Page 147 of Here & There

When Shelby calls, Annie is by my side in an instant.

“Hello?” I croak.

“I’ve got him, Mac,” her voice comes over the line.

I’m not a religious man. But in that moment, I drop to my knees, sobbing, thanking her and thanking God.

“Thank you,” I blubber into the phone. “Thank you, Shelby.”

The phone falls, and Annie picks it up. They speak softly for a few minutes and then hang up.

“Wait,” I say from the ground. We’re on the beach, where I’ve been aimlessly searching for Nate like he might be out here somewhere. My biggest, pounding, heart-rending fear was that he wasn’t on the beach, but in the ocean.

Annie kneels down beside me. I ask her for my phone.

When she hands it to me, I dial Shelby again.

“Can I speak to him?” I ask.

“I’m not sure he wants to talk.”

“Okay, maybe…could you put it on speaker so he can hear me?” She hesitates, then there’s some fumbling.

“Okay, we’re here,” Shelby says, her voice tinny now.

“Nate? I just wanted to say I love you. I didn’t know about you until last year, and since then, you…and Shelby…you’vebecome my whole world. But Nate? I’ll never leave you, okay? I promise that, right from the bottom of my heart. I’ll tattoo it on my chest. I’ll never leave you, and…I don’t think Shelby ever will either. But I can’t speak for her so…let her tell you. Just…I love you.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone, so I hesitate a moment before saying a meager “bye.”

“Bye,” Shelby says, her voice so quiet I hardly hear it.

Annie helps me hang up.

The relief that Nate’s okay is like a palpable thing inside my chest. And knowing he ran to Shelby—that she’s a safe space for him—my chest nearly cracks with gratitude.

And heartbreak.

Hearing Shelby’s voice again—it broke something in me I thought was already broken. Like a heel coming down on pieces of glass. But it brings to a point how these recent weeks have been. Chaos and pain. Anger and loss.

Relief and heartbreak.

I haven’t been living since Shelby’s been gone. My heart’s been in two places—here and there.

And it’s all my fault.

Annie sits beside me in the sand, which is still wet from the earlier rain. She curls her arms around her knees. “Mac,” she begins.

But I put a hand on her arm. “Don’t,” I say. I know what she’s going to say. “It’s not your fault.”

“He heard me say he never should have been born!”

“That’s not what you said.”

“It’s close enough.” She’s crying. “I’m sorry. This has nothing to do with me. I’m fine. It’s this place. I always fuck everything up when I’m in this place.”

“No,” I say. “Trust me. You didn’t fuck this up. It was all me.”

Yesterday, Nadine left. Just like I knew she would. And she didn’t just say goodbye and take off. She invited Nate to hang out. He went, and she wasn’t there.

---