“They mean exactly the same thing,” he protested.
“No, they don’t. Wanting to be with someone is a positive thing. It’s about love and respect and desire. But not wanting to lose someone isn’t about those things. It’s about fear.”
“I do love you, though. And respect you—”
I reached for his hand to stop him. “I know. And I think you’re the most incredible, intelligent, kind, and handsome guy I’ve ever met. It scares me to think that I met the love of my life at sixteen, but maybe I have. And maybe I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by saying what I am. But I’m not right for you, Bryce. You don’t even really know me.”
“Of course I know you.”
“You fell in love with the marooned, sixteen-year-old pregnant and lonely version of me, who also happened to be just about the only girl in Ocracoke even close to your age. I barely know who I am these days and it’s hard for me to remember who I was before I got here. Which also means that I have no idea who I’m going to be when I’m a year older and I’m not pregnant. You don’t know, either.”
“That’s silly.”
I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking about ever since we met? I’ve been trying to picture who you’ll be when you’re an adult. Because I look at you and see someone who could probably be the president, if that’s what you set your mind to. Or fly helicopters or earn a million dollars or be the next Rambo or become an astronaut or anything else, because your future is unlimited. You have a potential that others can only dream about, simply because you’re you. And I could never ask you to give up those kinds of opportunities.”
“I told you that I could go to college next year—”
“I know you could,” I said. “Just as I know you’d always take me into account when you made that decision, too. But even that’s a limit and I couldn’t live with myself if I thought my presence in your life would ever take anything away from you.”
“How about if we wait a few years, then? Until I graduate?”
I raised an eyebrow. “A long engagement?”
“It doesn’t have to be an engagement. We can date.”
“How? We won’t be able to see each other.”
When he closed his eyes, I knew my earlier thoughts had been correct. There was something in him that didn’t only want but also needed me.
“Maybe I could go to school in Washington,” he muttered.
I could tell he was grasping, making it hard to go on. But I had no other choice. “And give up your dream? I know how much you’ve always wanted to go to West Point, and I want that for you, too. It would break my heart to think you gave up even one of your dreams for me. I want nothing more than for you to know I loved you enough to never take something like that away from you.”
“Then what are we going to do? Just walk away as though you and I never happened?”
I felt my own sadness expanding through me like an inflating balloon. “We can pretend it was a beautiful dream, one that we remember forever. Because we both loved each other enough to allow the other to grow.”
“That’s not good enough. I can’t imagine knowing that I’m never going to see you again.”
“Then let’s not say that. Let’s give it a few years. Meanwhile, you make decisions that are best for your future, and I’ll do the same. We go to school, we get jobs, we figure out who we are. And then, if we both think we want to give it another try, we can find each other and see what happens.”
“How long are you thinking?”
I swallowed, feeling the pressure behind my eyes begin to build. “My mom met my dad when she was twenty-four.”
“More than seven years from now? That’s crazy.” In his eyes, I thought I saw something like fear.
“Maybe. But if it works then, we’ll know it’s right.”
“Do we talk until then? Or write letters?”
That would be too hard for me, I knew. If I received regular letters, I’d never stop thinking about him, nor would he stop thinking about me. “How about a single Christmas card every year?”
“Are you going to date other people?”
“I don’t have anyone in mind, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But you’re not saying that you won’t.”
The tears began to fall. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’ve known all along that saying goodbye would be hard, and this is all I can think to do. If we’re meant to be, we can’t just love each other as teenagers. We have to love each other as adults. Don’t you get that?”
“I’m not trying to fight. It’s just such a long time…” His voice cracked.
“It is for me, too. And I hate that I’m saying this to you. But I’m not good enough for you, Bryce. Not yet, anyway. Please give me a chance to be, okay?”
He said nothing. Instead, he gently brushed the moisture from my cheeks. “Ocracoke,” he finally whispered.
“What?”
“On your twenty-fourth birthday, let’s plan to meet at the beach. Where we had our date, okay?”
I nodded, wondering if it would even be possible, and when he kissed me, I thought I could almost taste his sadness. Instead of staying with me, he helped me to my feet and put his arms around me. I could smell him, clean and fresh, like the island where we’d met.
“I can’t help thinking I’m running out of days to hold you. Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that,” I whispered, feeling his body against my own, already knowing that the next goodbye would be even worse and wondering how I would ever get through it.
What I didn’t know then was that I would never get the chance.
Merry Christmas
Manhattan
December 2019
Seated at the table with the remnants of dinner in front of them, Maggie noted Mark’s rapt attention. Though the food had arrived about half an hour later than expected, they’d finished eating somewhere around the point in the story when she’d told him that she’d ridden with Bryce to drop off Daisy. Or rather, Mark had finished; Maggie had only picked at her food. Now it was coming up on eleven and Christmas Day was only an hour away. Remarkably, Maggie wasn’t exhausted or uncomfortable, especially compared to how she’d been feeling earlier. Reliving the past had revived her in a way she hadn’t expected.
“What do you mean you never got the chance?”
“Those Braxton Hicks I’d been having that Monday weren’t Braxton Hicks. They were actual labor contractions.”
“And you didn’t know?”
“Not at first. It wasn’t until Bryce left and the next one hit that the thought even crossed my mind. Because that one was a doozy. But I was still so emotional about Bryce, and because my due date wasn’t until the following week, I somehow tucked the thought away until my aunt got home. By then, of course, I’d had even more contractions.”
“What happened?”
“As soon as I mentioned that they’d been coming more frequently and were a lot stronger, she called Gwen. By then, it was at least a quarter past three, maybe half past. When Gwen arrived, it took her less than a minute to make the decision to go to the hospital, because she didn’t think I’d make it until the morning ferry. My aunt tossed a bunch of things in my duffel bag—the only thing I really cared about was Maggie-bear—then called my parents and the doctor and we were out the door. Thank God the ferry wasn’t crowded and we were able to get on. I think that by then, the contractions were coming every ten to fifteen minutes apart. Usually, you wait until they’re five minutes apart before you go to the hospital, but the ferry and drive to the hospital was three and a half hours. A long three and a half hours, I might add. By the time the ferry docked, the contractions were coming four to five minutes apart. I’m amazed I didn’t squeeze the stuffing out of Maggie-bear.”