Page 73 of We Can Forever

She reaches me, a little breathless from trying to catch up. “How are you? I heard that you and Michael…well…” She smiles, like she’s unsure how to finish and that’s the best she can do.

For some reason, that breaks my heart more than anything else this last week.

“I’m okay,” I say, voice cracking and tears filling my eyes. “How are you?”

“Oh, honey.” Her faces scrunches with sympathy. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee? There’s a spot a few blocks away. The girls have their play rehearsal today, and I’m hanging around until they’re finished.”

Because I don’t trust myself to speak, I just nod. Cynthia leads us across the parking lot and down the street. With the cacophony of school behind us, she finally speaks.

“So, you and Michael broke up.”

Is that what this was? A breakup?

I guess so. I just haven’t wanted to call it that. Instead, I’ve been using gentler phrases, like “taking space” and “figuring things out.” There’s no guarantee we’ll get back together, though. Three days later and I haven’t found any additional clarity.

“Yeah.” The word is dry as sawdust. It sticks to my mouth and sits there, turning sour till I think I might throw up. “It’s for the best, though. I miss him, but I wouldn’t have been able to handle worrying about him every time he left the house for work.”

Cynthia hums in acknowledgment. “I understand the feeling. Half the time Michael’s dad left to go to the firehouse, I felt so nervous.”

A little bit of tension leaves my body. It feels good to be seen, even if that in itself doesn’t fix any problems.

We reach the coffee shop, which isn’t nearly as cute as the one on Pine Island but—according to Cynthia—has good teas. After grabbing two cups of herbal to go, we find seats at one of the wooden tables.

“I’m glad that you understand.” I fiddle with my tea bag.

“Oh, I do.” She blows on her tea. “But you know, for me, our life together was worth every ounce of the worry.”

I freeze, surprised. “It was?”

“Ted loved his job.” Her eyes sparkle at a memory that only she’s privy to. “Every day, he walked out of the house to a career that he loved, to a job that helped people. It’s why he started firefighting in the first place. He wanted to give back to the island that had done so much for his family.”

I stare into my tea, mixed emotions rising to the surface. When she puts it that way, I feel like a selfish jerk for not accepting Michael’s important job. Then again, I can’t give back to the world myself if I’m always having flares, always worried about where he is and if he’s okay.

Cynthia goes on. “I suspect that’s why Michael took the chief job when it came up.”

I look up. “To help people?”

“To give back to the community that raised him.”

I have to sit on that one for a minute. Michael always seems so put off by the islanders, annoyed that everyone’s nose is in his business.

“I know he doesn’t show it,” Cynthia says, “but Michael loves Pine Island, even if it isn’t the easiest place to live. And Michael…” She lets out a little sigh. “Well, doing anything that didn’t help its people wouldn’t fill his cup enough. You know what I mean?”

I nod slowly. “I do.”

“I heard you used to be a teacher.”

“Yeah,” I say, disappointed that the conversation is straying away from Michael. “I taught at a high school, then when my fibromyalgia started getting bad, I switched to online.”

“And then you opened Knit Happens.”

“I put everything into it.” I laugh at the memory, a rare event where I took a chance. “I had never even been to Pine Island, had never run my own business…”

“But your heart called you to it.”

“Exactly.”

“So then, you understand.” She peers at me over her glasses. “Running that shop makes you happy in a way that teaching didn’t, so you switched, even though being a small business owner isn’t nearly as safe or steady as teaching.”

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