The Thing About Sunsets
Silver linings and second chances
Part One— Part Two to follow in April
Glittering water stretched north to meet the pale blue sky, and the largest of Wisconsin’s Apostle Islands broke the horizon.
“It’s beautiful,” Reese said, tearing her eyes from the shimmering sight to glance at Henry.
He smiled, then looked back at the road. “I’m glad you can find a silver lining.”
“So, I don’t have a date for the dance, and I was thinking — ”
Reese blinked the past from her mind. God, that surprising exchange had been ten years ago — why did it have to haunt her now?
Henry casually held the steering wheel with one hand, his dark hair tousled across his forehead. She forced her gaze back to the horizon. Her thoughts should be on what tubes of paint she could mix to capture the shades of the cloudless sky, not wishing his sunglasses didn’t cover his light green eyes.
After a short ferry ride to Madeline Island, Henry came to a T intersection with a sign pointing left: “Kayak Rentals — Open through September.” He turned right, then into a long, dirt driveway lined with towering pine trees. He rolled to a stop in front of a double-wide, his mouth turned down. Reese let him call the shots — this was his mission, his territory.
“Thanks for coming with me.” He snuck a sideways look with uneasy eyes.
“I figured you were going to ask Melanie,” Reese cut him off.
“Melanie?”
The startle in Henry’s voice made her frown.
“You know, blonde hair, legs for days?”
He worried at the edge of his shirt.
“I guess we’d have fun,” he mumbled.
Reese crossed her arms. “Go ask her, then.”
Reese blinked herself back to the present again. “Of course. Go do what you need to do.”
Nodding, he inhaled deeply and grabbed a manila envelope from behind his seat. He exited the truck with a slam, then approached his father’s home with slow steps. It’d been years since she’d seen him have to rev himself up like this. Ten years, in fact.
His gaze roamed the room, his fingers abandoning his shirt to rub the back of his neck. “But I — I wanted to…”
“Come on, spit it out.”
His eyes found hers, and her heart picked up speed. Realizing too late where this was going, she had no way to stop it once her voice caught in her throat.
He took a breath. “I wanted to ask you.”
“Me?” she squeaked, her eyes wide.
Henry smiled out of the left side of his mouth. “Haven’t you ever thought about it?”
Reese had thought about it, more times than she’d ever admit. But she never dreamed he’d thought about it too. For half a moment, she imagined saying yes. Choosing a long and flowy dress he’d like, having her hair and makeup done — a princess plucked from a fairy tale. They’d dance, they might even kiss. But by the end of that half-moment, a tiny voice spoke from the back of her mind:
Then what?
A seed of doubt grew at the rate of a time-lapse video. He might not want to date her, might regret asking her, and if that happened, could things between them go back to the way they used to be? She couldn’t risk a no. He’d been her best friend since forever — she had to preserve that, like a snapshot in time.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispered.
The eagerness in Henry’s light eyes clouded to disappointment as his hopeful face fell. Eyes darting, he searched for an escape.
“I just think you and Melanie would have way more fun,” Reese said. “And I think she wants you to ask her.”
Henry nodded at the floor. “Sure, I’ll ask her.”
He gave her a forced smile that tore into her heart. But as she parted her lips to take a breath and call him back, he pulled the door shut behind him.
Not surprisingly, Henry and Melanie had in fact started dating after that stupid dance. Henry spent less and less time with Reese, creating that first rip in her precious snapshot. But instead of talking to him about it, she’d caged her heart with spite. For her suggestion that he ask Melanie. For him taking her up on it.
Talk to him about it? Ha. At fifteen she’d been entirely too angsty to be that logical. Instead, she’d taken the mature route: she’d stopped texting him, stopped answering his texts, stopped appearing to care. Finishing Henry’s rip and setting the pieces of her snapshot on fire.
She’d thrown herself into painting, sunsets in particular. It’d been easier to chase the ever-changing colors into the darkening Lake Superior waters rather than chase her lost chance. Her lost friend. But every time she’d try to capture the sight, the sky’s colors would shift and morph as the scene she started with slipped by unappreciated. The chase became both her unicorn and her curse, always leaving her unfulfilled.
Henry and Melanie had broken up before graduation, but Reese still hadn’t been able to bring herself to reach out to him in the following years. In her defense, he hadn’t reached out to her either. But when his mother died just before his twenty-fifth birthday, the lasting ache for what they used to have panged so hard she couldn’t ignore it anymore. The childhood they’d shared had ended for him with brutal finality; she wanted to be there for him.
It had taken her days to muster the courage to approach his apartment after the funeral, and as she arrived, he’d been headed out the door to visit his dad, who lived an hour away. Thinking on her feet, she’d invited herself along in the hope of finding a chance to make amends. After a few awkward moments, a relieved smile had slipped across his face, and he jerked his head toward the truck.
Fifteen minutes of the drive had passed before either of them spoke. Having kicked things off with the wildly original “I’m so sorry about your mom,” followed by his standard “thanks,” and then another fifteen minutes of listening to the radio, Reese had found herself fighting back tears. Maybe it was too late for them. But then the state road curved, and the point where the water met the sky came into view.
