Page 159 of Only After We Met

I was moved when I saw her, but I managed to wait until the doctor came to discharge me. More than an hour had passed, and the whole time, I asked myself whether this was real or whether I was still high and dreaming. It seemed real though. Her hair was different, with highlights, and something in the way she touched me told me this couldn’t just be a fantasy.

And then there was that name.Leon.

Maybe that was what made me throw on my clothes so fast, grab my things, sign my papers as quickly as I could. Even if I still felt like I’d been hit by a truck, I wanted to see her again, wanted to see them, and I ran down the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator. When I got outside, the early summer sun was glowing high in the cloudless sky. I half closed my eyes.

I saw them from far off. Ginger was sitting on a bench under the shade of a tree a few yards away. I was nailed to the spot for a second, watching the baby she held on her knees try to pull her hair before she managed to catch his little hands. She was smiling. Igathered my courage and walked over, taking one step after another, feeling guided along, unable to take my eyes off of her.

Ginger stood when she saw me.

“You’re out,” she said nervously.

“Yeah.” I looked at the child, and he looked at me. His eyes were brown, his lashes long, his skin so white I was afraid the sun would burn him. He smiled and flapped his hand, trying to reach me. “Hey, Leon.”

He laughed. I thought of how nice it would be to have a life like that, with your mother’s arms around you, without worries, without fears, without burdens. He seemed so happy…

“We should go, Rhys. I should have fed him already. Do you live far from here? I rented a car at the airport; I needed it to bring the carriage.”

“Sure. Let’s go. We’re not far.”

The trip was strange. Strange because I still felt so calm next to Ginger, as if there never had been any distance, like that first night in Paris when I had that weird feeling I’d known her all my life even though we’d just met. There was something deep there. Something between us that remained intact despite all we’d done, all that had been destroyed in those years of comings and goings, falling into and out of love, all those things. When I looked at her profile, gripping the wheel, complaining about having to drive on the wrong side of the road, I couldn’t figure out what it was I felt.

There was also something new there under that strange sensation of normality on the surface. The soft gurgling from the back seat, which lasted until Leon fell asleep, just before we reached my home. I kept looking at him in the rearview mirror, turningsometimes, curious, distracted, unnerved. Even when we were in the living room and I was showing her around, I kept checking on him. Ginger left the carriage next to the beige sofa. After she saw the place, she smiled.

“Things are obviously going well for you.”

“You didn’t know…?” I tried.

“I did. I knew something. Or more than that. I tried to avoid it. But you were on the radio at all hours, you know, especially a few months back, and… I don’t know, Rhys.”

After a pause, I asked, “Why’d you try to avoid it?”

“You know. It wasn’t easy.”

Then I dared to ask the question I’d wanted to ask since I first saw her, the same one I was scared to ask but had to know the answer to.

“Does James know you’re here?”

Looking away, she responded: “Yeah. I told him when I got here.”

“Not when you left?”

“We were on vacation in St. Ives. Leon and me. Just the two of us.” She rubbed her arms and looked over at the carriage where the little boy was sleeping, then back at me. “It didn’t work. We tried, but…” Her voice cracked.

I came closer and held her. She was still so small in my arms. And yet she was a million times stronger than me. We had taken different roads. She’d moved on; I’d moved backward. She’d grown; I’d gotten lost.

“Easy,” I whispered.

“You shouldn’t be the one consoling me in this situation.” Iwanted to keep holding her, but she made some space. Now that she was back, she was here, I couldn’t stand the idea of her leaving again. “I should be mad at you, Rhys. I was on my way to the airport. I wanted to wring your neck. Scream at you… But then I read your messages. I’m so sorry.”

“Ginger…”

“I’m sorry about your father. About everything.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bad friend. The worst friend in the world. That is my fault. But it was a bad time. I didn’t feel ready to reach out to you again, and as the months passed, it just got more and more complicated.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose between two fingers. “We should get some rest and then catch up. I’m going to take a shower while you feed him, and then, I don’t know, we can grab dinner or something.”