Anywhere (14 page)

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Authors: J. Meyers

BOOK: Anywhere
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It was funny because the more he described Josh, the more I felt he could have been describing himself. These things he admired in Josh? Asher was like that too. He just couldn’t see it.

We wandered down to the marketplace for lunch. The square was crowded with stalls selling fresh fruits and vegetables, cheeses, breads, and sweet treats. People were everywhere and I took hold of Asher’s hand so I didn’t lose him in the crowds. A cacophony of colors and sounds—I lost track of how many languages I heard—it was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. I’m not a big fan of crowds, but it was fun wending our way through, discovering what deliciousness the merchants had to offer.

We decided to picnic on the riverbank. Asher pulled a sheet out of his pack, lay it on the grass, and we spread out our feast. It was warm, even in the shade of the trees, and when we were done eating, Asher lay back on his pack and closed his eyes. I lay my head on his stomach, and he reached down and placed his hand on my head.

“It’s my fault he died.” He said it so quietly that at first I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

“What?”

“It was my fault.”

And what could I say to that? I knew nothing about the accident, he’d never gone into details about it. So I reached up and touched his hand if only to let him know I was there.

“How?” I said.

He looked at my hand on his, like he couldn’t bring himself to meet my eyes. “He was coming to visit me, driving down from Maine the week before graduation.”

“Oh, Asher,” I said, shaking my head slightly, “that doesn’t make it your fault. It was an accident.”

“If I hadn’t asked him to come, he would still be alive.”

I looked at him, my heart breaking for the pain on his face. “That doesn’t make it your fault. And from everything you’ve told me about Josh, I don’t think he’d blame you for even a nanosecond. And he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

He turned away and gazed up at the branches of the tree above us, silent for several minutes. When he spoke, there was a slight smile to his voice. “A nanosecond?” he said. “Josh really would have liked you.” He paused. “A lot.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely.”

“I wish I could have met him.”

Asher was quiet, then said, “Me, too.”

We lay there together, dozing on and off in the warmth of the afternoon.

Before we packed up our stuff and went in search of dinner, Asher pulled out his phone to call his parents and I checked messages. There were a couple of texts from Justin and Paige, but nothing from my mom. I hadn’t talked to her since Barolo, but had sent a quick text every day telling her where I was. There were several voicemails from her, but I hadn’t listened to them yet because I just didn’t want to hear it.

As I sent a quick response to Paige, I couldn’t help but overhear Asher’s call.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m in Switzerland.

“Bern. And it’s beautiful here.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine. I actually met someone and we’ve been traveling together.” He glanced over at me and smiled.

“I’m fine, Mom, really. How are you?

“I know. But today was always going to suck. I’m sorry I’m not there. I guess I should have planned this better, maybe stayed long enough to be there today. But…I don’t know…I guess I thought being over here would be a good way to honor him today. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how hard it would be on you.”

Asher’s mouth kind of collapsed, his jaw flexing with effort. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help watching him. I just wanted to fold him in my arms and make all the pain go away.

“Mom?…Mom?…

“Hey, Dad. Is she okay?

“Am I making it harder? Because that’s not what I wanted to do.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call again soon, I just really wanted to call today. I miss you guys.

“Love you, too. Bye.”

He looked at his phone for a moment, then stared off across the river, his mind far away. I watched people go by in the park, and waited for him to gather himself. When he finally turned to me, his eyes were glassy.

“You okay?” I said quietly.

He shook his head. “It was thoughtless for me to come on this trip now. I should have been with them today.” His voice broke. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking of honoring Josh in your own way. There’s nothing wrong with that, Asher. Did your parents ask you to stay or delay your trip?”

“No.”

“Then they knew you wouldn’t be there for his birthday. So that means they’re probably okay with this. Right?” He nodded hesitantly, looking like he wanted to believe me but wasn’t completely sold yet. “So even though it’s a rough day for them and they’re missing you, they’re probably glad that you’re here, that you’re doing this for yourself…and for Josh.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“They sound like really nice people, your parents.”

He nodded, smiled sadly. “They are. This has been really hard on them.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine.”

In that moment I really wished I’d known Asher’s brother, could meet his family. They seemed so unlike my own—so warm and close.

Everything I’d always wished my family would be.

That night, together again, Asher and I fell asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped together tight. I dreamed that he and I got on the wrong train, and that it took us far from Paris and London. I missed Paige’s wedding and felt a little bad in the dream, but was so relieved to stay with Asher that I didn’t care. We kept traveling and I never went home.

I woke up well rested for having slept through the night again, and feeling deliriously happy as the remnants of the dream drifted through my mind.

And then I remembered that I still had to leave.

And he still had to meet Tamara.

seventeen

MOM:
Call me NOW.

I stared at the text. Shit. She was up early, and she’d sent it about half an hour ago. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t ignore it. I looked at my voicemail—there were five messages from her and I still hadn’t listened to any of them.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

I did not want a repeat of our conversation from four days ago.

“You’re frowning,” Asher said from across the table. He put down his coffee cup. We’d slept in, and were catching a very late breakfast before we left for the day. “Everything okay?”

“My mom wants me to call her.”

“Not looking forward to stepping back into the lion’s den, huh?”

“Nope. Wasn’t on the to-do list for today.”

“Well, you know what they say. Better to get it over with quick. Just rip the bandaid right off.”

