I was too overwhelmed to speak. It had been like going back through time. How long had I sat there, hypnotized, lost in my memory?
Noel mistook my silence. “Of course, if you don’t want the reminder…if you’d prefer to try to forget…maybe it would be easier that way…”
I gaped at him. “No! I want this. If…if I can’t have you, I’ll take the memories.”
He smiled, relieved. “Good.” His hand reached out to cover mine. “I’ll have them too, you know. And I will relive them every day. I’ll keep them for all of eternity.”
With his other hand, he tilted my head in his direction. “Do you think we could add one more to the memory bank? Before I go?” he asked, his gaze lingering on my lips.
I’d barely had the chance to nod my head when his lips found me, those soft, cool lips that molded perfectly to mine. He leaned into me and I lay down, my arms wrapping around him as I brought him down with me. I realized there was one more memory he could give me, one more that I could keep and replay and cherish forever.
I kissed him hard and he responded willingly. My lips felt raw, stung, a sure sign that he was as lost as I was. I worked my hands under his shirt, caressing his back as I pulled him closer still. He moaned softly against my mouth. I grabbed his t-shirt and tried to lift it off of him.
He tore his mouth free and looked at me with darkened eyes. “What are you doing?” he whispered hoarsely.
“I want to be with you,” I told him. “Completely.”
He shook his head and tried to sit up but I held him tight.
“Please,” I pleaded. “I want this as a memory. A memory I can relive whenever I want to. Or need to.”
Noel frowned. “I can’t. I shouldn’t be your first--”
I put my finger to his lips to silence him. “I want you to be my first. If it were up to me, you’d be my last. Please. If you won’t take me with you, won’t you at least do this?”
He sighed and looked at me for one agonizingly long moment. I kept my eyes fixed on him this time. I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t giving up.
“Valerie,” he whispered, defeated. “My sweet Valerie…”
I pulled him to me and he kissed me deeply as his hands twined through my hair. It was my turn to sigh, to moan softly as I savored this small victory. There was no indecisiveness, no fear this time. There was nothing I wanted more.
Noel lay me back on my bed, his body resting lightly on mine, his hands running down the length of my arms, continuing to my hips, stroking my legs. I swung one leg over him, bringing him closer. His mouth moved to my neck, leaving that trail of cool kisses that somehow always warmed my blood. I tilted my head back.
He rolled off of me and I tried to move with him but his arms stilled me.
“Stay there,” he whispered.
He leaned his head against mine. “Stay there,” he repeated. “And close your eyes.”
I did and suddenly, unexpectedly, a window opened. An opening, some small portal in my mind that, until then, I hadn’t known existed. I saw me, laying on my bed, dressed as I was today, with Noel laying next to me, our heads touching. The perspective shifted and I was me…and Noel was kissing me. He kissed me forever and then slowly, his hands lifted off my shirt and slid down my shorts. He was pressed against me, his body firm and muscled and real. With gentle hands, he caressed and explored and later, an eternity later, after he’d loved me thoroughly, I lay next to him, spent and sated, marveling at how total and complete I felt. I was.
I opened my eyes and shifted my head to look at him. His expression was guarded but there was a smile lurking, a smile of satisfaction.
“Did we…?” I glanced down. My clothes were on.
He placed his hand on my forehead, his fingers playing with my hair. “In here, we did,” he said, nodding his head toward mine. “Is that…was it OK?”
I sighed. “It was better than OK. It was perfect.”
He did smile then, a huge smile that lit up his entire face. “You’ll have the memory now,” he promised, kissing me tenderly. “And so will I. Now and forever.”
I snuggled closer to him and he curved his arm around me, bringing my head against his chest. I closed my eyes, comforted by the steady beating of his heart. I concentrated on this and on the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, so that this quiet, peaceful aftermath could be squirreled away, too, and taken out and savored later, again and again.
I must have fallen asleep. The light in my room had shifted, the shadows created by the sun long gone. I stretched, arching my back like a cat, lost in my memories from earlier. I turned to Noel, to reach for him, to draw him to me again. My hands encountered empty space.
I sat up and looked around. “Noel?” My voice was barely a whisper.
There was no answer. I searched the room with my eyes but he was gone. I could feel the blood begin to pump, rushing through me, as the panic rose. I took deep, steadying breaths, trying to keep my emotions at bay. He had to go, I said to myself. But he loved you. He loved you. He loved you.
The hammering ceased and my blood slowed. I rolled to my side and inhaled the scent on my pillow. Noel lingered there and I reached out to touch it, to pretend he was still there for one more minute. My hand encountered something smooth and cool…the holly wreath charm. Underneath this was a piece of paper, a thick, cream-colored sheet folded in half. I held the charm in one hand and unfolded the letter.
