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* * * * *
I ambled down Main Street toward the library and Mary Lynn. More and more, I took
refuge in the silence there. It might have been the only place in River Falls where I didn t
feel I owed anyone an explanation. I bought a coffee to go for myself and one for Mary Lynn,
and crossed Veterans Park. The fountain burbled busily and there were birds scattered
around, eating birdseed that I suspected Yarnista owner and avid needlewoman, Sally
Lindstrom, put out in the morning before anyone else was up. I d never caught her at it. I
suspected her because she always watched the birds from the front window of her shop
when she was bored.
I passed the memorial and was walking by the benches, and there was Shawn. Sitting.
On a bench. In my hometown. With his eyes closed, allowing the sun to warm his amazing
upturned face.
82 Z. A. Maxfield
Well, damn. Everything can change in an instant. I d always believed it to be one of the
great truths. But now, for the second time in my life, it had happened to me.
I sat down next to Shawn and he opened his eyes. The moment he saw me, they lit
with a mixture of emotions it would take even the experts at Yarnista a lifetime to untangle.
I saw surprise and more than a little annoyance as he slapped his spare phone into my hands.
 You didn t even tell me where you were going, he said.  I discovered that I resent
that. A lot.
 I thought, I began to say, confused, and then realized I had to type it. I texted, I
thought you understood. I had to come back for someone else. I know I told you that Jordan
needed me. That I couldn t still be with you and come back and be here for him.
He grinned at me, and I wanted to put my hands on his face. His touch would be
warmth and color and vibrant life in a place where I d been feeling all that choked out of me.
I swallowed hard. Those amber eyes sparkled for me. He reached out, I thought, to brush my
hair back. Instead he thumbed the barbell piercing on my eyebrow.
 I never heard you say a word about any of that.
What could I say? He had me there.
Shawn put his hands behind his head and leaned back, once again with his eyes closed,
absorbing the summer morning. I nudged him with my shoulder and gave him Mary Lynn s
coffee. It wasn t strange at all, sipping our coffee in mutual silence. It was the strongest
feeling that I ve ever had: that rightness that we shared in mutual silence. We stayed like
that for a long time until a shadow fell over our faces.
 Hello, Cooper, said Pastor Stan. I looked up and had to put my hand to my eyes
because he was backlit by the sun.
 Hi, Stan, I said, standing up. Shawn stood with me, and I could feel his hand at the
small of my back. Stan was looking at Shawn and me expectantly.
 Stan, this is Shawn, a friend of mine from California. To Shawn I said,  This is Stan. I
finger spelled the name. Because I didn t know how to sign what I wanted to say and the idea
of Shawn hitting town was just beginning to strike me as complicated, I decided to retreat.
 We were just going to the library, I said, taking Shawn by the hand and giving him a
tug so he d follow me. As we walked, I could feel him looking around.
One of the most interesting things about coming from an aging, insular town is seeing
it through the eyes of someone who comes from someplace else. It wasn t the first time I
wondered about the potholes in the street or the cracked bricks in the storefront facades, and
yet, when I imagined them through Shawn s eyes, its homeliness could have turned a little
shabby, its charm a little faded. That s the inevitable consequence of taking something that s
precious to you and sharing it with someone else. There s always the fear that it won t
measure up.
St. Nacho s 83
Yet I knew, as sure as I knew there would be air to breathe as we crossed the street and
everyone would be watching us do it, that he would see everything exactly as I saw it. Shawn
would overlook the aging and the flaws and find in River Falls the same kind of troubled
beauty I did.
 Cool town, he said as we entered the library. I found Mary Lynn in the stacks, and I
hate to admit it, but I felt a surge of pride when she did a double take on seeing Shawn. Faint
color bloomed in her cheeks and she got a sweet, kind of silly look in her eyes.
 Mary Lynn, I said.  I d like you to meet Shawn.
Mary Lynn held her hand out and Shawn shook it warmly.  Pleased to meet you, he
said in his uninflected voice. Her eyes met mine. I m dead sure that the look on my face gave
away everything I was thinking. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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