Nowhere but Home A Novel - By Liza Palmer Page 0,103

want to eat last-meal Starburst?” Everett walks through the great room and gestures for me to follow him. I oblige, still clutching the Starburst.

“I don’t know why I brought them,” I say, walking into his kitchen. Open shelving and a well-used wooden country table invite, but don’t overwhelm you. He opens up the refrigerator and pulls two beers out. He cracks them both open and hands one to me. I take a long drink.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.

“He was a kid. I knew it, too. His last meal was clearly trying to re-create Christmas. And he asked for Starburst, but then he didn’t eat them. I’m finding it’s those little personal things that are getting to me. The other guy ate the ranch dressing that I just happened to add at the last minute. I mean, what if I hadn’t added it?” Everett sets his beer down on the table and reaches over and pries loose the Starburst from my hand.

“I’d heard you were making last meals,” Everett says, setting the stack of Starburst down on the table.

“Yeah.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Not good, but good. It’s weird, I know, but the part where I’m in that kitchen and we’re making this luxurious, once in a lifetime meal and everything has to be perfect—that fits. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. But it’s this. This,” I say, motioning to the Starburst.

“Yeah, I can see that being tough.”

“Your house is beautiful,” I say, looking around.

“Thank you.”

“Okay. I’d better head home. Thanks for the beer and for listening,” I say, walking over to the trash can to throw my beer bottle away.

“You don’t have to go,” Everett says, standing.

“Yes, I do.” I can’t look at him. With his glasses and his messed-up hair. In this house that I can’t sink in and stay forever. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have seen what it is I can’t have. It’s better than I could ever have imagined. I grab the handful of Starburst and Everett steps forward.

“Queenie.” Everett puts his hand on my arm and it immediately soothes me. I lean into him and close my eyes. I can’t look at him or else I’ll stay. I breathe. Think clearly. I open my eyes.

“I have to go,” I say, forcing out the words. I bend around his body and walk toward the front door. Everett follows.

“What did you mean the other day about knowing how this ends?” I ask, turning away from the door and facing Everett.

“You and me. That’s how this ends,” Everett says, stepping closer.

“How do you know that?”

“Because it’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

“But—”

“Did you ever stop to think that I wanted to go with you? That night you left?”

“What?”

“Did you ever consider the possibility that I wanted to leave North Star as much as you did, but couldn’t?”

“No.”

My simple answer catches Everett off guard.

I continue, “You seem to think I possess some superhero level of confidence or ability to read your mind. I felt rejected and lost right up until I hit that blinking red light at the outskirts of town. I mean, I’d seen the movies. I thought you were going to come running down the street—preferably in the rain—and stop me from leaving,” I say, my voice hollow and far away.

“But I didn’t.”

“No.”

“I was waiting for you to burst into that chapel—you know, when they say let him speak now or forever hold his peace. I imagined you saying something like, ‘I object!’ and then coming down the aisle, taking my hand, and leading both of us out of there.”

“But I didn’t.”

“No.”

We’re quiet for a long time. Standing in that great room with the weight of our past hanging between us. Arrow snores loudly in the corner.

“I’d really better be getting home. Merry Carole is probably waiting up.”

I step forward, hesitating just a bit, and pull him in for a hug. I feel him sigh and then wrap his arms all the way around me, pulling me in even closer. I nestle into his chest as he folds over me. I sigh, the softness of his T-shirt against my cheek.

“It was good seeing you,” he says, right into my ear. Low. A whisper.

“You, too.” We break apart and I shift the Starburst from one hand to the other.

“And now that you know where I live . . .” Everett trails off. I smile and nod as he opens the door