I sighed and called. He had no idea how fitting that analogy was—talking to my mom stung just as much as ripping off a bandage—especially one that took the skin off.

“Skylar.” She answered on the first ring, her voice like ice. She wasn’t even trying to hide her irritation. She used to. It used to be that when she was especially angry she’d get all sickly sweet, pretend she was concerned with my well-being rather than just pissed at what I’d done, how I’d embarrassed or disappointed her by going against her plans.

I took a deep breath—I was an ocean away.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t you
Hi, Mom
me. Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Do you have any inkling of what you’ve put me through the past week?”

“It’s been four days.”

“Don’t be smart with me.”

“And why were you worried? I texted you every day. You knew I was alive and well.” And not wanting to talk to you. My head was starting to hurt. I leaned my arm on the table and covered my eyes with my hand.

“Who was that man who hung up on me, Skylar?”

I peered through my fingers at Asher. He was studying the pamphlet about the bell foundry.

“A friend.”

There was silence on the other end. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and angry. “Skylar Grace, are you cheating on Blaine?”

And now it was my turn to be pissed.

“How could I possibly be
cheating
on him, Mother? We aren’t together anymore!”

“Things are still up in the air. You haven’t resolved anything here.”

Up in the air? Seriously? In an effort to keep from yelling at her, my words came out in a hiss. “I’m pretty sure that when I told him I didn’t want to marry him and left the country, THAT resolved things between us.”

“So there
is
something going on with you and this man.”

“You know what? I’ve got to go. I can’t talk to you if you’re not going to listen.” Oh my god, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that to my mother. Part of me panicked.

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Skylar. I swear, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“You know what, Mother? I don’t think you EVER have.”

And I hung up. My hands were shaking. I was so not good at confrontation. Even when an ocean lay between us. And I was slightly amazed that I’d actually stood up to her, but maybe it was easier from far away—no immediate consequences.

“Whoa,” Asher said, and I looked over at him. His eyes were wide and worried.

“I know, right? She’s…
something
.” There were so many adjectives I could have used to describe my mother, but…I don’t know. She’s still my
mother
.

“Someone is having trouble letting go, huh?”

“That’s one way to put it,” I said, and put my phone away. I took a deep breath hoping it would clear my mother out of my head. Though I don’t think there was enough air in the world for that. So I focused on Asher. “We going to make a bell for Paige?”

“That’s the plan.”

We walked to the market to pick up picnic stuff, then rented a car for the day and headed out. It was pretty straight forward to get there, and an absolutely gorgeous drive. The foundry was in the little town of Bärau, nestled among rolling hills of the most amazing green, with snow capped mountains off in the distance.
Breathtaking
didn’t even begin to cover it.

In the foundry’s workshop, we learned how to decorate the sand molding for the bell. See, they start with this fine sticky sand and form it into the shape of the bell and
that’s
the actual mold they use. We pressed letters and symbols into the sand to create the design on the metal. Around the edge we spelled out PAIGE AND DANNY and their wedding date.

I was picking through the different flower designs they had, with a plan to fill in the rest of the space around the edge of the bell, when Asher cleared his throat.

“Flowers?” he said. “Really?”

“What’s wrong with flowers? These’ll look pretty.”

“THAT’s the problem. You’re going to make it girly.”

I looked at him, one eyebrow raised and spoke slowly. “Are you afraid Danny won’t
use
the bell if there are flowers on it?”

A smile broke out on his face and he knew I had him. We were making a huge cowbell. It would be beautiful and shiny, but it’s not like Paige or Danny were going to get any use out of it. That was part of its charm, its uselessness. Paige was going to love it.

When we were done making it
girly
, they took our mold, secured it, and poured ridiculously hot, liquid bronze into it. I was giddy as I watched, grinning stupidly, but I couldn’t help it. It was unique, expensive, and completely impractical—which, hello, was PERFECT for Paige. And since my trip was being cut short I actually had extra money. I was planning to mail it home from Bern—which was going to be pricey too, but your best friend only got married once. And you only got to pick out a wedding gift while backpacking in Europe once. So I was splurging, and it was FUN.

We went outside to find a place to picnic and to wait for the bell to cool and be polished. The breeze felt good after the stifling heat of the foundry.

Gazing out at the incredible view of snow-capped mountains that looked more like a movie background than reality, we ate and talked. We’d done so much talking, Asher and me, that I kept expecting us to run out of things to say, but we hadn’t. I was starting to think it was possible we never would.

“What did you study at Rutgers?” I said.

“Computer science.”

I grinned at him. “Oh, so you’re a geek.” His dimples deepened in his sun-kissed cheeks. There was absolutely nothing geeky about this guy. Except, it seemed, his brain. “You are also golden when it comes to finding a job.”

“That is pretty much true.” He laughed. “Which is why I chose it. And I like working with computer systems, so it works out, but I much prefer being outside. Hopefully I’ll find a job that lets me do both.”

“Yeah, you don’t seem like the sit-behind-a-desk-all-day kind of guy.”

“I can be if I need to, but I’d rather not,” he said. “What about you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Honestly, my degree in communications doesn’t feel all that useful at the moment. Or maybe I’m just realizing it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life.” I looked at him. “I shouldn’t have to make this kind of decision at the beginning of my life. You know? What if I hate what I choose?”

He shrugged. “Then I suppose you can just choose something else. I don’t think any career decision has to be forever. Keep trying things until you hit on the right one.”

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