admit that going home will be a challenge. You don’t have a great relationship with your parents, you don’t know what will happen with your friends, and you deserve more than that. We both deserve more, and that’s why I brought you here. That’s why I went fishing with my grandfather.”
No, no, no, no…
“We can stay here,” he said. “You and me. I don’t have to go to West Point, and you don’t have to go back to Seattle. You can homeschool like I did, and I’m sure we could get everything done so you can graduate next year, even if you decide to keep the baby. And after that, maybe I go to college, or maybe we both go. We’ll figure it out like my parents did.”
“Keep the baby? I’m only sixteen…” I finally croaked out.
“In North Carolina, if there’s a birth of a child, we can petition the courts and they’d allow you to stay. If we live here together, you could be emancipated. It’s a little complicated, but I know I can find a way to make it work.”
“Please stop,” I whispered, knowing I’d somehow been expecting this since the moment he’d kissed my hand.
He suddenly seemed to recognize how overwhelmed I felt. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but I don’t want to lose you.” He drew in a deep breath. “The point is, I’ve found a way that we can be together. I have enough money in the bank to afford to rent this house for almost a year, and I know I can earn enough working with my grandfather to pay the rest of the bills without you having to work at all. I’m willing to tutor you in school, and I want nothing more than to be the father of your baby. I promise to love and adore her and treat her like my own daughter, even adopt her, if you’re willing to let me do that.” He reached for my hand, taking it, before lowering himself to one knee. “I love you, Maggie. Do you love me?”
Even though I knew where all of this was going, I couldn’t lie to him. “Yes, I love you.”
He looked up at me, eyes beseeching. “Will you marry me?”
* * *
Hours later, I sat on the couch, waiting for my aunt to return in what can only be likened to shell shock. Even my bladder seemed stunned into submission. As soon as Aunt Linda got home, she must have noted my expression and she immediately sat beside me. When she asked what had happened, I told her everything, but it wasn’t until I finished that she finally asked the obvious.
“What did you say?”
“I couldn’t say anything. The world was spinning, like I’d been caught in a whirlpool, and when I didn’t speak, Bryce finally said that I didn’t have to answer right away. But he asked me to think about it.”
“I was afraid this might happen.”
“You knew?”
“I know Bryce. Not as well as you know him, obviously, but enough not to be completely blindsided. I think his mom was worried about something like this as well.”
No doubt about it, and I wondered why I alone hadn’t seen it coming. “As much as I love him, I can’t marry him. I’m not ready to be a mom or a wife or even to be a grown-up yet. I came here just wanting to put all of this behind me so I could go back to my normal life, even if it is kind of boring. And he’s right—things could be better back home with my parents or my sister or whatever, but they’re still my family.”
Even as I said the words, my eyes filled with tears and I began to cry. I couldn’t help it. I hated myself for that, even as I knew I was telling the truth.
Aunt Linda reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’re wiser and more mature than you think you are.”
“What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to need to speak with him.”
“What should I say?”
“You need to tell him the truth. He deserves that much.”
“He’s going to hate me.”
“I doubt that,” she said, her voice quiet. “What about Bryce? Do you think he really thought this through? That he’s really ready to be a husband and father? To live in Ocracoke as a fisherman, or doing odd jobs? To give up West Point?”
“He said that’s what he wanted.”
“What do you want for him?”
“I want…” What did I want? For him to be happy? To be a success? To chase his dreams? To become an older version of the young man I’d learned to love? To stay with me forever?
“I just don’t want to hold him back,” I finally said.
Her smile couldn’t hide the sadness in her expression. “Do you think you would?”
* * *
The stress I was feeling made restful sleep impossible, and—maybe because I’d been in shock earlier—the Braxton Hicks contractions returned, with a vengeance, making their presence known all night long. Almost every time I was about ready to doze off, another would strike and I’d have to squeeze Maggie-bear hard just to get through it. I woke up Monday morning exhausted, and even then, they kept going.
Bryce didn’t show up at the house at his usual time, and I wasn’t in any mood to study. Instead, I spent most of the morning on the porch, thinking about Bryce. My mind flitted through dozens of imaginary conversations, none of them good, even as I reminded myself that I’d known all along that falling in love made a painful and terrible goodbye inevitable. I’d just never expected it to be like this.
