Kiss King - Mickey Miller Page 0,106
in her fifties with her golden retriever walks up and sits in the grass near me, taking in some sun. She sets the leash down for a moment, and the dog takes off toward me and comes to say hello.
“Sorry,” she says, getting up and trotting over to me. “Sandy is just really friendly.”
“No, it’s okay,” I smile. “I like dogs.”
She picks up the leash. “Just taking in some sun?”
“I’m new to the city. Just kind of taking in my new life.”
“I hear that. Where are you from?” she asks.
We exchange pleasantries, and a few minutes later, she’s telling me about her dating life as a fifty-something. Soon the conversation turns to my love life and Grant.
“I could never be just friends with him anymore,” I say. “We should have stayed just best friends, but instead we tried dating and now we’re paying the price. What goes up, must come down.”
“Everyone is placed in your life for a reason. I believe that,” she says. “Why do you think he was placed in your life?”
“I don’t believe I’d be in the position I am now—having the guts to quit Greene State—if it weren’t for Grant.”
“How so?”
“He just…supported me in this strange way. No matter what I needed help with, he was there for me. He got me new paints, he took me to the best concert of my life, brought me to the Art Institute. I could go on.”
“He was like a guardian angel, sent to help you find your way.”
My body warms. I’ve always liked the idea of believing in angels, as hard as it is sometimes. I like to at least think that everything happens for a reason. “Yes. He was.”
I sigh. Funny how sometimes telling your secrets to complete strangers lets you talk things out, isn’t it?
“Also,” the woman adds. “Wow. You quit Greene?”
I nod. “I know, everyone thinks I’m crazy for dropping out of the Harvard of the Midwest. But college isn’t for me. The tuition is astronomical, and I finally feel happy. I had this pit in my stomach the whole time I was there. I liked the people, but I didn’t feel like it was where I was meant to be. University and a college degree are for some, but not everyone.”
The dog lays down next to me, and it feels good to pet her soft fur.
I continue. “It seemed like no matter what I did, he was there for me, and not having him here now hurts. But this is a new phase of life and I have to be strong.”
She looks off into the distance. “Men and women can’t be just friends. It’s true. So how are you getting on, moving on from him?”
I think about Grant’s shirt and how I’ve occasionally been wearing it to bed.
“I think it’ll take some time. But I’ve got to move on. I mean, my parents got divorced too. All good things come to an end eventually.”
“Sure. Good things come to an end,” she responds. “Great books don’t last forever. Breakups happen. But this guy—I mean, he sounds thoughtful. I assumed he didn’t know how to give you what you want sexually, or something.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “I just want to make sure there’s not something you’re leaving out of the conversation so as not to sound rude.”
“Oh, no, he can,” I correct. Butterflies tumble in my stomach thinking about being blindfolded up at Grant’s cabin. “He’s…incredible in bed.”
“Are you…a masochist?”
I recoil. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh sorry, I don’t mean like in bed. Why are you torturing yourself by not being with him?”
I lean back on my elbows and take in the soft breeze floating in from the lake.
“I just think like, if we just end things now and cut it off, he can be perfect in my memories, you know? I’m starting my new life in Chicago, and he’s three hours away. I’d rather not spoil what we had.”
“You’d rather keep a pristine memory of something that might have been?”
“Well, no romance can last forever. Look at my parents. They were married until their fifties, and now, bam, divorce.”
The dog sees a bird, jumps up, and barks.
“Well, looks like that’s my cue. Sandy’s getting antsy. But I’ve enjoyed chatting, and I’ll leave you with this. Sure, you could keep some perfect memory of him. But that’s not what life is about. Life is about fucking up, taking the good with the bad. Life’s about sometimes doing something crazy that you might regret. Life is