(Never) Again (8 page)

“Okay, we know I’m neither polite nor charming,” I said, standing up.

He rose until his eyes were fixed on mine. “I never said you weren’t charming.”

Warmth seeped into my cheeks. “Can we get back to the original question?”

“‘What’s new’ is kind of a broad topic. I don’t know where to start.”

“I’ll make it easy for you. Why are you here? You could’ve gone to school anywhere. Why here?” He should’ve been in Hawaii spending his days studying ocean life and his nights watching the sun set over the Pacific. He had the grades. The determination. It was always the plan.

His eyes grew dull with sadness. He was obviously bothered by the content of the answer to that question.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I said. I didn’t want to make him discuss something that was clearly upsetting him. And after the way I’d been treating him, I was probably the last person he’d want to confide in.

“No, I do. You’d understand better than anyone else.”

I stopped, frozen in place. Would I? It wasn’t just yesterday when he moved away. I really didn’t know him better than anyone else anymore.

“It’s Mimi.”

My head snapped up.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “She’s sick,” he said, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows.

“No, not Mimi.” Instinctively I reached out, grabbing his wrist. Mimi, Zach’s grandma, was as kind as the sun was bright. She was always one of my favorite people. So full of life. She couldn’t be sick.

“She couldn’t live on her own anymore. We sold the house. Moved her into assisted living. There were no places available close to my parents, and they didn’t want her to be alone. Dad was going to quit his job, but I couldn’t let him do that. So I changed my college plans. I go and see her as often as I can. Take her shopping. Bring her to bingo.” I let go of his wrist as he continued. “It’s been rough, but it’s Mimi. I’d do anything for her. Besides, after being away, it’s nice to be close to home again.”

Except his home, Mimi’s home, was no longer his. They’d sold it. But I assumed it wasn’t about the house.

“Why? Didn’t you like it there?” I asked.

“Not really. It never felt like home. Still doesn’t. My studio apartment here feels more like home. Not to mention I missed my friends. Mimi. You.”

I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that him missing me made every part of me well up with pure ecstasy. For over a year I’d thought the missing was one-sided. It was nice to know it wasn’t.

“Well, you’re here now,” I said in hopes I could cover my smile with words. “Granted things are a little different, and it’s not really home. But it’s close enough.”

“I guess.”

“So how sick is she?” On one hand, I wanted to know. On the other, I was scared of the truth. But it was Mimi. I needed to know.

“She has the beginning stages of dementia. Some days she’s fine, and other days she forgets to turn the iron off. And on really bad days, she doesn’t know who I am or she thinks I’m my dad.”

“Oh, Zach, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged, then bent down and picked up a bottle cap. It was obvious he was trying to cover the pain tugging at the corners of his eyes.

His grandmother was a big part of his life. He’d lived up the road from her from the day he was born. He spent more time at her house as a kid than he did at his own.

That house was a part of Zach, and I’d never stopped to think how he felt to leave it behind. During the short time we’d managed to stay together after he left, he never mentioned it. He’d rarely talked about what he left behind though. All he’d wanted was to hear what I had to say.

Was that why he stopped calling? Was I that selfish to not think about how hard leaving must’ve been for him? Did I even ask?

“I wish I’d known. I would’ve gone to see her,” I said, and for a split second his eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“Of course! I love Mimi. You know that.”

“She still asks about you. On her good days, you know. She’d love to see you.”

She still asked about me? My heart swelled like a marshmallow in a microwave. “I’d love to see her.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. I could see the contentment in the slight smile that tugged at his lips.

“Now, what about you? What’s new?” he finally asked after we’d walked another twenty feet down the beach.

“Not much to tell.” The words brought me back to our first meeting in high school, when he gave me the same bullshit answer during our get-to-know-your-classmate activity.

“If I know anything, I know Liz Wagner leads anything but a normal, boring life.”

