Allison Parr - Running Back

She led up to it with all the little lines about how irritating Dad was, lines that I thought meant nothing, and finished with, “So I’m moving out.”

The entire world blanked. I forgot how to breathe or see, and then I wanted to babble in overtime to make up for the seconds I’d lost. “Are you sure? When did you decide?”

“About ten years ago. Honey—I know this is going to be hard for you—”

I tried not to let her hear me hyperventilating. “Me? No. I’m an adult. Are you okay?” Of course she wasn’t okay.

Oh my God, I couldn’t believe Mom would leave Dad.

She sounded like she doubted my adulthood. “I know, but it’s still hard for children—even grown ones—to handle divorce.”

Divorce? Whoa, I’d been thinking separation. “Have you—have you tried couple’s therapy?”

“Yes. Honey—this has been a long time coming.”

I knew that. I just didn’t think it would ever actually arrive. “But why didn’t you do it years ago?”

She sounded like her heart was breaking. My heart was breaking. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to until you were out of the house. Until you’d found your feet. And—maybe I’d forgotten about being happy.”

“And—what. No. Mom. Paris? That’s just rose-colored glasses. I mean, it was Paris. And you were eighteen. Of course it’s beautiful in hindsight.”

“Well, I want it back. I think I deserve it.”

Shit, I was a crap daughter. “Of course you do. You do.” I swallowed. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course! I’ll be fine. Cheryl’s letting me stay with her while I look for a place.”

My eyes widened. “Wait, when are you leaving?”

“That’s why I wanted to call you. This weekend.”

I went silent for long enough that she had to say my name. I took a breath and forced out the question. “Did you ever think this would happen? In the beginning?”

Her silence almost rivaled mine. “Never.”

I watched the rain.

“Because you loved him.”

“So, so much. Don’t doubt that, Natalya. I loved him with every part of my soul.”

Mike knocked and walked back in while I sat curled in the window seat, staring out at the drizzle. “What’s wrong?”

I looked up, but it took a moment for Mike to come into focus. “My mom’s moving out.”

He stopped. “Wow.”

I stared at the murky green mess. “It’s surreal. I guess since they were unhappy forever —it was the status quo. I didn’t think it would ever change.”

“Then I guess it’s brave of her.”

“Yeah.” I straightened. “Oh my God. How is she going to survive? She’s always had someone to take care of her.”

“Well, she is an adult.”

“Yeah, I know.” My gaze went back to the rain and then I sighed.

“What had you wanted to tell me earlier?”

The rain was no longer friendly; the lights no longer warm. Or at least I couldn’t feel it. “I don’t know.”

“I thought—I thought maybe you wanted to talk about afterward. Since I’m going home on Sunday.”

No, Mike. Not now. I didn’t want to talk about afterward because there was no afterward. Because things ended. They ended, and they were buried, and they were lost forever. That was the only forever.

I heard him take a step closer to me, and the ghost of his reflection showed in the darkened window. “I wanted to tell you something too.”

I shook my head, my arms holding my knees against my chest.

His hand curved over my shoulder. “Natalie, look at me.”

I closed my eyes.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. Training camp starts soon.”

“I know.”

“Natalie.”

Slowly, I turned and looked at him. He knelt before me and took my hands between his. His eyes were warm and bright and steady, just like they were every time he looked at me. I felt muddled—my heart felt so full, but like tight vines constricted it, and I couldn’t breathe.

He traced the counters of my cheek and jaw. His mouth crooked up in my favorite smile. “Natalie. I love you.”

My chest felt like it exploded, like there were shards of metal and air and everything was dizzy and messy. I kept my eyes on his like they anchored me, like I’d spin away if I let go, carried off until I vanished from existence.

He loved me.

And I loved him. I loved him with every part of me, just like my mother had loved my father.

My breathing came faster, and Mike must have known something was wrong by the furrow of his brows. “Natalie?”

The words broke out of me, the wrong ones. “But it doesn’t last.”

The furrows increased. “What?”

I clutched his hands, desperately trying to make him understand. “Love doesn’t work. It just never works. ”

I could feel him draw away. His face shuttered, the mask I hadn’t seen in so long falling back in place. He shifted his balance so his whole body leaned away from mine. “So you don’t love me.”

“No, Mike, I—” My throat convulsed and I had to pause and work back tears. “Mike—nothing lasts forever.”

He stood slowly. “I should finish packing.”

I followed him to the door, still unable to make any words come out. I couldn’t process. I couldn’t think. This was going too fast. I needed to make him understand that I did love him. But my throat wouldn’t work and my lips wouldn’t move, and when they finally did, nothing useful came out. “Mike, stop. I’m not saying—we’re still—This isn’t it, right?”

He stopped, his shoulders ram rod straight, and then he turned. The smile had vanished, and his eyes were so bright I almost believed it came from a sheen of tears. “I don’t think you get it. I didn’t want to date you. I wanted... Forever. Which you don’t believe in.” He took my face in his hands, and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like salt and wind. Mine.

Then he walked out the door.

And I slumped to the ground and said to the wall, over and over, I love you. I love you. I love you.

It’s not exactly easy to say goodbye to someone you’re utterly, madly in love with, especially after they’ve given up on you.

I went with the O’Connors to the airport, except for Anna, who was staying to work on the dig. Kate was very sweet, and Lauren left me with strict instructions. “Don’t let Eileen’s granddaughter hook up with Paul. Or if it happens, don’t tell me. And tell him that I’m leading a wonderful, happy, fulfilled life.”

Mike and I lingered off to the side for a moment. I cleared my throat and smiled. This wasn’t supposed to be tearful or heartfelt. I leaned up on my toes and kissed him.

It was supposed to be a quick goodbye, but his hands slid around my back, around my head, holding me to him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into my mouth. He was hungry and demanding. His hands clenched my body. I clutched him back, gasping, pressing ever inch of my body against his, wanting everything. Wanting him.

And then he stepped back. “So.”

I didn’t want him to leave me. “So.”

He started to say something twice. And then he stopped, and gave me the real smile, my crooked smile, and then he left.

For the next two weeks, I drowned out my negative emotions by surrounding myself with the euphoria of success. Each day brought a new discovery. A bronze box with carbonized human remains. Dozens of beads. A kiln. Everything was carefully photographed and washed and categorized, while we sent off samples for radiocarbon dating. If we were lucky, they’d come back with dates around the turn of the millennia.