My Bittersweet Summer (27 page)

“Or,” I said, lifting my mug in a toast, “you can save up and come see me in Paris. I’ll make cookies, and you can buy the wine.”

Laughing, she lifted her cup and clinked it against mine. “That sounds perfect. You got a deal.”

While hauling a rolling suitcase through the subway system and streets of New York City wasn’t the most fun thing in the world, I couldn’t help the bounce in my step as I made my way to the hostel on Varet Street. I called Angela the moment my train pulled into the station, excited to see her, Nadine, and Charlie after months apart. They’d only gotten there maybe fifteen minutes before me, and we spent a solid five minutes hugging and running our mouths before we went inside the building. Nadine had chopped all of her hair off into a pixie cut, and I spent a good chunk of that time gushing over how cute her bleached out blonde looked that way. Charlie, as laid back as ever, couldn’t help cracking jokes about them going to the same barber, as their styles were practically the same now.

Eventually we bustled through the big red entrance and up to the office window to check in. I paused for a moment to admire the policies and procedures painted on the white wall, all done in a style that looked like a subway map. The whole place screamed young, European traveler: the perfect way to prep for the life I’d be leading in a few short weeks.

The brunette at the desk smiled as I walked up. “Checking in?”

“Yes, ma’am. The reservation is under Margaret Walsh.”

She blinked at me a moment, then sat up straighter. “Walsh? Oh, of course. ID please?”

As she typed in the information for me and my friends, my mind was already five steps ahead of me, thinking about where we’d go for dinner, what we’d do the next day…

“And, just one last thing before you head to your room.” She stood up and walked to the other side of the small office, returning a moment later with a vase of bright yellow daffodils and a large manila envelope. “These were left earlier for you, Margaret. I told the courier I’d keep them until you checked in.”

I stared at the flowers, dumbstruck. “For me?”

Angela giggled. “Did you get a boyfriend in Carrinaw and forget to tell me, Margie?”

My mouth sagged open. It couldn’t be.

Angela continued laughing. “Well, don’t just stand there gaping. You can tell me every last detail once we put our stuff away.”

Charlie carried the envelope while I carted my bag and the vase of flowers to our private room. Charlie and Nadine grabbed the full-size bed, while Angela and I snagged the twins. After setting the vase on one of the small end tables, I sank down on the mattress with the envelope, not sure what the contents would hold. The others settled in, and I took a deep breath, opening the metal clasp holding the flap shut. Inside was a letter-sized envelope and several sheets of paper that looked to be some kind of list.

1. Turned down an easy date.

2. Spent 3 hours learning to carve flowers.

3. Turned down two more easy dates.

4. Took out the trash for Lettie.

5. Spent 30 minutes asking Lettie about her mom’s health.

6. Practiced Spanish with Rosie. Taught her some French.

7. Fixed the loose sign at the park.

8. Gave my old laptop to Rosie’s daughter for her college classes.

9. Spent 20 total hours to date practicing cutting techniques.

10. Asked Mr. Walsh for extra training on Mondays.

11. Researched micro-investing. Picked 7 to fund, one on each continent.

12…

The list went on and on, way past one hundred. By the time I hit fifty, the words blurred together, and I blinked away tears.

The carrot flowers.

Was that what the tags meant? Did they all signify something he’d done?

I set the papers on my lap and turned my face away, trying not to cry. As I did, I caught sight of the daffodils, but noticed something I hadn’t seen initially. In the center of the bouquet, nearly buried by yellow flowers, a single carved carrot poked up out of the arrangement, tiny sprays of orange petals bursting out in the most complex carving I’d seen in a long time.

“Margie?” Angela sat beside me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, my hands covering my mouth as I pinched my eyes closed. “He even remembered yellow was my favorite color!” I blurted out through a sob. “Why is he so dumb? I shouldn’t even like him! It’s all so stupid, and frustrating, and horrible, and wonderful, and I hate him for making me cry.”

“What are you talking about? He who?”

“Stupid Zach Robinson!” I blubbered against her shoulder.