“Then I guess you don’t know anything.” And we laughed just like we used to. Nothing existed except us. We were in our own world.

“How long have you and Joe been together?”

And just like that he ripped our world from its orbit and threw it back into reality.

When I told Zach I’d go see Mimi, I didn’t expect to go directly from the beach. But after seeing the excitement in his eyes, I couldn’t say no.

Since I’d carpooled with Professor Mulligan, Zach offered to take me to Mimi’s then drop me off at my place. The orange color of his Jeep was usually hard to miss, but the truck was currently caked in mud.

“Ever hear of a car wash?” I asked, eyeing the mess.

“A car wash? What’s that?”

I gave a good shove to his shoulder. “Very funny, smartass.”

“I went off-roading yesterday afternoon. The inside is clean. Here, I’ll even open the door for you, so you don’t have to touch the handle.”

“How kind.” He reached around me and my breath hitched at his proximity.

“What can I say? I’m a gentleman.” His breath, warm and minty, lingered on my skin.

“That’s debatable.”

“You really know how to get to a guy’s heart.” He opened the door and waited until I climbed in.

I took my step up then turned back to him. “I try.”

He was right. The inside wasn’t a disaster. Even the back seat, which had been covered in dirt from when we went pumpkin picking, was spotless.

I was impressed.

I thought the ride to Mimi’s would be awkward, but I should have known Zach didn’t do awkward.

“Mom’s doing good, still tutoring,” he said, his eyes focused on the road in front of him. “What about you?” I asked, wanting to know what I’d missed while we’d been apart.

He stopped at a red light and glanced over at me. “What about me?”

Everything and anything. I wanted to know what became of my Zach. How similar or how different the new Zach was.

“Do you still want to be a marine biologist?”

His dark eyes twinkled. “Absolutely. The love I have for the ocean will never go away.”

The words punched me in the gut. Hard. The ocean was able to keep his love, but I wasn’t.

“By the way, your presentation was amazing.”

I took a calming breath to ease the pain. “Thanks.”

A few seconds of silence passed, but Zach could never stay quiet for long. “So have you seen Purge play?”

“More times than I’d like to admit.”

“Between me and you . . .” He waved his finger like a metronome. “They suck.”

A giggle escaped my lips and I threw my hand over my mouth.

“What? They do! Joe’s not here. It’s just me and you. You can laugh about it.”

So I did. As I was laughing a Nickelback song came on the radio and he turned it up and started belting it out.

“Come on, Liz. Don’t you remember Zach and Liz Karaoke Time?” he asked, bobbing his head to the music and tapping the steering wheel with his hands.

How could I forget Zach and Liz Karaoke Time? It was never planned. It was always a random outburst, usually on Zach’s part. We would be doing homework or just hanging out with the radio on for background noise, when Zach would hear a song and crank it up. He’d then proceed to sing as if he was trying to win the finale of
American Idol
. I always grabbed a brush or whatever I could turn into a microphone and joined him.

I answered him with the chorus of the song and we sang for the rest of the drive. By the time we got there I was laughing so hard my ribs hurt. Out of everything, I missed this the most. Just letting loose, being myself, and not worrying what Zach thought about me, because no matter what I did, he’d never think of me any differently.

With Zach it was easy to be me. I never had to tiptoe around his feelings or feel embarrassed for any reason. And he never tread lightly with me either. Everything was out there, front and center.

And even though I blamed Zach for the breakup because he stopped calling, I secretly blamed myself too. Because I said too much the last time we talked. I must have scared him off or something. It was the only thing that made sense. My big mouth ruined everything.

The fantasies that played out in my head about us going to school together, graduating, getting our own place, getting married, should have stayed in my head. It was too much too soon.

The assisted living community was nicer than I expected. Lush gardens surrounded the property and a gazebo complete with benches sat in the middle of the lawn. I imagined Mimi sitting there with her canvas, painting and enjoying a nice day.

