“I have no idea. It isn’t like she chose for me to come there. She’s only doing this because she has to.”
I nodded, slowing for a light. “Well, you never know. She might surprise you,” I said. He did not look convinced, so I added, “Either way, don’t decide to pack it in the first night, or jump any fences. Give it a few days.”
“Right,” he said slowly, looking over at me. “Any other advice? ”
I switched lanes, merging onto the highway. It was so early, we had all the lanes to ourselves. “Well,” I said, “if there’s some annoying neighbor who tries to make nice with you, don’t be a total jerk to them.”
“Because you might need them later,” he said. “To take you out of the woods, or something.”
“Exactly.”
I felt him look at me but didn’t say anything as we came up to the airport exit. As I took it, circling around, I could see a plane overhead—just a sliver of white, heading up, up, up.
At the terminal, even at this early hour, there were a fair amount of people, heading off, arriving home. The sun was coming up now, the sky streaked with pink overhead as we unloaded his stuff, piling it on the curb beside him. “All right,” I said. “Got everything?”
“Think so,” he said. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Well, I did kind of owe you,” I said, and he smiled. “But there is one more thing, actually.”
“What’s that?”
“Even if you do make tons of new friends,” I told him, “try not to forget where you came from, okay?”
He looked down at me. “I seriously doubt that could happen.”
“You’d be surprised,” I told him. “New place, new life. It’s not hard to do.”
“I think,” he said, “that I’ll have plenty to remind me.”
I hoped this was true. Even if it wasn’t, all I could do was hand over what I could, with the hope of something in return. But of course, this was easier said than done. Ever since Christmas, I’d been trying to come up with the perfect gift for Nate, something phenomenal that might come close to all he’d given me. Once again, I thought I had nothing to offer. But then I looked down and realized I was wrong.
The clasp of my necklace was stubborn at first, and when I took the key to the yellow house off, I noticed how worn it was. Especially in comparison to the bright, shiny new one to Jamie and Cora’s, which I slid onto the chain in its place. Then I took Nate’s hand, turning it upward, and pressed them both into his palm.
“Well,” I said, “just in case.”
He nodded, wrapping his hand around the necklace, and my hand, as well. This time, I let my palm relax against his, feeling the warmth there and pressing back, before stepping in closer. Then I reached up, sliding my hand behind his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, closing that space between us once and for all.
In the weeks since, Nate and I had been in constant contact, both by phone and on UMe.com. My page, long inactive, was now not only up and running but full of extras, thanks to Olivia, who helped me set it up and tweaked it on a regular basis. So far, I’d only accrued a few friends—her, Nate, Gervais, as well as Jamie, who sent me more messages than anyone—although I had lots of photos, including a couple Nate had sent of him at his new job, lifeguarding at a pool near his mom’s house. He was swimming every day now, working on his times and getting back into shape; he said it was slow progress, but he was seeing improvements, bit by bit. Sometimes at night in my room when I couldn’t sleep, I imagined him in the pool, crossing its length again and again, stroke by even stroke.
In my favorite picture, though, he’s not in the water but posing in front of a lifeguard stand. He’s smiling, the sun bright behind him, and has a whistle around his neck. If you look really closely, you can see there’s another, thinner chain behind, with something else dangling from it. It was hard to make it out, exactly. But I knew what it was.
Chapter Twenty
“Ruby? You about ready?”
I turned, looking over my shoulder at Cora, who was standing in the door to the kitchen, her purse over her shoulder. “Are we leaving?” I asked.
“As soon as Jamie finds the camcorder,” she replied. “He’s determined to capture every moment of this milestone.”
“You have to document important family events!” I heard Jamie yell from somewhere behind her. “You’ll thank me later.”
Cora rolled her eyes. “Five minutes, whether he finds it or not. We don’t want to be late. Okay?”
I nodded, and she ducked back inside, the door falling shut behind her, as I turned back to the pond. I’d been spending a lot of time out there lately, ever since the day a couple of months earlier when I’d come home from work to find her and Jamie huddled over something in the foyer.
“Jamie. Put it down.”
“I’m not opening it. I’m just looking.”
“Would you stop?”
I came up right behind them. “What are you guys doing? ”
Cora jumped, startled. “Nothing,” she said. “We were just—”
“You got a letter from the U,” Jamie told me, holding up what I now saw was an envelope. “I brought it in about an hour ago. The anticipation has been killing us.”
“It was killing Jamie,” Cora said. “I was fine.”
I walked over to where they were standing, taking the envelope from him. After all I’d heard and read about thick and thin letters, this one was, of course, neither. Not bulky, not slim, but right in the middle.