Forgive me for leaving you like this. I wanted a proper goodbye, to hold you and look at you and kiss you one last time. But I also wanted what would be easiest, the most bearable for you. Please don’t think me cowardly. I did it for you. Rest assured that while you slept, I showered you with kisses and caresses; I loved you thoroughly in your sleep and in your dreams. It’s all there, another memory if you want it. That is the goodbye I want you to remember…me loving you, worshiping you…
You’ve always wondered what makes you special, out loud to me and in your heart. I hear you all the time, the questioning and the overwhelming uncertainty. Do you know what I see, what drew me to you from the beginning? I see a girl hurt and alone but always ready with a brave face. I see a girl who has been dealt an unfair hand, by family and friends, but who perseveres, who hasn’t lost hope despite all that has transpired. I see a girl with strong convictions, the truest sense of what is right and how the world should be. I see a girl whose inner beauty and inherent goodness shine like the brightest of beacons in the often dismal sea of human existence. I see you.
This is why I love you…now and forever, my sweet Valerie. Always, Noel
Epilogue
It was the end of March and I sat huddled on a blue camp chair in front of a roaring fire. The wind whipped through my hair and under my jacket, prickling my skin with goose bumps. I held my jacket close to me and tucked my chin to my neck in a feeble attempt to ward off the chill.
“Valerie.” Geoff sat down next to me.
The smile I greeted him with was genuine. “Hey.”
He looked good, I thought. It had been almost a month since I’d last seen him and his hair had gotten even longer, completely covering those ears of his. He had some new piercings, a stud in his eyebrow and a silver ring in his lip. On him, they looked right.
“Hey yourself.” He grabbed a chair and positioned it next to mine. “Man, it’s freezing!”
I nodded and tugged my jacket tighter. I’d need to put a sweatshirt on underneath, I thought, maybe grab my gloves.
Geoff continued. “A lot different than last year, huh? We were wearing shorts, weren’t we? I remember it being warm.”
I didn’t answer. It had been warm…and mysterious and magical and the beginning of an entirely new chapter in my life.
I felt his eyes on me. “Sorry,” he said quietly.
I shrugged. “Don’t be.”
I didn’t mind talking about it, at least not like I had before. There had been months when I couldn’t speak—even think—about last year at all without breaking
down.
He changed the subject. “How are things with Jessica?”
“Not like before, but OK.”
“I bet. It’s hard to go back to the way things were. At least you can move forward, right?”
I nodded again as I thought about this. Jessica had moved back last July. Rebuilding our friendship had been a long, painstaking process. We worked on it one brick at a time, studying each piece and mulling it over before cementing it into place. Trusting each other and ourselves was an issue, even for her, as she battled to overcome depression.
“Is she still doing OK?” he asked.
I shifted in my chair. “She seems to be,” I said. “We don’t really talk about it too much.”
Jess had suffered regular depression because of the move and seasonal depression from the endless nights of winter but I did not learn this from her. My mom confided in me after her family’s return, after a lunch date with Jess’s mom. Her dad’s company’s exploratory bid had been denied and they had been relieved to leave, mostly for Jessica’s sake.
I’d told Geoff about it. Like Noel had predicted, he’d become a good friend. I corrected myself— he’d always been a good friend, ever since I’d opened the door to that possibility and accepted him.
“She must be happy it’s spring.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’ll be better when it feels like spring.”
Mom walked over then, holding two steaming Styrofoam cups. “You two want hot chocolate?”
She was dressed in jeans and a black zippered hoodie, for once dressed appropriately for camping. But her make-up was still flawless, her hair perfectly styled. She looked like an advertisement for an outdoor store or the spokesmodel for some camping commercial.
Geoff reached for a cup. “I’ll take one.”
I held out my hand, too. “Thanks, Mom.”
She lingered for a moment. “Your mom and I are headed into town in a bit,” she said to Geoff. She turned to me. “You want to come along? There are a couple of art galleries we could go to…”
I considered her invitation. She wasn’t offering antique shopping like she would have last year. She was offering something for me, something she knew I would love. Part of me was sorely tempted—to leave the campground and the memories that haunted me, to explore the galleries and their artistic offerings, to see if they provided inspiration or escape. But part of me knew I needed to stay, to face those personal demons that taunted me and tried to insist I wasn’t strong enough.
“Nah, I think I’ll stay here,” I said finally. “But thanks.”
Geoff’s eyes widened but he said nothing.
“I’ll bring you guys some marshmallows before I go,” she said. “You’re sitting next to the fire, you might as well roast something.”
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, turning to look at the empty picnic table.
“On the phone…he and Danny both. That case they’re trying to settle.” Some things hadn’t changed.
“Wow,” Geoff said after she’d left. We heard the trunk opening and the crackle of plastic bags as my mom hunted for the marshmallows. “I can’t believe you’re passing up an opportunity to get out of here.”
He knew how I’d struggled with coming. As the weekend loomed closer, I’d run all sorts of potential excuses by him as I tried to figure out how to escape the annual trip. In the end, I’d abandoned those plans and had just decided to come. I needed to do it, to see if this place—like so many others—could be bearable without Noel. I’d conquered so many of the other places we’d been together: school, museums and monuments, even my own bedroom, where the memories haunted me the most. I needed to give this one a chance, too.
“Is it all right? Being back here?”
Mom returned then, preventing me from responding. She handed me the bag.
“Here you go. We’ll be back in a few hours. Tell your dad I took the steaks out to thaw, OK?”
I nodded.
