Mikey and the Chickadee

Chapter 20 - The End

Stephanie showed up as we returned to my apartment to finish loading boxes and smaller items.

"I don't like this day," she said, pulling me close to her, not letting go for several seconds. She looked up at my building. "Will you miss the place?"

"In a strange way, yeah."

She didn't ask me what I meant. She probably knew already, in her own way.

After another two hours spent toiling at the relaxed pace to which my family was accustomed, the last of everything was packed into the truck. My dad chugged away, one arm out the window, waving back at us as he left for home. We stayed behind to do some final cleaning.

"Jesus, Wyatt, did you ever mop this floor?" Stephanie was down on her hands and knees scrubbing at a dark spot in the linoleum close to the stove.

"Once or twice," I said. "I didn't ask you to do that, by the way. Keep in mind that it wasn't perfect when I moved in."

"When was this place last renovated?"

"Once in the 80s, I think."

She stopped scrubbing. "Oh my god, it's older than me."

My mom laughed from the bathroom.

All the while I checked my phone for an answer from Mikey. I only half-expected something. Based on the text I'd received from Sophie, I figured he would want to see me, too, but I didn't know for sure. Nothing had come by the time we were ready to leave around four, so I tucked it back into my pocket and left both copies of the apartment key on the kitchen counter. Carrying my vacuum under one arm, I locked the door from the inside and closed it behind me for the last time. I followed my mom and sister, who made their way down the steps.

My phone wouldn't make a sound until after we'd finished dinner, once Stephanie had left and my mom and I had cleaned up after a game of Scrabble. I had denied myself any real hope that a reply would ever come at all, but that's exactly what it was.

"Sorry," it read, "had to go into work today to prepare for being gone again. I got home and decided I should wait to text you until after I'd read it. Beautiful. I don't know if you're trying to say anything by having it go down the way it did. I'm worried I'm reading into things. I want to see you so bad. Please come over tonight if you can."

"Mom," I said. "Mikey texted me back. He wants to see me tonight."

She looked up from her tablet. "Well Jesus Christ, Wyatt, go see him then."

I went down the hall to the bedroom, where my dad lay on the bed reading. I thanked him for all his help and he smiled back at me.

"Wyatt," my mom said quietly as I put on my shoes, "all your things are safe here in the garage."

I looked up at her. "Thank you, Mom."

"What I mean to say is, if we're not bringing it up to Fern Hill tomorrow...no matter what we end up doing with it all...it's safe here for the time being." Her eyes returned to the screen.

"I understand," I said as I straightened up. "What you're saying means a lot to me. I'll let you know what happens."

I left the house and waited for about ten minutes at the side of the highway for the next bus. Once I had boarded, I began crafting a text to Jennifer. I struggled with it, keenly aware of the full impact of my actions. Finally I came up with something I could live with. I looked it over once more, removed the middle of three apologies and sent it.

Her reply came back quickly, as if she had already prepared herself for this outcome. "Aww, Wyatt, I know you. You wouldn't be doing this without a lot of thought. No hard feelings. We can work out the details later. I'll miss you up there. Proud of you for following your heart."