“Pretty enough to paint, huh?” He’d jerked his chin toward the scenic view with a grin.
She hadn’t been able to keep her own grin from spreading. “How do you know I still paint?”
He’d shrugged. “I see you on the beach sometimes.”
Something had coiled inside her chest and made her bite her cheek to keep from smiling.
The screen door banged open and Henry stalked out, yanking Reese back to the present. Pulling open the truck door, he threw himself inside, then slammed the door shut behind him. Reese sat still and silent, feeling less and less like she belonged here. Taking off down the driveway faster than was necessary, he peeled around the corner, taking seemingly random turns and barely slowing for stop signs. When he stopped short in the small parking lot of an overlook area, she relaxed the fingernails digging into her jeans.
They sat in silence, both breathing hard. Before them, red sandstone cliffs plunged beyond the clusters of white birch and pine trees. Shorebirds rode the wind, skimming the calm waters. The tranquil sight was enough to slow Reese’s frantically beating heart. It might have been a romantic spot, a place for couples to watch the view of Lake Superior beyond the edge of the island. Her fingers itched to take a picture.
Henry pounded once on the steering wheel, and she gasped. His face red, his eyes glassy, he took a breath as if to say something. But then he threw open the door and exited with a slam. She remained behind, her lips parted and her jaw loose, unsure if she should follow. He hopped the log fence and approached the edge of the overlook. Picking up a stone from the ground at his feet, he launched it toward the water, then returned for another.
Each stone thrown toward the horizon fell out of sight, taking Henry’s burst of pain with it. The rock didn’t require anything in return, didn’t need to know the right thing to say. Too bad it couldn’t be as easy for her. She’d never been good with words, and Henry’s outburst didn’t tell her anything about what he needed to hear. Gestures used to be her strong suit. Like when his chocolate lab died when they were ten, and she’d brought over a 2,000-piece puzzle of the Grand Canyon. They’d spent hours on it together in comforting silence, and he’d even smiled.
Right now, he needed her to be that kind of friend again. The kind that’ll just let the moment breathe with you.
After filling her cheeks and letting out a whoosh of air, she opened her door to join him, hopping over the fence with less grace than his long legs had. Shiny tracks ran down his face and disappeared into his beard stubble as he searched the distance for the answers his heart seemed to demand. The redness had receded from his cheeks.
He glanced at her, wiping his face with his broad palm. “God, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to Tokyo Drift around Madeline Island. Lifelong dream checked.”
A half-hearted laugh escaped him. “I don’t know why I let him get to me.”
Henry threw himself onto a patch of grass, the toes of his shoes inches from the eroding edge of the overlook. He leaned forward on bent knees and watched the sun dance on the rippling lake waters. Reese sat beside him, feeling the invitation but still not sure what to say. For a while they said nothing, just listened to the crashing waves and the birds circling the shoreline, picking amongst the rocks. Reese stretched her legs in front of her, ankles crossed, palms bearing her weight behind her. Though the cold wind bit at her cheeks above her tightly zipped fleece, the sun was bright.
“I don’t know what I expected,” he said. “He’s been impossible ever since she got sick.”
Reese’s throat closed at the mention of Mrs. Blake. Since second grade, the woman had been Reese’s mom away from her own home, making her a plate of snacks alongside Henry’s, and telling her off when she and Henry would fight like siblings. Not until the funeral had Reese considered that her friendship break-up with Henry might have carved a hole in Mrs. Blake’s heart too. A hole that mirrored Reese’s own, which bled tears for the lost snacks and open arms, for the time and chances wasted. For the reminder that nothing can ever really be preserved in time. Not friendship, and not sunsets.
She’d watched Henry at the funeral, rehearsing words of comfort in her mind. But anything she thought of felt hollow.
Now, at the overlook, the silence had again grown into a colossal monster between them — she needed to say something. She cleared her throat. “What did you need from your dad?”
Henry scoffed. “Just some legal stuff to do with Mom’s will. Nothing important.” Absently tossing a stone toward the overlook, he scoffed again when it barely reached the edge.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged.
His father had moved here when they were in fifth grade, and she didn’t remember much about him other than Henry’s constant battles with his mom about having to come here to spend time with him. As they sat and looked out at the island’s beauty, she couldn’t wrap her brain around not wanting to be here — except maybe for the months the ferry closed due to ice, though the ice road would be cool to see. And with Henry being an outdoor kind of guy, this place should have been perfect for him. Her heart panged for having such a magical place spoiled for him by his dad being a jerk.
About a half-mile offshore, she spotted a dot of white on the water. The speedboat worked its way up the coast, its tiny engine a faint drone as it passed. It rounded the corner of the island and sped out of sight. Always hiking and fishing, Henry usually took to nature to get his mind off things. But the idea of Reese on a speedboat was comical, even to herself. She’d need something nice and slow. Then she remembered the sign they’d passed at the T in the road.
She perked with sudden inspiration. “I have an idea…”
…to be continued in Part Two, out April 11th!
