“I know you’re only a few weeks out of your marriage. We could take it at any pace you’re comfortable with.” He smiles. “Slow-boat-to-China pace if that’s what you want.”
There’s a crazy part of me that wants to say yes, to plunge in and allow myself moments of pure pleasure right now, but I’ve vowed to be smarter about the choices I make.
“It just feels too soon for me,” I say. “I still have a lot of thinking to do—about decisions I made and so much more. Plus, you’re here and I’m in New York, and I just don’t ever want to do the commuter thing again. It’s not that I have anything against that kind of arrangement, per se, but it probably hindered me from seeing what I needed to see with Guy.”
He smiles again, this time with just one side of his mouth tugged up.
“Would January be too soon?”
“What?”
“I’ve promised myself that, come hell or high water, I’ll be in New York after the fall term ends. Teaching, writing, whatever.”
Nice, I think instinctively. Something to look forward to, something that may be good. I can’t help but laugh.
“That sounds very enticing. Maybe you can take the train to New York at the end of the summer and we can discuss it over a long lunch.”
He hugs me and kisses me tenderly on the cheek. I feel myself flush a little, and I’m grateful for whatever this crazy thing I have with him is.
I tell him that he should leave first because I’m going to make a call from the car. We hug again, and a moment later, as he pulls out of his parking space, we wave good-bye to each other. I don’t really have a call to make. I simply want a few minutes to decompress and gather my thoughts. A lot can happen between now and January, but who knows. The idea of it fills me with hope.
Finally I ease out of the parking lot and pull out onto the rural road that will take me to the Adirondack Northway. The chance of running into Guy on this leg of my journey is slim, but still I regularly check the rearview mirror for a dark blue BMW, and tense each time a car heads in my direction.
For a stretch, I’m the only car on the road. It’s going to be okay, I reassure myself. I’ll be in Albany in less than thirty minutes and back in New York by noon tomorrow. Except at a mediation table and possibly in a courtroom, I won’t ever have to face Guy again.
Just as I feel my body relax, a dark red shape darts from the woods to the right and streaks in front of the car. I hit the break. It’s a squirrel and I’ve missed it by inches. I sigh, grateful not to have crushed it.
And then, without warning, I’m shaking, shaking so much that my hands bounce off the steering wheel. And I’m crying, too. I have no idea in hell what’s going on.
I ease the car over to the shoulder of the road and jerk the gear into park. Every inch of me is still trembling.
Then the memories unfurl. Snippets one after the other.
Paul and I on the road. I’m raking my hand through my hair, which was long then and to my shoulders. He’s just told me the news—about Guy and Dallas.
“There’s got to be a mistake, Paul,” I say. “It has to be someone else.
“That’s possible, of course. But I saw the photo of him. Why don’t I let you talk to my friend?”
I shake my head, not so much against the idea but because I can’t take it all in. What if it’s true? No, it can’t be.
“We’ll sort this out, Bryn,” Paul says. “And maybe it’s all a terrible mistake. I just wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t told you.”
He directs his full attention back to the highway. I can even see the road in my mind. For some reason the traffic is light on this stretch, and we have the road briefly to ourselves. I sit there, brooding in silence, wondering what to do.
And then, out of nowhere, a dog, golden brown, sprints across the highway. Paul swerves to avoid it, and we go careening off the road.
My shaking subsides, but tears keep rushing down my face. I make a feeble attempt to brush them away with the side of my arm.
Finally I know. I know why Paul lost control of the car that day. He didn’t do it intentionally. And I didn’t distract him in some terrible way with my concerns. It was nobody’s fault, just a horrible accident that cost a wonderful man his life.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. At last, I think. No more secrets.
Acknowledgments
I really enjoyed researching this book, in part because it meant spending time in the charming city of Saratoga Springs in upstate New York. I also interviewed a bunch of people on other subjects I touched on in the book, and I’m so appreciative of all the time they gave me.