Page 27 of Goodbye Days

“I don’t really want to.”

“It’s what I’d do if I were you.”

“Are you talking to someone? Professional?”

“Not besides my parents. But I would if I were having panic attacks.”

We sit there for a while without saying anything.

“I’m sorry this night’s turned into such a bummer,” I say. “It was supposed to be fun. Getting back to normal a little bit. Doing the tradition.”

“You knew Eli. Did you think all our dates were rainbows and ponies and ice cream?”

“No.”

“Not that this is a date.”

My face reddens. “I know.”

Thankfully, Jesmyn doesn’t acknowledge my embarrassment. “We talked about real shit that matters. I’m not scared to have genuine conversations.”

“Me neither.”

“Then this friendship has a shot, I guess.”

“I hope.”

We settle into a comfortable silence and watch the sky darken, the sun setting. The breeze is soft, as though the day’s breathing is slowing before it sleeps.

When I finally speak again, it’s not to fill the lull but because I want to talk. “Blake’s grandma invited me to spend one more day with her. I guess we’d do the things she wishes she and Blake had gotten to do together for his last day on Earth. Try to re-create his personality or story or whatever.”

“How would that work?”

“Never done one.”

“That sounds tough. Like emotionally.”

“Oh, I’ve considered that.”

“Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure.” I want to tell her how hungry I am for some absolution. But that would be an admission of guilt, and right now, that’s my secret, a box of snakes under my pillow. I also want to tell her how afraid I am that I won’t be able to do Blake’s story justice and that’s what’s making me hesitant.

A few moments slip by. “You ever been to the beach in November?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“I have. Once. My aunt got married on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. In November. Georgia and I were so excited to be going to the beach. We packed swimming suits and everything.”

“Isn’t it way cold?”

“Our parents tried to tell us that, but we didn’t listen. Anyway, we get there and everything is closed. Nobody around. The beach is freezing. But you couldn’t tell how cold the beach was by looking. There aren’t leafless trees there or anything. The ocean looks the same; everything looks the same. So it could be summer, except that the beach is deserted and everything’s closed. It’s a really sad and lonely feeling.”

Jesmyn tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I bet.”

“That’s me now, inside. Beach-in-November.”

Jesmyn stands. “Come with me.”