Page 35 of To the Moon and Back
“What about you?” She leaned into his arm a little, her eyes still on the photo. “What do you see?”
“I guess I see what might’ve been.” He examined the image. “That could’ve been us. Inside the building that day. Running errands on the sixteenth or seventeenth. But never on April nineteenth.”
The possibility sank deep inside Jenna’s heart. Her parents hadn’t known they had so little time. Nothing had warned them that if only they had taken that Wednesday off everything would still be okay. Their family would still be together. Same for Brady. There was no way for his mother and him to go back and do their errand another day.
So they’d be anywhere but the federal building that fateful morning.
Jenna drew a deep breath. “I have to go.” Her grandmother would worry about her if she was gone longer than this. Rain still poured outside, so they were stuck in the museum. And Jenna couldn’t bear the thought of studying the rest of the photos.
The destruction.
Brady nodded. He finished his coffee, tossed his empty cup and hers in a nearby trash can and shoved his hands in his pockets. The intimacy that had been between them earlier seemed to fade. They were strangers, after all. Two kids who had grown up with the same heartache, the same sad story.
But that was it.
He hesitated for a minute. “Hold on.” A quick jog to the information desk a few yards away and he returned with paper and a pen. “Here.” He wrote something on the sheet and handed it to her.
Brady. And beneath that, his number.
“You’re in the club.” He smiled, but his eyes were deep with sadness. “Call me. We’ll come here together next year.”
She nodded. The idea sounded good. Brady and her, the two of them here. Their heartache against the world. A smile tugged at her lips. “Okay.”
Brady hesitated. “This is where you give me your number.” He chuckled lightly. “So I don’t have to wait a year to see you.”
Her own laugh caught her off guard. “A year is a long time.”
“A week’s a long time.” His eyes landed on hers and held.
She felt like she’d known him all her life. “Here.” She ripped off a part of the paper and followed suit: Jenna. And beneath that, her number.
“Thanks.” He looked at it and slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll call you soon.” His expression faded. “I will.”
“Okay.” She liked him. Everything about him. “Call me.”
The museum was crowded, people trying to get out of the rain. Even so, Jenna felt like they were the only two people in the building. They were still facing each other. Jenna had a feeling their hearts would be connected, long after they said goodbye.
He took a step closer, his voice quieter than before. “I want to kiss you, Jenna.”
She wanted that, too. But she couldn’t say so. Instead she felt her grin warm her face. “I think we should wait.”
“Yeah.” He was teasing her now. Flirting with her. “Come here.”
They were only inches apart. Jenna did as he asked and for a second she thought he might kiss her anyway. Instead he pulled her into his arms. Not a lovers’ embrace. But something more tender, deeper. Protective. Without any words, being held by him told her that after today she would never be alone in her missing, never be by herself in her sadness. She had Brady now.
She was part of the club.
• • •
RAIN FINALLY BROKE through the clouds and began falling over Schiller Park. As if God Himself were crying because of the memory she had just relived.
Brady hadn’t written his last name on the slip of paper and Jenna hadn’t noticed until she got home. She’d expected him to call her that day or sometime in the next week.
But he never did.
A week later she took his paper from the top drawer in the nightstand next to her bed and realized the rain had blurred the numbers. She could only make out a few of them. She threw the paper away and tried not to feel hurt. Their day together almost didn’t seem real, anyway. He probably has a girlfriend, she told herself. Or he’d gotten away from the memorial and wondered why he’d given his number to a complete stranger.
Months passed and Jenna eventually put him out of her mind. Until the following April, anyway, when the anniversary came back around. But that year Jenna was sick on April 19. Too sick to get out of bed. She figured he had her number, and that maybe because of the anniversary he’d finally call.
