So it stayed that way for a lot of years, until circumstances and proximity changed us. I wanted it to be for the better, and for a while it had been. Losing him a few months ago and all the work we’ve had to do to get our friendship back has made me skittish to make any more changes.
But I know that we can’t erase where we’ve been, so all we can do is move forward and see where this new path takes us.
Each stop brings with it more memories, all the reasons we’ve been so compatible over the years. Why living together was never a challenge for either of us, why it was so easy to call him my best friend.
There’s an ornament waiting for me at the Christmas All Year store, my favorite shampoo and conditioner at the holistic store I love to visit and Declan swears always smells like someone just smoked a joint. I almost start crying when I stop at the sporting goods store we frequent and find a jersey waiting for me with my name and number on the back. I needed a new one after last season and hadn’t bothered to place an order because I wasn’t sure when I was going to be able to play again.
The last stop is my favorite restaurant. It’s not fancy, but it serves the lobster-bacon mac and cheese I love so much. When I reach the host stand, I look around and spot Declan in the booth in the corner—the one we always sit in when we come here.
He slides out of the booth and runs his hands down the front of his pants. He’s wearing jeans and a shirt I bought him for Christmas last year. I drop my bag of treasures on the bench seat and wrap my arms around his waist, absorbing his warmth. I feel the soft press of his cheek against the top of my head and the steady beat of his heart in my ear.
“That was so much fun. I haven’t been on a scavenger hunt since—”
“Freshman year.” He links his pinkie with mine. “Come on, I bet you’re starving.”
“Absolutely.”
There’s already a pint of my favorite beer sitting at the table, freshly poured. I slide into the booth and instead of sitting on the other side, Declan slides in beside me. We’re barely in the booth when a server delivers a basket of fried pickles and a plate of nacho chips.
I prop my cheek on my fist and smile at him. “I can’t even imagine how much planning went into this.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit. I had a lot of help from the guys and your sisters.” He pulls out a gift-wrapped box. “I have one last thing for you.”
I move my pint and the plates out of the way.
“Your wrapping jobs are the best.” I run my fingers along the edge of the blue ribbon. One year we volunteered with our soccer team to help wrap presents for the elderly. They loved Declan, and at least three of the women sat him down and gave him one-on-one lessons in gift-wrapping. They also brought him an endless supply of cookies so he could keep his energy up for all that grueling work and the risk of paper cuts.
I teased him relentlessly for it. But we went back in the years that followed, and during the holidays he would bring little wrapped gifts to those women. He didn’t just drop the gifts off and leave, he’d stay for tea and cookies and basically make their entire month with that half-hour visit and pretty packaged gift.
He shrugs. “It’s a valuable, underrated skill set.”
I carefully unwrap the box, trying not to tear the paper, but my hands are shaking for whatever reason, so I’m unsuccessful. I lift the lid and find a photo book inside the box. The front cover is a picture of Declan and me together, my arm around his waist and his around my shoulder from that first day of college when we went on the scavenger hunt together and kicked everyone’s asses.
I flip through the book, stopping to read the captions under each photo, when and where it was taken, and why it’s a special memory. There are so many great moments cataloging our friendship and our history.
I stop when I reach a photo of me caught mid-laugh, sitting in this very booth, a pint in front of me, and a half-empty plate of lobster-bacon mac and cheese pushed off to the side.
“Do you know why I picked this place, apart from the food?”
I glance at the date before he can cover it with his palm and consider his question and the picture. “That was the day I agreed to buy the condo with you?”
Declan smiles. “It was.”