Page 54 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nick
I will look at a painting on a wall and see life. See curiosity. See transgression against what came before. But I will look at you and yes, I will see truth or beauty, beauty and truth, or a bit like Keats put it,all I know on earth and all I need to know.
As the day wore on, I grew quieter. By the time we met Art, Alicia, and Rob for a celebratory toast and meal, I had spent all my words. My mind had filled and filled, and I didn’t have anywhere to go with the thoughts until I got back to the apartment and could safely release them on the page.
Spending the afternoon with Summer had been dream-like—surreal, just like we’d talked about. Some of that stemmed from finally visiting a place I’d always wanted to go to, ever since Gran had described her experience years back. But much of it came from being therewith her. In some ways, maybe it had been stupid to take her there. It was a memory I’d always have, and now, it’d be inextricably linked to Summer. Whenever time ran out for us, the experience would be tinged with sadness and loss.
And I’d had too much loss. At thirty-seven, I’d lost too many people, and I hadn’t had many to start. I didn’t want to lose Summer, and yet I recognized she wasn’t mine to begin with.
She’d seemed pleased with the idea of us dating.Good. I wanted that, even if I didn’t know exactly what it would look like. She’d proven to have depth, and to be interested in me beyond the physical—though we clearly had chemistry. Her compassion when I told her about Gran weeks ago, her reaction when I told her about the museum… it was all more thoughtful and real than I’d had with anyone before.
The positive to taking her to the museum came from seeing her adapt to something she clearly wouldn’t have been interested in otherwise. I didn’t mind that, especially since she didn’t seem uncomfortable with the experience. She might not’ve visited and spent a few hours wandering through a modern art museum on her own, but she hadn’t been restless or critical or irritated. I’d dated more than one woman who had no interest in the arts and simply couldn’t stand that I did. I didn’t need someone who shared my every passion, but I did need someone who could support what I liked without disparaging it.
These small revelations had come over time and were partly responsible for why I so very, very rarely tried to date anymore. But Summer had busted through that, with her food and her stubbornness and her showing up on my doorstep insisting on caring for me. That care had snuck by my usual rejection of any physical attraction, and lately, any desire to get to know someone. She barreled right through with her delicious, persistent offerings, and I could only thank God I hadn’t been fool enough to continue refusing them.
I did my best to reenter the moment, the pub food now cleared away, and only half-empty room-temperature, dark English beers remaining on the table.
“You all did amazing. I can’t believe how accomplished you are, and this isn’t even your full-time focus.”
Summer had been effusive and warm, as usual, but her praise for the team had served to increase the celebratory feel. She made everyone feel good about what they’d done and had drawn us all back together. Not that there had been division or awkwardness, but simply that she made the moment better.
“Thanks for stepping in to fill the med role. Pretty boring for you, but hopefully you had some fun this weekend.”
Rob’s comment came with a little twinkle in his eye, like he knew exactly how I felt about Summer and suspected he knew how she felt about me.
A bolt of longing jagged through my chest. I wanted to know how she felt. I needed to understand if I was alone out here in these ever-deepening waters of feeling.
After another half hour of chatting, we all wandered home. Summer knitted our hands together, and my stomach dropped low. Any touch from her sent my senses reeling for a moment before they adjusted and reoriented to orbit around the connection.
Inside, they all grabbed drinks and planned to play a game in the living room. I didn’t pay much attention, because the need to be alone had gripped me, and I had no chance of shaking it loose. I said good night to everyone, but Summer caught my eye before I turned down the hallway to our rooms.
“Are you okay?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Yes. Just tired.”
Her gaze swept over me head to toe, searching for the cause of my exhaustion. She looked like she might say something, but instead leaned up and pressed a kiss to my cheek. With a hand on her back to encourage her to linger, my eyes shut and I inhaled her scent, her warmth, and the sensation of her lips on my skin.
“Sleep well. I’ll see you bright and early.”
I nodded and watched her pad back down the hallway to the living room. Rob’s boisterous laughter filtered in from the space as I shut the door on the noise.
The mix of emotions welling in me felt like an iron singeing my chest. The day had been triumphant, full of beauty, and special. But lingering at the edges and slipping through those lighter feelings came grief.
The person who’d known me better than anyone else on Earth, who’d known me as I grew up, and as I became an adult, was gone. Gone even more entirely than she had been the last few years. Even though she hadn’t known me since before I came to Germany, I hadn’t thought of her as gone. I’d thought of her as missing. Parts of her missing. But now, her soul lived somewhere else, and mine felt bruised. Smashed down.
I braced my hands on the wall and breathed through the clenching rush of sadness. Not two months ago, this would’ve felt more like brokenness than anything else. It would’ve felt like parts of me were falling off and shattering on the floor with each breath. That I stood and stayed together, this signaled progress. And much of it had to do with the people down the hallway, laughing and chatting and letting me be a bit morose and lonely because that’s how I was.
Rob had been a friend to me in a way few had. Many people were kind, and some made an effort, but Rob’s presence in my gym had forced me to let him see a bit more of me. And perhaps his attention to detail had let him see past the stern, quiet face and into the shades of grief that’d become darker when the loss I’d known was coming finally arrived. Plus, he got credit for Butter. I never would’ve imagined enjoying a little beast like him, and I had Rob to thank for him too.
Art and Alicia, who’d been with me longest, provided stability and grace simply by showing up and trusting me with their training.
And Summer. My heart squeezed at the thought of her, wringing out the bloody rags of grief and brightening. She made me laugh and relax and want things I’d never actually thought I’d have.
A conversation I’d had with Gran years back played in my head.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever find someone.” I said this as an apology because I knew she wanted me “settled,” as she called it, before she lost any more.
