“Have you ever been to Walloon Lake?” I asked in between bites, referring to the small town north of us.
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s where Hemingway spent his summers, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve been there a few times but last summer I kayaked it. It was cool to see it from another perspective. To see the places he walked, where he fished and camped, it's awe-inspiring. I actually contacted the owner a few years back for a tour, it's still in Hemingway's family.”
“You actually had a personal tour of Hemingway's boyhood home?” She'd set her fork down and now watched me. I loved that I could share these things with her. Mel had never bothered to hide her disinterest when I geeked out over books and writing.
“Mhmm.” I nodded. “His nephew owns it, and weirdly enough, you can kind of see the resemblance. Anyway, it's been in the family since the Hemingway's first bought it in the eighteen nineties. They've done some updates, but they've tried to keep it as close to the original as possible. Wood paneling and floors, and a massive fireplace in the main room.”
“Wait, you know his nephew?” Auburn’s eyes widened to a size that rivaled the pancakes on her plate.
“It’s a long story but yeah, I’ve become friendly with him. He and his wife are both incredibly kind and even shared a few family stories about visiting him in Cuba and everything. It was an incredible experience. We should go sometime. I can’t believe I didn’t think about it before when it’s practically in our backyard.”
“I would love that.” She beamed, and the best part, I believed her.
“So, why the treat?” I finished my last bite and leaned back in my chair, anxious to settle into my first cup of coffee.
“I wanted to make you breakfast before I left. I’ll miss you...miss being in the same town as you. I know we didn’t see each other that much, but I wanted to do one last thing…” She paused as the ramifications of her leaving vibrated through the apartment kitchen.
“About that…” I paused as my mind bounced back and forth with the ramifications of what I was about to say.
“I'd like to try to continue as we’ve been. Seeing each other when we can, I know it will be less with classes, but we can try.”
Her big almond eyes held mine for long moments as she digested my words. A slow nod finally broke the stillness. “I would love that too,” she whispered, eyes holding my own.
“When I'm with you. I’m me. You’re the only person I can really be me with. I know it’s selfish, but I’m not ready to let go of us yet.” I leaned across the small table as I finished.
“I’m not ready to let go either.” Her eyes shimmered with emotion as they held mine. I nodded, settling into the comfort of knowing this wouldn't be goodbye, not yet. “I’ve got to get to Gram’s house.” She stood and cleared our plates from the table.
I set my cup down and stood behind her at the kitchen counter as she gazed out the window overlooking downtown. “How is she?” I placed heavy palms on her shoulders and kneaded.
“She's in good spirits, I think it helps that I hang out with her all the time. I try to keep things lighthearted and funny, and remind her that a little limp when she walks makes her bad ass.” She laughed until tears flooded her eyes and she broke down.
“I'm sorry, all of this has been so hard on you and I was so wrapped up in my own shit I forgot to ask how you were doing.” I pulled her into a tight embrace and held her while she sobbed into my shirt. We stood for minutes in the silence as I rubbed her back and let her cry.
“I'm going to miss you so much,” she croaked.
“I'm going to do everything I can to make this work.” I cradled her face in my palms, forcing her to meet my eyes. “I promise.”
She sniffed again. “I should go.” She swiped at the drying tears clinging to her eyelashes.
“Ok.” I stroked her angled cheekbones with the pads of my thumbs, searching her face for some sense of reassurance that I could let her walk out that door and she would be okay. I wanted nothing more to hold her in my arms the entire day, but I knew she wouldn't leave her grandma alone.
“Thanks for letting me stay.” She rinsed out her coffee cup and placed it in the sink.
“I love having you with me.” I wrapped her in another embrace in the doorway. She smiled, a little somberly, and then tossed her purse over her shoulder. “What day do you leave for school?”
“Tuesday.” She fiddled with her keys.
“I want to see you before you leave but I'll be out of town this weekend.” I frowned, cursing the prior commitment that kept me from her.