“Anyway, one day, I went over to his house after school. He and my grandma sat me down and told me that they had just found out he had stage four cancer and didn’t have long to live. He died a week later.”
Charlie gasps.
“I hadn’t realized how much of a source of stability he’d been in my life until he was gone. But Ihadrealized how much I loved and appreciated him. And how much I loved spending time with him. When he was gone, it made me realize that life isn’t predictable. That it isn’t always stable, even when it seems like it always will be, and that the more you love someone, the more it’ll hurt when they go away. And that they will always go away.”
I feel the sting of his loss all over again, just telling Charlie about it.
Charlie doesn’t say anything right away. She just reaches over and lays a hand gently on my arm. “He sounds like the kind of person anyone would be lucky to grow up with. I’m so sorry you lost him,” she says softly. “That kind of loss… it gets in your bones, doesn’t it? You can move forward, but it never really stops mattering.”
I meet her eyes, which are lit up in the darkness by the soft glow of the flashlight. I can tell that she truly gets it.
Before I get a chance to ask more, though, she says, “Okay, I think maybe it’s time to lighten things up. Tell me something you love about work.”
I swallow and then clear my throat. “Working with my hands. It reminds me that I have control over my own future.”
“Ooh, I like that. Okay, mine is when I’m in the zone. I just feel as if I can do anything. Like I have super powers.”
“I have no doubt that you do. Okay, tell me something that makes you smile.”
“Live, outdoor music.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “There’s the community aspect of it, of course. Everyone coming together to hear the same thing, feeling the beat of the music deep in their chests. But I’m also so impressed that the band is willing to get up on stage and have all eyes on them. It’s inspiring. What’s something that makes you smile?”
“Getting an opportunity to use my vast knowledge of obscure or random historical facts, whetherit is for work, for writing epic poetry, or for winning trivia contests.”
“Really? I did not know this about you.”
“True story. I even won a trivia night once. It was highly prestigious. I think it took place in a bar called something like Ale’s Well That Ends Well, and my trophy was a taxidermied squirrel wearing a crown. I still have it in a box somewhere.”
She’s laughing, which makes me laugh, and now I think we’re both just laughing as a byproduct of the sharing of emotional things we just did. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt this close to someone outside of my family.
We talk some more, but the more we do, the more Charlie yawns. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m just so tired from work.”
“You should get to bed. It’s the one thing that is easy to do during a power outage.”
We both stand and make our way toward the kitchen.
“Thank you for coming,” Charlie says. “I really don’t like being alone in the dark, and you made it so much better.”
“I’m happy to be your professional flashlight-holder slash emotional support neighbor anytime.” She smiles, and I add, “You made it better for me, too. Power or no power.”
We are standing in her kitchen, less than a footapart, and for there being no electricity, I can sure feel a buzz between us. My flashlight is aiming downward, so I can’t see her face as well, yet I’m still searching it. I think she can feel this thing between us, too.
We both jump when Reese opens the front door and drops her keys on a little table. “Why are you two hanging out in the dark? Oh. Power’s out,” she says as she tries to flip on a light. There’s a small pause as she walks toward us, followed by, “Oh!Sorry. You two were, um…I’m just going to head upstairs now.” Then she practically races to the stairs and runs up them.
I smile at Charlie and then brush my knuckles along the side of her jaw. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight, Owen.”
I head to our door cut in the plastic, and just as I reach it, Charlie says, “Wait!”
I turn around.
“Do you want to be my date at my brother’s wedding on Saturday?”
I grin. “I would love to.”
