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Goosebumps shoot up my arm, and it’s impossible to hide my body’s reaction to him. The longer he stands this close to me, touching me, holding me captive with his gaze, the harder it is to breathe. I want to reach out, and stroke his cheek. I want to taste his lush mouth. I want to curl inside his embrace, and feel the comfort of his warmth surrounding me.
But that won’t do me any good. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to be with me. So, I slip my hand out of his, and head to the closet for a broom.
“Do you hate me?”
His question stops me in my tracks.
Hate? Is that what he thinks this is? Would that make it easier for him?
With my back to him, I answer with the truth. “No.”
Glass crunches under his feet as he moves around the island to stand behind me, close enough so I know he’s there, but far enough that I can’t feel him. “You still have one more thing left on your list.”
“I’m doing it tonight. Figure I’ll stay up all night, and then sleep on the seven-hour train ride back into New York.” I peek over my shoulder at him. “Then I’ll be out of your life.”
“Charly, that’s not—”
“Everything all right in here?” Nana pokes her head through the doorway, craning her neck to assess the damage. “Bryce, you can handle this, right? Charly has a dinner to get back to.”
He rolls his lips between his teeth, and gives her a reluctant nod. “Of course.”
I don’t see Bryce for the remainder of the night. He stays busy in the kitchen, and Nana puts him on dish duty. She whisks me outside, and we sit in the wicker rocking chairs watching the sun sink into the pink and orange sky.
“How’s your hand?”
I give her a sad smile. “It’s not my hand that hurts.”
She nods before bringing her teacup to her lips. “I’ve been doing a lot of research since the festival last week.”
“Research?”
“About disabled people.” She skims her index finger around the rim of the cup. “Bryce was angry with me. He said a lot of things ... things I didn’t even know I was doing. I want to learn. I want to understand. I want to be better for him.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
“I’ve learned a lot from watching you with him, you know.”
My eyebrows lift. “Me?”
“You look at him differently than I do. You don’t look at him like he’s fragile. You let him tell you what he wants, what he needs. That’s why he opened up to you. I got to see him come out of his shell this summer, and it’s because of you.” She extends her hand over her armrest, and I reach out to clasp it. “Thank you for making him so happy.”
A ball of emotion lodges in my throat. “Obviously I didn’t do enough. Otherwise he wouldn’t have pushed me away at the end of it all.”
“Oh, you did more than enough, my dear. Don’t put this on yourself. This isn’t because of something you did, or didn’t do. Do you hear me? This is something Bryce has to face.” She squeezes my hand, giving it a firm shake. “Just like your father didn’t leave because of you, and just like your mother didn’t die because you didn’t do enough to cure her. There are things you can’t control, no matter how hard you try to. Stop putting such a heavy weight on your shoulders. You try your best, and your best is always enough because it’s what you are made of. Remember what I told you when you first came to Sunnyside? The people who choose to leave you weren’t meant for you. Let them go, and keep moving forward.”
My voice tembles as I speak. “I thought Bryce was meant for me.”
She smooths her thumb over the top of my hand. “I wouldn’t count him out just yet. I think he still has a lot of demons to work through—and that’s something you can’t snap your fingers to make better.”
Beatrice is right. No matter what I do, sometimes my best isn’t enough for some people. And that’s not my fault. It doesn’t mean I’m the one lacking. My father had his own struggle with addiction to work through, and my mother’s cancer couldn’t be beaten by the best doctors in the city. Whatever Bryce is going through is bigger than him not being able to put his faith in me, or in what we have. Everyone’s fighting their own fight, and it’s not as personal as we perceive it to be. We can’t make anyone do or want or feel the same things we do. All we can do is love them, and hope they do the work to overcome it.
“I have one final question for you, my dear.” Beatrice turns to me. “When you first came to Sunnyside, I told you this place would heal you. Do you feel like that’s true?”
I let my head fall back against the chair as I gaze up at the darkening sky. “I do. I definitely came here for an escape, to lick my wounds. But it’s been more than grieving the loss of my mother. I feel like I worked through some of the pain I’ve been holding on to regarding my dad. I don’t feel so angry with him. Honestly, I feel sad for him, and I wish I knew if he’s okay now. If he’s still around.”
“Maybe you’ll find him someday. Lots of people reconnect with long lost family members.”
“Maybe.” I look into Beatrice’s kind eyes. “Most of all, I had the time of my life here. I’ll never forget this summer. I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality, and for your friendship.”
