She was drunk again. He could smell it on her, and could see the half-empty bottle of Merlot on the counter she'd tried to hide. Still, he smiled to see her, standing in the doorway, leaning against the jam and staring at him with accusation and mulishness.
"I just wanted to say goodbye," he said when the silence between them had stretched on long enough. "My bus is leaving in like a half an hour, so."
"So, go," she said. "Go if you're going. What do I have to do with it?"
"I hate leaving without saying goodbye."
"Why do you even have to go?" she said abruptly. "You never told me anything. I mean, what is it, are you in some kind of trouble?" She lowered her voice. "Is it drugs?"
He had to laugh. "No. Just...I'm needed somewhere else. I have to move on."
"Mr. Goddamn Mysterious," she grumbled. "Mr. Melodramatic. Put on a cowboy hat and get a horse and a sunset why don't you."
He laughed again. She folded her arms and stared down at them sadly.
"You've been a really good friend, Jin. Why can't you just stay. I mean...I actually really..."
He drew her into a hug to save her from having to say it out loud. "I know. I wish I could stay. I just...can't. I'll visit, though. Whenever I'm in the area."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She sighed, butted her head against his shoulder and drew away. Finally, again, she was smiling.
"I'm holding you to that, Jin Tian," she said. "I'll hunt you down if you don't."
He grinned. "I always keep my promises. I'll see you again. For now, though...goodbye."
She was seventy-three when he saw her again, sitting on the porch of her southern home, the matriarch. Six children, thirteen grandchildren.
"You're late, Jin Tian," she said, thumping him over the head with her cane.
"I know," he said sheepishly. "I mean to come sooner, but things got...busy."
"You haven't aged a day. Me...I've gotten old."
"Not so old."
She stood up on creaky knees to pull him into an embrace. She sobbed once into his shoulder but didn't cry.
"You kept your promise," she said.
"I always keep my promises," he said with a tiredness that hadn't been there before. "Sometimes it just takes awhile."
414
so it's better my sweet
that we hover like bees
He liked it best when leaving wasn't painful.
She was drunk again. He could smell it on her, and could see the half-empty bottle of Merlot on the counter she'd tried to hide. Still, he smiled to see her, standing in the doorway, leaning against the jam and staring at him with accusation and mulishness.
"I just wanted to say goodbye," he said when the silence between them had stretched on long enough. "My bus is leaving in like a half an hour, so."
"So, go," she said. "Go if you're going. What do I have to do with it?"
"I hate leaving without saying goodbye."
"Why do you even have to go?" she said abruptly. "You never told me anything. I mean, what is it, are you in some kind of trouble?" She lowered her voice. "Is it drugs?"
He had to laugh. "No. Just...I'm needed somewhere else. I have to move on."
"Mr. Goddamn Mysterious," she grumbled. "Mr. Melodramatic. Put on a cowboy hat and get a horse and a sunset why don't you."
He laughed again. She folded her arms and stared down at them sadly.
"You've been a really good friend, Jin. Why can't you just stay. I mean...I actually really..."
He drew her into a hug to save her from having to say it out loud. "I know. I wish I could stay. I just...can't. I'll visit, though. Whenever I'm in the area."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She sighed, butted her head against his shoulder and drew away. Finally, again, she was smiling.
"I'm holding you to that, Jin Tian," she said. "I'll hunt you down if you don't."
He grinned. "I always keep my promises. I'll see you again. For now, though...goodbye."
She was seventy-three when he saw her again, sitting on the porch of her southern home, the matriarch. Six children, thirteen grandchildren.
"You're late, Jin Tian," she said, thumping him over the head with her cane.
"I know," he said sheepishly. "I mean to come sooner, but things got...busy."
"You haven't aged a day. Me...I've gotten old."
"Not so old."
She stood up on creaky knees to pull him into an embrace. She sobbed once into his shoulder but didn't cry.
"You kept your promise," she said.
"I always keep my promises," he said with a tiredness that hadn't been there before. "Sometimes it just takes awhile."