Outside my window, far down the beach, I could see a group of little kids with plastic pails and shovels, digging for sand crabs.
Jere and I used to do that. There was this one time, I think I was eight, which meant Jeremiah must have been nine. We’d searched for sand crabs all afternoon, and even when Conrad and Steven came looking for him, he didn’t leave. They said, “We’re going to ride our bikes into town and rent a video game, and if you don’t come with us, you can’t play tonight.”
“You can go if you want,” I’d said, feeling wretched because I knew he’d choose to go. Who would choose sandy old sand crabs over a new video game?
He hesitated, and then said, “I don’t care.” And then he stayed.
I felt guilty but also triumphant, because Jeremiah had chosen me. I was worthy of being chosen over someone else.
We played outside until it got dark. We collected our sand crabs in a plastic cup, and then we set them free. We watched them wriggle back into the sand. They all seemed to know exactly where they were going. Some clear destination in mind. Home.
That night, Conrad and Steven played their new game. Jeremiah watched them. He didn’t ask if he could play, and I could see how much he wanted to.
In my memory he would always be golden.
Someone knocked on the door. “Taylor, I need a minute by myself,” I said, turning around.
It wasn’t Taylor. It was Conrad. He looked worn down, exhausted. His white linen shirt was wrinkled. So were his shorts. When I looked closer, I saw that his eyes were bloodshot, and I could see a bruise forming on his cheek.
I ran over to him. “What happened? Did you guys get into a fight?”
He shook his head.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I said, backing away. “Jeremiah’s coming up any minute.”
“I know, I just need to say something to you.”
I moved back to the window, turning my back on him. “You’ve said plenty. Just go.”
I heard him turn the doorknob, and then I heard him close the door again. I thought he’d gone, until I heard him say, “Do you remember infinity?”
Slowly, I turned around. “What about it?”
Tossing something toward me, he said, “Catch.”
I reached out and caught it in the air. A silver necklace. I held it up and examined it. The infinity necklace. It didn’t shine the way it used to; it looked a bit coppery now. But I recognized it. Of course I recognized it.
“What is this?” I asked.
“You know what it is,” he said.
I shrugged. “Nope, sorry.”
I could see that he was both hurt and angry. “Okay, then. You don’t remember it. I’ll remind you. I bought you that necklace for your birthday.”
My birthday.
It had to have been for my sixteenth birthday. It was the only year he ever forgot to buy me a birthday present—the last summer we’d all been together at the beach house, when Susannah was still alive. The next year, when Conrad took off and Jeremiah and I went looking for him, I found it in his desk. And I took it, because I knew it was mine. He took it back later. I never knew when he had bought it or why, I just knew it was mine. Hearing him say it now, that it was my birthday present, touched me in the last place I wanted him to touch me. My heart.
I took his hand and put the necklace in his palm. “I’m sorry.”
Conrad held the necklace out to me. Softly, he said, “It belongs to you, always has. I was too afraid to give it to you then. Consider it an early birthday gift. Or a belated one. You can do whatever you want with it. I just—can’t keep it anymore.”
I was nodding. I took the necklace from him.
“I’m sorry for screwing everything up. I hurt you again, and for that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do that anymore. So… I’m not going to stay for the wedding. I’m just going to take off now. I won’t see you again, not for a long time. Probably for the best. Being near you like this, it hurts. And Jere”—Conrad cleared his throat and stepped backward, making space between us—“he’s the one who needs you.”
I bit my lip to keep from crying.
Hoarsely, he said, “I need you to know that no matter what happens, it was worth it to me. Being with you, loving you. It was all worth it.” Then he said, “I wish you both the best. Take good care of each other.”
I had to fight every instinct in me not to reach out, not to touch the bruise that was blooming on his left cheekbone. Conrad wouldn’t want me to. I knew him well enough to know that.
He came up and kissed me on my forehead, and before he stepped away, I closed my eyes and tried hard to memorize this moment. I wanted to remember him exactly as he was right then, how his arms looked brown against his white shirt, the way his hair was cut a little too short in the front. Even the bruise, there because of me.
Then he was gone.
Just for that moment, the thought that I might never see him again… it felt worse than death. I wanted to run after him. Tell him anything, everything. Just don’t go. Please just never go. Please just always be near me, so I can at least see you.
Because it felt final. I always believed that we would find our way back to each other every time. That no matter what, we would be connected—by our history, by this house. But this time, this last time, it felt final. Like I would never see him again, or that when I did, it would be different, there would be a mountain between us.
I knew it in my bones. That this time was it. I had finally made my choice, and so had he. He let me go. I was relieved, which I expected. What I didn’t expect was to feel so much grief.
Bye bye, Birdie.
