“I’m not sold on being friends. But I think maybe listening to him is the right move. To try and be in the same room again. It’s a small town.” She nodded, as though convincing herself. “I just want to be totally transparent with you. Figuring out what you and I can be together is my main concern right now. Not Kasen.”
I smiled, fascinated as always by her directness. “Okay.”
We stuck to benign topics for the rest of the meal. Marley hadn’t said so, but I suspected Kasen’s choice of big city life over their relationship weighed on her—the fact that she hadn’t been his priority. I wanted to show her just how important she was to me.
But we had to get through my reunion first.
Chapter eleven
Marley
Ispentthedaysbefore James’s reunion growing even more indignant on his behalf. He’d carried so much pain with him into adulthood.
I taught high school, so I knew better than most how cruel teenagers could be. Dealing with bullying within the school walls continued to be one of the hardest parts of teaching. Teachers could provide guidance, put a stop to behaviors we witnessed, and reinforce the kinder instincts of students like Nan—who’d been looking out for Daniel since the tree lot incident. Yet there would always be kids like Fel, who validated their own self-worth by making other kids feel like poop.
But watching it happen to teenagers, versus being confronted with its long-term effects on a twenty-eight-year-old man, were two entirely different things.
James and I had both gotten subs for Friday and planned to leave early that morning so we could make it to Seattle before dark. We’d be staying with his parents. I’d offered to get a hotel room, but he’d insisted.
“It’s not just to save money,” he’d said. “I need you with me for moral support.”
That made sense. If the reunion went poorly, he wouldn’t want to spend the night alone, trying to save face in front of his parents. From what he’d told me, he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with them about all he’d endured back then.
Before we left, I met up with Kasen. I didn’t want to have that looming in the background when I’d need to be fully present for James.
On Thursday, I arrived at The Landslide to find Kasen waiting in a two-person booth.
Katy looked up from taking an order on the other side of the room to raise an eyebrow at me. Like most of the town, she knew our history. She’d been the sophomore princess the year Kasen and I were on the senior prom court. I widened my eyes back at her and shook my head slightly, hoping she got the message to not read too much into the situation.
I walked over to Kasen, and he angled in like he might hug me, so I stuck out an arm to initiate a handshake. The air was uneasy at first, but as I slid into the booth and he smiled across the table from me, the familiarity of everything about him helped to fill in the awkward spaces.
He had on a blue plaid flannel and a pair of well-fitting dark Levi’s. His brown hair was different. Shorter on the sides and longer on top. Sophomore year of college, I’d dyed those curls green for St. Patrick’s Day. His lean physique carried more muscle than before, and I recalled a recent text exchange where he mentioned getting into strength training after hurting his knee playing basketball.
“Marley. Thank you for coming. I know this is weird, with everything that happened. But it’s so good to see you.” He smiled, noting my outfit. “I’ve missed your mom’s Christmas sweaters these past few years.”
I glanced down at my navy-blue cardigan with little snowmen doing breakdancing moves and grinned. “This was one of her favorites.”
“I remember. And I intentionally waited until we were in person to say this to you, but I want you to know how very sorry I am for your loss. I know how close you and Alice were. She was a great lady.”
There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. “Thank you.”
“I stayed away from the funeral like you asked me to, but I have to be honest—it was hard. I thought about you all the time after she passed.”
“Your parents told you?”
“Yeah. They showed me your letter.”
When it had become evident last September that my mom’s time was near, I had given his parents a letter for Kasen, letting him know I’d prefer it if he continued to stay away from me. That he not attend the service. At that point, we’d been apart for almost four years, and I’d told myself I didn’t need to add seeing him to an already stressful time. I’d figured he’d be wondering, and I’d wanted to make my wishes clear. He’d respected my request, but his parents had come to the funeral—along with most of Coleman Creek—and they’d passed on his condolences. That letter had been the sum of my direct interaction with Kasen since we’d broken up. But looking back on it now, I wasn’t sure I could justify the excuse for sending it. I’d been well over our breakup by that point. Why had I felt it necessary to order him to avoid the funeral?
“I appreciate you doing what I asked,” I said, still questioning my motivations internally. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“It wasn’t. I felt like a real dick, honestly, after we’d been together so long. And I know it’s nothing compared to what you endured, but I hope you realize how much I loved Alice.”
His point was well made. Kasen and my mom had had a great relationship. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I made my decision when I stayed in Portland. I know that.”
Katy came by, and we placed an order for beers and burgers.
