But I don’t let go of him. I can’t. I want to take each embrace, kiss, and touch and commit them to memory. I know when Fisher leaves, life’s never going to be the same, and I’m going to want to bring out my memories of this time together for the rest of my life.
Eventually I let him go.
“Pool,” I say.
“Don’t forget wings.”
I laugh. “How could I forget the wings.”
After we win the two games, Rosey comes up to me and slings an arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass.”
“That’s okay. I know you only have good intentions.”
“Honestly, I’m so happy I met Byron, and it’s so completely unbelievable that I did. It shouldn’t have worked and we had the odds stacked against us. It just makes me want the same thing for everyone in the world.”
“I get that.”
“Wanna meet me at Grizzly’s again on Friday?” she asks. “Donna, Beth, Marge, and I are having a girls’ night. Wanna join?”
I want to say yes. I like Rosey, and hell, I know I’ll need a distraction. Mom will babysit. I’m just not sure I’ll want to do much in the days following Fisher leaving. “That’s so kind of you to invite me. I’ll see if I can get a sitter.”
“It’s been great getting to know you while Fisher’s been here.”
“You too, Rosey.”
I look over at Fisher chatting to Byron, and he turns to meet my gaze as if he could tell I was looking at him.
“Okay, we need to go now,” I say. For a second, I expect him to suggest we stay for one more drink, but as soon as he starts in my direction, I wonder why I doubted he’d want to leave.
We head out and back into the truck. Fisher looks at me expectantly.
“Where else to go but the falls?” I ask.
“I was hoping you would say that,” he replies.
“You must have guessed, given the cooler I had you load into the truck.”
“I had a tiny inkling,” he says, grinning as he puts Byron’s truck into drive.
I roll down the window and the breeze that fills the cab is warm and full of summer.
“It’s a perfect night,” he says.
Is it, I think, but I don’t say anything.
“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he says.
I glance across at him and realize that me not saying how I’m feeling is what he fears most: people not showing him exactly who they are.
“What areyouthinking?” I counter.
“I asked first.” He smiles but there’s a nervousness about it I’m not used to with Fisher. What’s he scared of? That I’ll tell him that I want him to stay? That I won’t?
“I’m thinking that I wish AC in cars was never invented,” I say, as we pull up to the parking area by the falls. “I think we should always have to wind our windows down in summer. I think it’s good for the soul or something.”
“Oh, yeah. I agree. Except not if you live in New York City. Then when you’re stuck in traffic on Broadway, an open window is the last thing you need.”
Immediately I start to wonder if he’s saying more than his words. Is he telling me New York City isn’t a place I’d want to go? Or is he saying he doesn’t want to go back and needs a reason to say?