I knew he’d come, though. As the morning sun gradually warmed the air, I could almost sense his spirit. I imagined him lying on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head, his eyes focused on the ceiling. Every now and then, he’d likely glance at the clock, wondering whether I needed more time before I was ready to give him an answer. I knew he’d want me to say yes, but what did he think would happen even if I did? Did he expect the two of us to march over to his house and tell his mom and that she’d be happy about it? Did he hope to listen on the phone while I called my parents and told them? Didn’t he know they’d fight the idea of emancipation? And what if his parents stopped speaking to him? And all of that ignored the fact that I was only sixteen and in no way ready for the kind of life he’d proposed.
As Aunt Linda had implied, it didn’t seem like he’d really thought through the ramifications. He seemed to view the answer through a lens that focused only on the two of us seeing each other, as though no one else would be affected. As romantic as that sounded, it wasn’t reality, and it ignored my feelings as well.
I think that’s what was bothering me most. I knew Bryce well enough to assume that the reasons made sense to him, and all I could think was that he, like me, suspected that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work for us. We might be able to write and call—though calls would be expensive—but when would we be able to see each other again? If I doubted whether my parents were going to let me date, there wasn’t a chance they’d let me go to the East Coast to see hi
m. Not until I graduated, and even then, if I was still living at home, they might not agree. Which meant at least two years, maybe more. And what about him? Could he fly out to Seattle in the summers? Or did West Point have mandatory leadership programs when school wasn’t in session? Part of me thought they probably did, and even if not, Bryce was the type of person who’d ordinarily line up an internship at the Pentagon or whatever. And, as close as he was to his family, he’d have to spend time with them as well.
Could you continue to love and be with someone if you never spent any time with them?
For Bryce, I began to understand, the answer was no. Something within him needed to see me, hold me, touch me. Kiss me. He knew that if I returned to Seattle and he went to West Point, not only were these things impossible, but we wouldn’t even have the kind of simple moments that led to us falling in love in the first place. We wouldn’t study at the table or walk the beach; we wouldn’t spend afternoons taking photographs or developing prints in the darkroom. No lunches or dinners or watching movies while sitting on the couch. He’d live his life and I’d live mine, we’d grow and change, and distance would take its inevitable toll, like drops of water wearing down a stone. He’d meet someone or I would, and eventually, our relationship would come to an end, leaving nothing but Ocracoke memories in its wake.
For Bryce, either we could be together or we couldn’t; there were no shades of gray, because all those shades reached the same inevitable conclusion. And, I admitted, he was probably right. But because I loved him, and though it was going to break my heart, I suddenly knew exactly what I had to do.
* * *
The realization, I’m pretty sure, caused another Braxton Hicks, this one the strongest yet. It lasted what seemed like forever but finally passed only minutes before Bryce finally showed up. Unlike the day before, he was in jeans and a T-shirt, and though he smiled, there was something tentative about it. Because the day was pleasant, I gestured for him to lead the way back down the stairs. We took a seat in the same spot I’d been when his mother had come by.
“I can’t marry you,” I said straight-out, and watched as he suddenly lowered his gaze. He clasped his hands together, the sight of it making me ache. “It’s not because I don’t love you, because I do. It has to do with me and who I am. And who you are, too.”
For the first time he glanced over.
“I’m too young to be a mother and a wife. And you’re too young to be a husband and father, especially since the child wouldn’t even be yours. But I think you already know those things. Which means you wanted me to say yes for all the wrong reasons.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t want to lose me,” I said. “That’s not the same thing as wanting to be with me.”
“They mean exactly the same thing,” he protested.
“No, they don’t. Wanting to be with someone is a positive thing. It’s about love and respect and desire. But not wanting to lose someone isn’t about those things. It’s about fear.”
“I do love you, though. And respect you—”
I reached for his hand to stop him. “I know. And I think you’re the most incredible, intelligent, kind, and handsome guy I’ve ever met. It scares me to think that I met the love of my life at sixteen, but maybe I have. And maybe I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by saying what I am. But I’m not right for you, Bryce. You don’t even really know me.”
“Of course I know you.”
“You fell in love with the marooned, sixteen-year-old pregnant and lonely version of me, who also happened to be just about the only girl in Ocracoke even close to your age. I barely know who I am these days and it’s hard for me to remember who I was before I got here. Which also means that I have no idea who I’m going to be when I’m a year older and I’m not pregnant. You don’t know, either.”
“That’s silly.”
