“How do people wind up hating each other? Because they don’t know when to quit.”
“They might not, but I do, and I’m so far away from that. Do you hate me?”
“No. No, of course I don’t hate you!”
“I don’t hate you either. We would never hate each other. I can tell.”
“You don’t know that. I think this would just go the way of all things. Even if it didn’t end up going like how my past…uh…did, I think it would still go to pot.”
“But you were telling me about your parents.” I’m getting desperate, and there’s a twinge in my voice that is sadder and more hopeless than I’ve ever heard myself sound. “They constantly support each other. They’ve made it, even though it hasn’t been easy. And so have my parents. They haven’t had the smoothest ride either, but they’re still on that ride. Together.”
“I just…I…”
“Alright. If you want me to move back to Pittsburgh, I’ll move back. If you want me to go, I’ll go. If you want me to stay out of your hair forever, I’ll do that. But I made a promise, and I’m going to keep it. Not for the car and not because it’s ingrained in me to earn something, but for me. Also, because my word means something, and I don’t give it lightly. I could have said no, I could have told your great-grandpa that it would never work out, and I could have said anything, but I said yes, and I shook on it. Even if I didn’t give a dang about the value of my word, I care about you. I care about you a ton, and I’m going to look after you.”
“I…I don’t need you to.”
“I know. But anything you ever do need, I’ll make sure you can always get in touch if you want to tell me to go. It’s your choice. I know this whole thing started like a giant mess that was barely contained, and now it’s just a mess that isn’t contained at all, but I’m in. I’m in, even if you’re not. Not in the creepy, I’ll try and force you to change your mind way but just in the way that I’ll always care about you.”
“Why? Why do you have to be so chicken leggin’ nice?” Esme wails. “You know this makes it really hard to tell you to take a literal hike. Or a plane ride. Or a car ride. Or whatever.”
“I don’t know. I guess my parents raised me right. You could tell them that one day if you want. But if not, I could tell them for you.”
“See? That’s too nice too!” Esme wails. “I was totally planning on telling you that this wasn’t going to work out, and I had a thousand, million, billion reasons why it wouldn’t work. I even had it all figured out. I thought I could be mad, then taper off and be understanding but firm, and then you’d be sad, maybe mad, and then understanding, and we’d go our separate ways where we wouldn’t have any angsty feelings for days and weeks and months on end. No one would be mopey because we’d understand that this was for the best. We would both admit that maybe we’re good physically, but the rest wouldn’t work out, and that would be okay. I thought that’s how this would go, all of it: tomorrow, the next day, and the next. I really thought so, but now…now…”
“Now?” Dear bacon bits, it hurts to hope.
“Now, I don’t know. I thought things could be easily wrapped up.” Esme sighs. “No, I don’t know because I didn’t really think that. I thought that you leaving and never seeing you again would hurt like heck on a deck, but I refused to let myself consider the possibility because then I wouldn’t be able to do the right thing.”
“Esme…” I start as I gently set Connie aside on the couch. She’s sleepy, and she stays curled into a fluffy little ball. I then move to stand, and a few steps take me right to Esme. She doesn’t move, and she doesn’t run. “No one can truly know what the right thing is. I think you just have to do what you feel is right and run with that. If we try and make it right, it will be right, but if we don’t try at all, then it won’t. If we give up now, there’s no way anything could be right because we’re not working for it or trying. Anyway, I feel like this is right. I really felt like all of this was far more right than it should have been, even with your escaping tarantula, Silas’s wild idea, and how much you didn’t like me. I was so far from home, but when I walked in here, I did miss it, though I never felt like I wasn’t home either. I was without everything I thought was important to me, at least material-wise, but I stopped worrying and thinking about it. The car? I mean, it still matters to me, but it matters a lot less than I ever thought it could. When I think about you, the car doesn’t matter at all. If I had to choose between staying here with you, even after such a short amount of time, and giving up my whole collection, it wouldn’t even be a choice. I’d give it up. Every single piece.”