Laura Miller - By Way of Accident

“Do you remember the necklace?” I ask.

I don’t say anything else. She narrows her eyes at me — not angrily, just thoughtfully. Then she nods.

“It was hers,” I say.

Understanding seems to wash over her. Starting with her eyes, her features loosen, her lips part. She’s motionless for a few beats. Then she slowly nods again — almost as if she understands for the first time — like really understands this time.

“I’m sorry, Amy. I met her before I met you. We were only thirteen.”

Somehow and all of a sudden, I feel as if I’m talking to a friend instead of an ex-girlfriend. “You know,” I say, probably a little too comfortable, “as the years drew on, I think I feared seeing her again. I was scared that we’d be like two strangers that only crossed paths once upon a time, but…”

I stop there. I don’t have the words really to finish, and I’m pretty sure Amy doesn’t really want to hear the end anyway.

“You did cross paths? Recently?” she asks.

I don’t know if she asks it to ease her own pain or her own curiosity again, but I oblige and answer her either way.

I nod. “We ran into each other — out of the blue.”

“When was the last time you saw her? I mean, before that?” she asks.

I gnaw on my bottom lip. I guess since I don’t have my cap, my lip is the next best thing to ease my nerves. “We were thirteen.”

“River.” She lets go of my name, and the second it leaves her mouth, it sounds as if it’s a motherly warning of some sorts. It’s gentle but laced with pity.

“Amy, I know. I know it sounds crazy.” I laugh once to myself, and then there’s silence again.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No,” I admit with a smile. “I’m not sure about anything.” I want to tell her, though, that I’m more than willing to take a chance on Brooke. I want to tell her that when we met again for the first time in nine years, it was as if no time had passed. I want to tell Amy that I can’t not try with Brooke. But I don’t. I spare her the details because despite how much she thinks she wants to know, she can’t want to know everything. Things like this break even the strongest.

Amy nods and then stills her movements. “I shouldn’t have ever let you go.”

I slowly shake my head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Amy. It would have ended the same.”

She seems to gnaw on that thought for a couple seconds. “River?”

I give her my full attention.

“Do you think there’s more than just one match for a person?”

I press my lips together. “Yeah,” I eventually say, nodding. “I do. But I think there’s only that one person that will challenge you — that will make you feel alive. And that’s what we need, I think.”

“I didn’t challenge you?” she asks.

“Amy, we didn’t challenge each other. We did everything two people were supposed to do in high school, and we had fun, but in the end, we did what was easy.”

Her chest seems to deflate. I know what I said makes her sad, but I also know she agrees. And all of a sudden, an unexpected smile finds her lips.

“We did have fun.”

I nod. “Yeah,” I agree. “We did.”

She lets go of a heavy sigh. “You know, a lot of life gets lived between thirteen and now? The past isn’t always as beautiful as we paint it in our minds.”

I look into her baby blue eyes, possibly for the last time, and I see all the laughter and the love and the tears we shared in the years we had together. And I can see in those eyes that she really cares for me — just like I really care for her. But then I find myself slowly nodding my head as I say my next thought. “Maybe so, but I’m willin’ to take that chance.”

Her gaze falters to the floor, but only for a moment. After a few seconds, it returns to mine, and I can see a mist welling up in her eyes. “I’m going to miss you, River.”

I bob my head once. “I’ll miss you too.” I say my final words to her because I know they’re the right words to say. They’re what she wants to hear, and they’re the truth. Amy was there for a season. I’ll always love her for that. No matter how stupid or ugly we were to each other at times, she’ll always hold one of my seasons. She was my spring, but the thing is, Brooke was always what I just couldn’t wait to get to. Brooke was always my summer. She’ll always be my summer. And I had already made my choice a long time ago. Loving Brooke was what I was made to do. Now, I just hope that loving me was what Brooke was made to do.

“Brooke.”

“Mm-hmm?” She’s playing with a DVD case. She’s distractingly sexy — even playing with a darn DVD case. I guess you could say it’s our third date, even though I feel as if it’s our thirty-third date. We’re watching movies at her new place and eating pizza. She’s wearing gray sweats, and her hair is pulled back, and I wouldn’t trade this kind of comfortable for the world. It just feels natural — being with her.

“I came and saw you,” I say.

She stops playing with the case and looks up at me. I know it’s out of the blue, but I think she deserves to know I tried to find her — that I did find her.

“What?” she asks.

“Right before graduation, I got your address from your mom, and I went to your house.”

It looks as if she’s thinking. “In Memphis?” she asks.

I nod my head.

“H…how?”

“It’s a long story,” I say.

“You talked to my mom?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“Yeah,” I say. “She never told you?”

Brooke doesn’t answer. She just stares off into a corner of the room.

“She asked one day a few weeks before graduation if I had seen you lately,” she says, moving her eyes from the corner back to me. “It was weird because she hadn’t ever asked about you before. I mean, I knew she knew about you. I wasn’t very good at keeping you a secret.” She smiles and sets the DVD case onto the coffee table. “But anyway, I told her no , and I remember asking her why she had wanted to know. Then..” She stops and looks away again. “My dad came home with a puppy for my mom because she missed Winnie, and…the question never got answered.” There’s a pause, and then her pretty eyes land on mine. “Why did I never see you then?”

I sigh inwardly. This is the part I’d rather leave out. “I saw you with someone.” My eyes instinctively fall to a place on the couch. “I should have…” I let go of a breath. “I should have talked to you. I just…I think in that moment, I realized how crazy it all was to try and find you again…How crazy it was to think that…I would be sitting on your couch, eating pizza and falling for you all over again.”

She flashes me a modest smile. “Crazy, right?” she asks, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“Whatever happened…,” I start but think twice about finishing.

“With the guy?” she asks.

I sort of shrug one shoulder.

“He’s in Memphis,” she says. “We only dated for a couple months. It really wasn’t anything serious.”

I nod, trying to keep my excitement to myself as she scoots closer to me on the couch and rests her head on my shoulder. “I can’t believe you came to see me.” Her eyes land in mine. “I can’t believe you found me.”

“Are you mad?” I ask.

“About what?”

“That I didn’t talk to you?”

She shakes her head. “No. We found each other again. That’s all that matters. We found each other again the same way we found each other the first time — by way of accident. It’s only fitting — like bees and honey. Right?”