I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking about ever since we met? I’ve been trying to picture who you’ll be when you’re an adult. Because I look at you and see someone who could probably be the president, if that’s what you set your mind to. Or fly helicopters or earn a million dollars or be the next Rambo or become an astronaut or anything else, because your future is unlimited. You have a potential that others can only dream about, simply because you’re you. And I could never ask you to give up those kinds of opportunities.”
“I told you that I could go to college next year—”
“I know you could,” I said. “Just as I know you’d always take me into account when you made that decision, too. But even that’s a limit and I couldn’t live with myself if I thought my presence in your life would ever take anything away from you.”
“How about if we wait a few years, then? Until I graduate?”
I raised an eyebrow. “A long engagement?”
“It doesn’t have to be an engagement. We can date.”
“How? We won’t be able to see each other.”
When he closed his eyes, I knew my earlier thoughts had been correct. There was something in him that didn’t only want but also needed me.
“Maybe I could go to school in Washington,” he muttered.
I could tell he was grasping, making it hard to go on. But I had no other choice. “And give up your dream? I know how much you’ve always wanted to go to West Point, and I want that for you, too. It would break my heart to think you gave up even one of your dreams for me. I want nothing more than for you to know I loved you enough to never take something like that away from you.”
“Then what are we going to do? Just walk away as though you and I never happened?”
I felt my own sadness expanding through me like an inflating balloon. “We can pretend it was a beautiful dream, one that we remember forever. Because we both loved each other enough to allow the other to grow.”
“That’s not good enough. I can’t imagine knowing that I’m never going to see you again.”
“Then let’s not say that. Let’s give it a few years. Meanwhile, you make decisions that are best for your future, and I’ll do the same. We go to school, we get jobs, we figure out who we are. And then, if we both think we want to give it another try, we can find each other and see what happens.”
“How long are you thinking?”
I swallowed, feeling the pressure behind my eyes begin to build. “My mom met my dad when she was twenty-four.”
“More than seven years from now? That’s crazy.” In his eyes, I thought I saw something like fear.
“Maybe. But if it works then, we’ll know it’s right.”
“Do we talk until then? Or write letters?”
That would be too hard for me, I knew. If I received regular letters, I’d never stop thinking about him, nor would he stop thinking about me. “How about a single Christmas card every year?”
“Are you going to date other people?”
“I don’t have anyone in mind, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you’re not saying that you won’t.”
The tears began to fall. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’ve known all along that saying goodbye would be hard, and this is all I can think to do. If we’re meant to be, we can’t just love each other as teenagers. We have to love each other as adults. Don’t you get that?”
“I’m not trying to fight. It’s just such a long time…” His voice cracked.
“It is for me, too. And I hate that I’m saying this to you. But I’m not good enough for you, Bryce. Not yet, anyway. Please give me a chance to be, okay?”
He said nothing. Instead, he gently brushed the moisture from my cheeks. “Ocracoke,” he finally whispered.
“What?”
“On your twenty-fourth birthday, let’s plan to meet at the beach. Where we had our date, okay?”
I nodded, wondering if it would even be possible, and when he kissed me, I thought I could almost taste his sadness. Instead of staying with me, he helped me to
my feet and put his arms around me. I could smell him, clean and fresh, like the island where we’d met.
“I can’t help thinking I’m running out of days to hold you. Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that,” I whispered, feeling his body against my own, already knowing that the next goodbye would be even worse and wondering how I would ever get through it.
What I didn’t know then was that I would never get the chance.
Merry Christmas
Manhattan
December 2019
Seated at the table with the remnants of dinner in front of them, Maggie noted Mark’s rapt attention. Though the food had arrived about half an hour later than expected, they’d finished eating somewhere around the point in the story when she’d told him that she’d ridden with Bryce to drop off Daisy. Or rather, Mark had finished; Maggie had only picked at her food. Now it was coming up on eleven and Christmas Day was only an hour away. Remarkably, Maggie wasn’t exhausted or uncomfortable, especially compared to how she’d been feeling earlier. Reliving the past had revived her in a way she hadn’t expected.
“What do you mean you never got the chance?”
“Those Braxton Hicks I’d been having that Monday weren’t Braxton Hicks. They were actual labor contractions.”
“And you didn’t know?”
“Not at first. It wasn’t until Bryce left and the next one hit that the thought even crossed my mind. Because that one was a doozy. But I was still so emotional about Bryce, and because my due date wasn’t until the following week, I somehow tucked the thought away until my aunt got home. By then, of course, I’d had even more contractions.”
The Wish Page 30