It took about an hour, but I managed to get through the whole story of what had happened since my return to Carrinaw Island. By the time it was over, I was sitting in a pile of dozens of soggy tissues, scuffing my feet over the floor.

“Damn,” Angela said, scrubbing a hand across her forehead. “He did all that for you? I couldn’t even get my last boyfriend to pick me up from work when my car wouldn’t start. That’s crazy.”

“Stupid Zach Robinson,” I grumbled. “Ruining everything.”

“Ruining?” Nadine chuckled. “Oh, honey. That’s cute.”

I crossed my arms and made a face. “It’s not cute. I’m not supposed to like him. I’m leaving the country, remember? That’s in like two weeks, and then he goes and makes this big gesture, probably so I’ll just feel horribly guilty about it. We’re only supposed to be friends. That’s it. Friendship, Nadine. Friends don’t do stuff like send flowers to a hostel in a different town because they stalked the hell out of you to know where you’d be. Friends don’t make lists of all the stuff they did to try to impress you. Friends don’t try to be someone else to get you to like them. This isn’t friendship. This is… this is…”

Charlie sighed dramatically. “He loves you, Margie. Obviously. Can we go eat now? I’m starved.”

Frustrated, I flopped back on the bed, the used tissues bouncing as I landed. “Ugh. This is so…” My hand brushed against paper, and I looked over. The envelope was still sitting there, unopened. I picked it up and handed it to Angela. “I can’t even with this. You open it.”

She chuckled at me. “You’re ridiculous.”

I draped an arm over my eyes. “I’m exhausted. It’s been a long three months.”

I heard the paper tear as she opened the envelope, but she didn’t say anything at first.

“Holy crap, Margie.”

“What now? Did he open a food bank in my name or something?”

“Not exactly.”

Peeling back my arm, I looked at her. “What, then?”

She leaned over and waved a bunch of small cards at me. “Tickets. Tomorrow night for
Wicked
,
Les Mis
for our last night here.”

Grinding my teeth, I knew exactly how he got that information. “Freaking Destiny. So much for secrets between friends.”

Nadine busted up laughing. “Why in the hell are you mad, woman? If that rich boy wants to drop all that cash on you, why not let him?”

I sat up and glared at her. “Did you not listen to anything I said?”

“Yeah, for like an hour. And as far as I can tell, you totally earned this. Enjoy it, Margie. In two weeks you can tell him to shove off, but as far as this trip is concerned, don’t you dare not use those tickets. Thanks to him, we can see shows every night of this trip if we want. Don’t be stupid. He’s not even here to yell at.” She gave me a look that said the matter was already settled. “If nothing else, think about your friends.”

“So, I should just sell my soul for some Broadway tickets, and you’re okay with that?”

Angela sighed. “They’re just tickets, Margie. You need to relax. And, unless I missed a note buried under the Kleenex, he didn’t ask you for a dang thing with all this stuff.”

I sank into silence, pouting. Admitting they were right felt like too much of a concession to Zach.

Stupid Zach, with his stupid flowers, and stupid list, and stupid tickets, winding me up on the first day of a trip I’d spent months and months planning for.

Angela stood up and hauled me to my feet. “Come on, Mighty Mouse. Let’s go get food before Charlie’s stomach walks out of here without us.”

“And then there’s that stupid nickname. Why is he haunting me?”

She pushed me towards the door, refusing to let me damper her good mood. “You can brood later. Food now.”

*
 
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Seeing
Les Miserables
live on stage made the movie look like a joke. As I freshened up my runny eye makeup in the bathroom, I couldn’t remember the last time I watched something that made me sob nearly the entire way through.

“It looks fine. Can we go now?” Angela tugged at my arm. “I want to hit that tapas bar before it gets crowded.”

Taking one last swipe with the damp paper towel, I gave up on it. “Okay, okay. Just let me wash my hands. I’ve got eyeliner everywhere, and I am not about to stain this dress.”

“I wouldn’t be either.” She grinned at me. “For real, I’d probably be too scared to wear it. I can’t believe your parents could afford it.”

