Living with Jackie Chan (31 page)

“You’re the best, Sam,” Larry tells me when he finally lets go. “A true karate man.”

I fake-punch him in the arm. “And you’re a true Jackie Chan,” I tell him.

“C’mon, before I start crying,” he says. I follow him to the living room, where I’ve piled all my stuff to go home. Arielle comes out to say good-bye, too. After a few minutes, I decide to go find Stella, since she obviously didn’t get my text about meeting me here.

I knock on the door and wait and wait, until finally Calvin answers the door in his boxers. He scratches his beard and squints at me through his sleep. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah. I’m leaving today. Is Stella up?”

He turns away and looks back inside the apartment. “Hang on.”

He shuts the door in my face.

It’s quiet on the other side, and I’m starting to wonder if he just went back to sleep. But after a few minutes, Stella opens the door. Her hair is still wet.

“Sorry. I was in the shower. You ready?”

I nod, and we go back to the second floor to get my stuff.

Arielle gives me a big hug and makes me promise to visit during winter break. Larry’s face is wet with tears. He doesn’t bother to try to hide them.

“Thanks for letting us borrow the car,” I say. “And for everything else. You’re the best, man.”

He pulls me in for one last Larry hug. “I’m really gonna miss you, kid,” he says in my ear.

“You, too. Jackie.”

I pull away from him. He grins at me and ruffles my hair.

“I’ll bring the car back tonight,” Stella tells him.

“Drive carefully,” Arielle says, putting her arm around Larry.

“We will,” Stella promises.

And then we leave.

Larry’s car smells like cinnamon air freshener, and not in a good way. We roll down the windows. I pause before I put the gear in drive. I look up at the building, then at Stella.

“I don’t want to leave,” I say.

“I know.” She reaches over and squeezes my thigh. “But it’s going to be OK.”

“Yeah.”

We start down the street, going extra slowly.

“Don’t look back,” she tells me. “I know I won’t.”

I nod, but I look in the rearview mirror anyway.

Bye, Larry,
I say in my head.
Thanks for everything.

When we get on the highway and roll the windows back up, Stella cranks the AC and we find some music on the radio. After about an hour, Stella falls asleep. As I drive, I can’t help feeling the distance between me and Larry and my life with him grow wider. I imagine him getting smaller and smaller as our year turns into a memory. Living with Larry was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I hope he knows that. I hope he knows that maybe he did turn me into a true karate man. At least, as true as I can be.

I think about this past week with Stella, too, and how much I’m going to miss her. About the pact we made last night, to see each other at least once a month, and how much I hope we keep it. We looked at the train schedules from New York to Philadelphia, and they seem pretty easy. So we have hope. We know we belong together. Whether as just friends, or maybe more. But together, either way. I look down at the lump in my pocket where Stella’s rock is, then over at her. Sleeping. Peaceful.

When the exit nears, my stomach starts to twist and I feel sick. I reach over and touch Stella’s hand to wake her up.

She winks at me. “Hey,” she says. “What time is it?”

“Time,” I say. I pull off the highway at my exit and feel my stomach tighten even more.

“You all right?” Stella asks. “You look a little pale.”

I feel like I’m going to be sick. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I tell her.

“You can,” she says. She reaches over and squeezes my thigh again. I’m going to miss that.

We drive into my old neighborhood, and I slow down as we travel the streets of my childhood, past Dave’s house, then Caleb’s. And then, up ahead, toward the park. I pull the car up to the curb and the chain-link fence that surrounds the park. My chest feels tight, and I have to work to breathe.

“Nice park,” Stella says. “It’s bigger than I imagined.”

I notice that the grass is freshly mown, and I picture Dave and Caleb arguing over who got to ride the mower first. Knowing those two, they squished together on the seat and shared the first ride. Past the baseball diamond, there’s the playground. And in the far corner of that, the swings.

“Just breathe,” Stella says. “I’ll be right here.

I grip the steering wheel and take one more deep breath before I get out of the car. Stella follows me to the opening in the fence.

“Is that her?” she asks, as we both look out across the grass to the lone figure sitting on one of the swings.

I nod.

Stella reaches for my hand and holds tight.

“I’ll be right here,” she tells me. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

I don’t move.

“I promise,” she says. When she smiles at me, I know she’s right. No matter what happens, everything’s going to be fine. Because when I get back, she’ll still be here.

I finally let go of her hand and walk through the fence opening. Halfway across the field, I reach in my pocket and squeeze Stella’s rock. I don’t look back, but I swear she’s doing the same thing. I take another step forward, and another. Across the baseball field and onto the mulch-covered playground. All the way to the girl, sitting alone on a swing. She’s looking down at her feet, which barely touch the ground. Her cropped hair has fallen across her face, and it blows in the wind as she swings, just a bit, back and forth.

I look over my shoulder across the field and see Stella’s tiny figure, her hands clasping the fence.

You can do this.

When Ellie looks up, her hair falls away from her face and her familiar eyes stare right into my soul. But they’re different than I remember. They’re not pleading with me. They’re just looking at me. Waiting for me to say something. So I do.

“Hi,” I say quietly.

“Hi,” she says back. “I’m glad you came.”

Since
Jumping Off Swings
was published, the most common question I’ve received from readers is “What happens to Josh?” I would like to thank those readers for making me ask the same thing. I also want to thank dear friends and readers Cindy Faughnan, Debbi Michiko Florence, and Robin Wasserman for their guidance and encouragement throughout Josh’s journey. Thanks to my agent, Barry Goldblatt, my editor, Joan Powers, and everyone at Team Candlewick. I love you all! Finally, a very special thank-you to Peter and Eli Carini, my husband and son, for providing their karate expertise and all-around support. You both inspire me every day.

www.candlewick.com