30
Gavin
My head’s a mess.Diving in Bali, surfing in South Africa, cliff diving in New Zealand, no matter where I go or how fast I run, I can’t get away from the fact that I can’t run away from myself. No matter which country I’m in, no matter what river I’m rafting or what plane I’m jumping from, I can’t escape the fact that every time I close my eyes, the only place I want to be is with my family.
Which leads to swear words, jumping on another plane, and seeking another adrenaline rush, because Jamie and the kids aren’t my family.
Somewhere between Jeju Island and flying to Patagonia, I realized that not even taking a rocket to the moon would get rid of the feeling that the only place I really wanted to run was back to an old A-frame on top of a remote mountain in West Virginia.
So twenty-two days into my self-propelled adrenaline-hunting frenzy around the world, I land back in New York, tired, jet-lagged, and determined to see the one person in the world who might be able to sort this whole mess out.
I hurry through the international terminal at JFK, dodging a family of five wearing fleece pajamas and lugging matching hot-pink suitcases. I tune out the constant stream of overhead announcements and the smell of garlic bagels, lukewarm pizza under warming lights, and coffee. I tune out the chaos of the terminal and the fact that I haven’t slept in nineteen hours. I just need to make it to the exit, then to Romeo.
“Gavin?”
I brush past another group of travelers, talking so loudly their voices echo off the walls and the tile floors.
“Gavin? What are you doing here? I thought you never flew commercial.”
I shake my head. Then turn when I realize that Lacey is here, in JFK, tugging on my sleeve, talking to me.
A man only slightly taller than Lacey, with glasses and curly hair, stands next to her, his arm around her waist. It takes me a minute to process everything. This is the first time I’ve seen Lacey since she gave me back her ring. She looks good. I’ll amend that. She looks happy. Seeing her pink cheeks, the lightness of her expression, the way she smiles, I realize three things. One, I never made Lacey this happy, never made her glow like this. Two, I don’t feel a trickle of want or love for her, I’m just pleased she’s happy. Three, she and I were never meant to be.
The man sizes me up. It’s apparent he knows exactly who I am. He doesn’t need to worry, Lacey clearly is happier with him than she ever was with me. She lifts an eyebrow expectantly.
“I meant to call and apologize for how things ended. I felt guilty about the things I said, but your phone always went to voicemail, and then I reconnected with Abe at a conference and well…” She looks over at Abe and gives a goofy, love-sick smile, one she never, ever gave me, and then I see the engagement ring on her finger.
“Congratulations.” I nod at the ring. “I’m happy for you.”
Lacey’s eyes light up. “Thank you. I hope we can stay friends.”
Lacey might hope that, but by the look on Abe’s face he clearly doesn’t. I’m guessing he’d like me gone, the faster the better. I’m with him, I’m itching to get to Romeo.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Lacey says, looking around at the crowded, noisy terminal.
“I was in South Korea and had to get back, it was faster to fly through JFK than—”
“I see you haven’t changed.” Lacey gives me a wistful smile. “Always on to the next adventure. Always on the run.” She lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re like that. When Abe and I have our kids, and then grandkids, I’m sure I’ll be envious of you out there exploring the world on your own.”
I nod, the roar of the people in the terminal echoing around in my skull. It’s a terrible picture, me at seventy, completely alone.
I’m not. I’m not meant to be alone. I’m not.
I lift my hand and give a stiff smile. “Congratulations, again. Nice meeting you, Abe. Bye, Lacey.”
Lacey seems surprised I’m leaving, but Abe just lifts his hand in farewell. I hurry past, and as I go, I hear Abe, “He seemed nice enough. I thought he’d be arrogant, and—”
Whatever he says fades in the din of the terminal. And it doesn’t matter. I’m hurrying through the hallways, making my way north.
* * *
“Twenty-two days?You lasted longer than I expected.” Will smirks at me, and I try not to stare, because even though he’s in a suit, looking stiff and supercilious, Jessie is currently perched on his lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. I’m pretty sure Jessie realizes how ridiculous it looks, her in a bright yellow polka-dot dress, Will in his stiff business attire, a smudge of her lipstick on his neck. She grins at me and winks.
I scoff and shake my head.
Apparently, I interrupted something when I busted into the old family house in good old Romeo, New York.
“I figured you’d take longer to come to your senses. You Williams boys are hard-headed.” Jessie settles against Will’s chest. He looks as if he’s about to argue the point but then shrugs.