Fragments of Us

Chapter Ten: Meal

Milo stepped out of the house, pulling his jacket close as a cool breeze swept through the Portland streets. He had spent most of his time here lately with family, friends, or tangled in memories with Atlas, but today he wanted a change. He felt a longing to reconnect with Portland itself-the familiar streets, the quiet corners he used to frequent in college, places that had been witnesses to simpler times. Milo wanted a day for himself, a chance to lose himself in the city he had once called home.

As he wandered through town, memories drifted to him with each step. Some streets looked the same, while others had changed with new shops and faces. Yet, it all felt familiar, like an old sweater he hadn't worn in years but still fit just right.

After a while, he found himself standing in front of a small eatery tucked between two newer buildings. The weathered sign above the door read "Edna's Deli," and he could still make out the hand-painted letters that had been redone over the years. He smiled as the memories came rushing back. This had been the place during college-a tiny haven for students on a budget, with its homey feel and simple, comforting food that never disappointed.

He pushed open the door, the tiny bell above it ringing with a familiar jingle. The smell of warm bread and spices filled the air, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia. It was as if he had walked back in time.

From behind the counter, a woman with graying hair looked up and squinted before her face lit up in recognition. "Well, if it isn't Milo!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying the same warmth he remembered.

"Edna," Milo replied, grinning as he walked over. "I didn't think you'd still be here."

She chuckled, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Oh, honey, this place has seen so many come and go. I'm still here, though. Not much has changed for me." She tilted her head, studying him. "But you-you've grown up, haven't you? Look at you. It's been years, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it's been a while," Milo said, nodding. "I moved away for work and, well... life just took over."

Edna gestured him to sit at the counter, already reaching for a plate. "Sit, sit! I'll make you something special, on the house. You look like you could use a little comfort food."

Milo couldn't refuse. He settled in, feeling the same comfort he always had here. The small eatery was quiet today, a few regulars scattered around, enjoying their meals in peaceful silence. Edna bustled around the kitchen, preparing a dish that Milo knew from memory would be delicious.

"So," she said over her shoulder, "what have you been up to all this time, Milo? I haven't seen you in... goodness, it must be five, six years?"

"Just about," he replied. "I got a job right out of college-busy, lots of travel, not much time to come back here. But now I'm home for a while, helping out with my dad. He's been having some health issues, so I figured it was time."

Edna nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face as she set a steaming plate of pasta in front of him. "Family always brings us back, doesn't it? Life has a funny way of circling around. But you seem... different. Quieter than you used to be."

Milo smiled, taking a bite of the food, savoring the familiar flavors. "I guess life changes you. I've had a lot of time to think, you know?"

Edna chuckled, leaning on the counter with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Oh, don't I know it. Life has a way of tossing us around, but it's up to us to pick ourselves back up. And what about your friends? That boy you were always with in college... what was his name? Atlas, wasn't it?"

Milo froze for a split second, surprised she remembered. He hadn't expected the question, though he supposed it was inevitable. Atlas had been a regular here, too, back then, and the two of them had spent countless afternoons here over meals and late-night study sessions.

"Yeah, Atlas," he said, clearing his throat. "He's... still around. We're... well, still friends, I guess. Not as close as we used to be, though. Life took us in different directions."

Edna watched him with a careful eye, clearly reading between the lines. "Funny how that happens, isn't it? Sometimes the people we think we'll have around forever drift away when we least expect it." She softened, reaching across the counter to pat his hand. "But you seem to be handling it well. You've always been a strong one, Milo."

Milo nodded, offering a faint smile. "Thank you, Edna. It's... been nice, coming back here. Feels like the world hasn't completely changed."

They chatted a bit longer, Edna reminiscing about all the students she'd served over the years, peppering Milo with stories about familiar faces who had moved on just like he had. By the time he finished his meal, he felt lighter, the conversation with Edna a balm for his thoughts.

As he left, she gave him a small wave. "Don't be a stranger now. I'm still here if you ever need a good meal or someone to talk to."

"Thank you," he replied, feeling the sincerity of her words. "I'll be back."

Stepping outside, he took a deep breath, the cool air refreshing after the warmth of the deli. He wandered through the streets for a while, eventually finding himself at a nearby park. The rain had let up, leaving the ground damp and the air smelling fresh. He walked along a winding path until he found a large tree with low branches, perfect for sitting beneath.

He settled down, pulling out a book he'd brought along, though he wasn't entirely sure he'd read it. It felt good just to sit, the park around him peaceful and quiet, with only the occasional sound of birds and distant laughter from families nearby.

As he opened the book, his mind drifted back to his conversation with Edna. Portland had a way of holding on to memories. The city felt like an old friend, warm and steady, welcoming him back without any judgment. There was a comfort in its familiarity, in the places that remained untouched by time. He was struck by how much he'd missed it, by how he'd carried this place within him even when he was miles away.

Lost in thought, he gazed at the trees swaying gently above him, feeling a rare sense of peace. It was strange, being here now, as if Portland had been waiting patiently for him to return, offering him quiet spaces to reflect on everything he'd been carrying.

He thought of Atlas again, but this time it was just a passing memory, not heavy with regret or what-ifs. It was nice to see that part of his life from a distance, to appreciate it without feeling pulled back.

He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves. Maybe coming back home was exactly what he needed, a chance to reconnect with himself, with the people who mattered. He realized that, for the first time in a long time, he felt more at ease.

Opening his book, he began to read, but even the words felt secondary to the stillness around him, a quiet affirmation that he was, finally, where he needed to be.