“Let me see that.” Geoff grabbed the bag from me and ripped it open. He snagged a marshmallow and popped it into his mouth.
“How much does your mom know?” He ate another marshmallow. “You haven’t told her anything else, have you?”
“No,” I said. I stared at the fire, watching the blue-orange flames as they licked skyward.
With the exception of Hope and Fanchon—and Geoff, of course—no one else knew the real story behind Noel’s mysterious appearance in my life or his sudden departure. Not my parents, not Jessica. At Fanchon’s suggestion, I’d told my mom and dad early on that he wouldn’t be coming back.
“So you don’t have to hide it,” Fanchon had said last summer. “So you can be sad and really grieve. And they can comfort you.”
It was Midsummer’s Eve when I told them, choking back tears. Dad had been horrified, at a loss as to how to fix me, how to make everything better. If he could have hopped on a plane and dragged Noel back, he would have. He would have done anything, however misguided, to make me happy. My mother’s approach had been much different. My complete and total breakdown was the jump start her maternal instincts had needed. She kicked into high-gear, never over-bearing but with brief conversations, simple touches and well-timed shopping trips and outings. It had been just enough. And no one had been more surprised than me.
Geoff thrust a stick at me, bringing me back to the present.
“What’s this?”
He rolled his eyes. “A stick? For roasting marshmallows?”
He took a marshmallow and skewered it, wasting no time in placing it dead center in the fire. Flames engulfed it and he pulled it out quickly. A charred blackened blob remained. He took it off and ate it.
I made a face. “Gross. Is that really how you roast a marshmallow?”
He frowned at me. “What other way is there?”
“Slowly. Carefully.”
He snorted. “No way.”
“Give me one.”
He tossed the bag to me. The plastic was cold in my hands and the sweet smell of sugary fluff scented the air. I chose one. It was cool and soft and winter white. I pierced its center and lowered it toward the fire, letting the heat from the flames transform it. I twirled it methodically, watching as the sides changed color, from snowy white to a creamy butterscotch, rich and warm.
Satisfied, I pulled it out of the fire, blew on it for a moment and then ate it. Its sugary sweetness melted in my mouth.
I swallowed. “That’s how you roast a marshmallow.”
“Yeah. If your goal is one per hour.” He yanked the bag back and we both laughed.
“What are you thinking about?” Geoff asked quietly.
“Him.” I knew my one word response would be enough.
He sighed. “You still miss him? Love him?”
I broke the end off of my roasting stick and twirled the two-inch piece between my fingers. “I’ll always love him, Geoff. Always.”
“It’s a waste, you know.” His voice was angry. “He won’t come back for you.”
“Why is it a waste? Are you supposed to stop loving someone just because they’re gone?” I threw the tiny piece into the fire.
“That’s not what I meant…”
But I wasn’t finished. “What about Fanchon? Have you fallen out of love with her because she’s gone?”
“That’s different,” he began.
“How?” I demanded. “She’s spending the entire spring semester in Paris. You can’t see her, you can’t touch her, and you don’t really know if she’s going to come back. Have you stopped loving her? Just turned it off like a faucet you’re done using?”
His voice was soft. “We broke up.”
My hand flew to my mouth to cover my gasp of surprise. “What? When?” I felt terrible.
He shrugged. “A couple of days ago.”
“What happened?” I asked. “I mean, can you tell me…?”
It was Geoff’s turn to stare into the flames. “I just decided that we were better at being friends.”
“
You broke up with her?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
He looked at me. “Is that so hard to believe?” He stood up and added another log to the fire.
“No, but…” I snapped another piece off the branch in my hands. “OK, yes…it is hard to believe. Fanchon is great—really great. You guys were perfect together.”
He sat back down and didn’t say anything.
“Was it the distance? The time apart?”
“No.”
“Well, do you still love her?”
“Yes…kind of. I don’t know.”
I’d never heard Geoff so unsure, so indecisive. He sounded like me.
“We’re better as friends,” he repeated. “Better than lovers, anyway.”
I raised my eyebrows and stared at him. His lips curved into the smallest of smiles and I felt the blush rise up my cheeks.
Geoff’s smile grew. “Sorry. A little too much information?”
I nodded, trying to suppress my own grin. I’d suspected, of course, but it wasn’t something Fanchon and I talked about. And if I didn’t talk about it with her, it wasn’t going to come up in conversation with Geoff.
Dad joined us then, dragging his chair closer to the fire, bringing our conversation to an end.
“It’s a little cold this time around, isn’t it?” He leaned in, holding his hands near the flames as he tried to absorb some warmth.
“Not as cold as that first year,” Geoff said. “Remember? It actually snowed the last day.”
Dad smiled. “Yes, but it didn’t stick. A good thing, since I don’t know how we would’ve made it down the mountain.”
We were quiet, preoccupied by very different memories. My thoughts drifted from Noel to the boy sitting next to me, the boy who might very well be coping with some of the same heartache I had gone through. Was still going through, I amended. It wasn’t as painful as before, but the ache and the emptiness lingered.
“Hey, Val, I forgot to mention…I ran into Bridget at the club yesterday. She said she has a client interested in one of your pieces.”
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