Zach came around to help me down, but I was already safely to the ground, so he settled for shutting the door.

“She was good this morning,” he said over his shoulder as he walked towards the entrance. “I probably should’ve called ahead to see if that changed, but you said yes so easily I didn’t want to give you a chance to run for the hills.”

“When have you ever known me to run?” As soon as the words left my mouth, something I couldn’t decipher flashed in his eyes. I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other when I realized my statement implied more than I intended.

Of course I wasn’t known to run. I was the idiot who sat by the phone day after day waiting for his call. Maybe I should take up running. It was probably easier to run from your problems than allow them to consume you.

“Come on.” Zach placed his hand on my lower back, then just as quickly pulled it away. But I felt the sparks right down to my toes. And from the look on his face, he felt them too.

We walked in and the woman at the desk waved. “Hi Zach,” she said with a smile, tucking her dark hair behind her ear and giving me a once-over.

He flashed his most charming smile. “Hi Cheryl. This is . . .” He glanced at me then back to her. “My friend. Liz.”

Cheryl reached her hand over the desk and I returned the gesture.

“How was the concert?” he asked.

“Fantastic. My Becky knocked them dead.”

“Sounds like she takes after her mom.” Zach winked, and Cheryl grinned. “How was she today?”

“After you left this morning she went out and got a haircut. I’m sure she talked Lucille’s ear off about you.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ll catch you later.”

“You know where to find me.”

Zach led me down a corridor and around the corner, stopping in front of a door with a seashell wreath. He knocked gently and then eased the door open. Mimi’s artistic touches were spread around her room. Hand-painted ivy wrapped around the door frame, the mirror was lined in shells, picture frames hung on the walls, and a colored glass mosaic table sat just beneath them.

Zach walked in and knelt in front of Mimi on the couch as I stared at her masterpieces, wondering if her illness would steal that talent away.

“Mimi, you have a visitor. Do you remember . . .”

“Oh my goodness, if it isn’t Lizzie Wagner!” Mimi exclaimed. “Look at you. Prettier than ever. Come here and give me a hug.”

She remembered me. I felt honored, and quickly took her up on her request.

I bent down to embrace her delicate frame and her arms wrapped around me with surprising strength. By the upturn of Zach’s lips it was obvious I had made the right choice by going with him.

“So why is it okay for her to call you Lizzie?” Zach asked as Mimi released her grip.

“Simple. Because I like her.” I flashed my best smile.

“Of course,” he said.

“Why don’t we go to the dining room? We’ll have some brownies and catch up.” Mimi clapped her hands together. “Or wait. If I remember correctly, you were more of a cookie girl.”

“You’re right, Mimi,” Zach said. “Do you remember how Liz used to make cookies for you?”

She tilted her head, eyes focused as if in deep concentration, trying to access that memory in her brain.

“Wait. Yes, I do. Those island cookies you made were delicious.” She clapped her hands together again.

“Oh, I forgot about those,” Zach said. “They were good. Really good. Maybe Liz will make them again for you.”

“I don’t bake anymore.” The words came rushing out.

Zach’s head snapped around to me, his brows drew together, and I braced for his remark.

Mimi beat him to it. “That’s quite all right. I don’t need the extra sugar anyway.”

Thank God. I’d blurted it out before I thought about it. If Mimi wasn’t there, Zach would want an explanation, and I simply didn’t have one. Or at least one I was willing to let him in on.

We spent a few hours with Mimi talking about the past year and about her crafts. She was delighted to find out I still had the jewelry box she’d made me and even more so when I told her it stayed out on my dresser for everyone to see. Not that many people went into my room, but either way it put a sparkle in her eyes.

By seven p.m., Mimi said she was tired and called it a night.

“Today was a good day.” Zach said as he opened the door to the Jeep so I could get in.

“I’m happy I came,” I said when he got in the driver seat.

“You made Mimi’s day. Maybe even her week.”