Page 93 of Holding On

Waiting.

It only takes a few minutes for Travis to see them.

He wipes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then drops his hand. “Those are for me? Is that right?”

I shrug. “I guess those are for you.”

He looks at the pile of stones, puts his hands on his hips, and stares out at the sea. He brings his hand to his face again and wipes his eyes a second time. “This is a lot. Shit. These are hers?”

I nod.

He runs his hands over the stones. There are at least twenty, with the largest one maybe two feet long and half a foot wide. It’s a beautiful piece of granite, dark charcoal gray with a thread of quartz running diagonally and off-center.

That becomes what will be the foundation. He makes sure that it’s secure and then selects the next, running his hands over the surface, making sure that gravity will be enough to do the job. One by one, he stacks until the cairn stands nearly four feet high.

“It’s not art,” he says finally, standing back and looking at his work.

The sun is starting to dip, the sky growing rosy and thin with pale purples beginning to spread. The north star has already winked into view.

I rise and hold him around his waist, being mindful to keep my touch light. “I think it’s art.”

“I’m pretty lucky,” he says. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. “I’ve been able to be with two mothers today.”

Then he takes my head in his hands and kisses me fully, deeply. I want to remember this moment forever. The warmth of his body. His mouth soft on mine. The wind in my hair. A hand at my back and the other cupping my cheek.

He sighs and draws me in with his arms.

“What are we going to do, Maya?”

It’s the first time he’s brought up the fact that we only have seven more weeks before I fly back to California and he returns to Tufts.

My heart thuds hard in my chest. Everything about him is intoxicating. It’s like I’ve taken a drug.

“Let’s not talk about it now,” I say.

For the first time in my life, I don’t want to plan ahead. I don’t want to strategize. I just want to be in the moment, holding on to him, and I don’t want to let go.