“That makes two of us.” I finished drying my hands and hooked her elbow, leading her out of the restroom. “But I’m kind of glad I brought it. Better memories this time.”

Nadine and Charlie met us in the lobby, and we headed out for our last evening in New York City. Even though I was sad it was ending, it really couldn’t have been a more wonderful trip, and I felt like I was glowing I was so happy.

But as we hit the street and turned left, I stopped.

Was I seeing things?

I spun around, looking at the other side of the theater exit where I’d seen him leaning up against the wall. There was no one there, but when I looked farther down the sidewalk…

He was walking away, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Zach?”

He stopped immediately, his shoulders tensing. Not sure what to do, I just stood there, looking at him as he turned, slowly, almost like he wasn’t certain he’d heard his name.

Angela sidled up to me, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Is that him?”

If someone had asked me how I thought I’d feel in that moment, my answer would’ve ranged between angry, terrified, and determined not to react. The reality was some awkward fluttery feeling that was a cross between light nausea and shock. So when she shoved me towards him, I was the absolute pinnacle of grace as I nearly tripped over a crack in the pavement.

“Go talk to him, stupid,” she hissed at me. “You forgot to mention that he was also smoking hot.”

“Ang!” I whispered back. “This is not the time for—”

She gave me a look. “At least go tell him thank you from me.”

Nadine and Charlie were no help at all, having dropped into their private mushy world off to the side. For a minute, it was like we were back in high school, with them pressed up against the locker next to mine. I doubted they were aware of anything else going on around them.

“Fine. Just give me a minute, okay?”

She grinned at me. “You take all the time you need, Mighty Mouse.”

I made a face at her, but composed myself, turning back to where I’d stopped Zach.

A little hesitant, I approached him, and we moved to one side to keep from blocking traffic. I pushed my hair behind an ear and adjusted the strap on my purse. “So… do I need to ask what you’re doing here?”

He stared at the sidewalk and shrugged. “Just wanted to see if you were having a good time. I didn’t want to, you know, interrupt or anything.”

“You are aware that this is sort of crazy stalker behavior, right?”

“Which is why I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t see me.” He winced. “And that doesn’t really sound any better. Sorry.”

I crossed my arms and considered him as we lapsed into silence. After I calmed down that first day in the hostel, I went back to his list and started reading again. While the first thirty items or so were likely stuff he thought
I
would’ve liked him to do, they had gradually changed, the things written down clearly not for anyone but himself. Things like spending time talking with his parents, learning more about what they did, how they ran their businesses and investments, reading books that people always said they’d get to someday but never did… Those were things for
him
. Somewhere, in all of his efforts to impress me, he’d figured out that it wasn’t about me at all.

“Do you…” I started, but paused.

Four in, eight out.

“Do you want to take a walk or something?”

“Nah, you should go hang out with your friends.” He waved it off. “I don’t want—”

“To interrupt, I know.” I glanced over at my friends and shrugged. “But I think they’ll understand.” I touched his arm and smiled. “Wait here a minute, okay?”

Trotting back to Angela, I tried not to look nervous. After all, I wasn’t at all sure a walk with Zach was a good idea.

“So,” I began with an apologetic look, “would you guys mind if I catch up with you later? I think I should talk to him. Just for, I dunno, maybe like an hour.”

Charlie shrugged while Nadine and Angela grinned at me.

“It’s not like that,” I grumbled. “One hour, and I’m yours again, okay?”

Angela shot a glance at Zach. “Text me in an hour. I’ll let you know where we’re at then.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Will do.” As I hurried back to Zach, I waved at them.

Without a destination in mind, we set off down the streets of New York City. Neither one of us apparently knew where to start the conversation, but one definitely needed to be had.

“Thank you for the tickets,” I said, picking the easiest place to begin after two blocks of walking. “I’m guessing Destiny told you which shows we were thinking about?”

Zach nodded, and we turned a corner. “Yeah, sorry I went behind your back. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I laughed, remembering my initial reaction. “Oh, it was definitely that.”

Three in, six out.

A little unsure of myself, I threaded my arm through his. “Look, I do appreciate what you’ve done, but—”