if only

chapter 27

june

Holding the eighth green paint sample I'd looked at in my hand up to the light, I chewed my cheek and stepped back, tilting my head and considering it against the cabinets in my vintage van.

"Too turquoise-y."

"This is what you wanna get ultra specific about, huh?" Billie joked, prodding me in the side with her index finger. "Not clothes, not cars... paint swatches."

I nodded seriously, but otherwise ignored her, picking up another sample. "I think this one is my favorite."

It was a grey green, more neutral than the rest, but still popping nicely against the black tile backsplash. I could imagine lush plants climbing against it.

"It's good," Billie agreed, nodding. "It's just enough color for in here."

She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her chin on my shoulder. I stretched my arm out and tucked the swatch on the edge of the tile that hadn't been trimmed yet, and sighed.

Her dad and I had been pulling late nights lately, excitedly rushing toward the finish line. We'd already completed building; the bed, the kitchenette, and all the cabinets and extra storage that fit around it. My favorite part was the hidden bench that slid out from under my bed, and the tiny tabletop next to it: a place to write. 

While we worked, her dad talked. He told me about all the little jobs he took when she was little to help pay their bills. What it meant to him when they bought their house, their own private haven, which would later shield Billie from the entire world as he attempted to preserve her childhood there. While he ran his rough hands over the wood of my new table, he remembered her being little, dreaming about dance, music, and love. 

"She used to cry to me," he said with a smile and a twitch of his grey moustache. "She would say, 'Daddy, I'll never love anyone like I love you!'" 

Then he'd squeezed my shoulder with a chuckle. "You're the only one that's made me nervous that wasn't true."

I shook my head now, while she held me in that same space. "Can't believe we're in the home stretch."

"Yeah," Billie murmured softly in my ear. "Before we know it you'll be gone."

I paused; she wasn't entirely wrong. I was eager to get on the road; I had stories for various newspapers and magazines that needed writing, and the space to do so felt vitally important. I wanted to be free, traveling the coastline while I worked through my thoughts. I was starting my career, and I needed the space to do it, just like I'd always wanted.

Only... now I wasn't sure how much I actually wanted it anymore.

I turned in her arms, holding them so she would stay pinned against me, and brought my face close to hers. "Not gone, gone..."

She sighed. "But gone enough."

"You'll be on tour soon," I reminded her softly. "And I promised I'd come with. So, if I'm gonna do this, it has to be now."

She nodded, swallowed, and didn't respond. 

"It's just while I'm figuring it out," I whispered. "I just need... space."

She cleared her throat. "But you'll come home, right? Sometimes?"

I smiled. "Billie, I can't stay away from you. I won't try."

"Good," she said, in an attempt at positivity. "And you'll stay with me? Here?"

I nodded. "If you'll have me."