She takes another look at the picture of Peter. Then she gets up to go to the bathroom, and as she closes the door, she says, "All I can say is, if that boy was my boyfriend, I'd never let him go."
My whole body tingles when she says those words.
I once had that exact same thought about Josh, and look at me now: It's like a million years have gone by and he's just a memory to me. I don't want it to be like that with Peter. The farawayness of old feelings, like even when you try with all your might, you can barely make out his face when you close your eyes. No matter what, I always want to remember his face.
*****************************************************
When it's time to go, I'm putting on my coat and Peter's letter falls out of my pocket. Margot picks it up. "Another letter?"
I blush. In a rush I say, "I haven't figured out when I should give it to him, if I should leave it in his mailbox, or if I should actually mail it? Or face to face? Gogo, what do you think?"
"You should just talk to him," Margot says. "Go right now. Daddy will drop you off. You go to his house, you give him the letter, and then you see what he says."
My heart pumps wildly at the thought. Right now? Just go over there, without calling first, without a plan? "I don't know," I hedge. "I feel like I should think it over more."
Margot opens her mouth to respond, but then Kitty comes up behind us and says, "Enough with the letters. Just go get him back."
"Don't let it be too late," Margot says, and I know she's not just talking about me and Peter.
I've been tiptoeing around the subject of Josh because of everything that's happened with us. I mean, Margot's forgiven me, but there's no sense in rocking the boat. So these past couple of days I've stayed silently supportive and hoped that was enough. But Margot leaves for Scotland again in less than a week. The thought of her leaving without at least talking to Josh doesn't feel right to me. We've all been friends for so long. I know Josh and I will mend things, because we're neighbors, and that's how it goes with people you see a lot. They mend, almost on their own. But not so for Margot and Josh, with her so far away. If they don't talk now, the scar will only harden over time, it will calcify, and then they'll be like strangers who never loved each other, which is the saddest thought of all.
While Kitty's putting on her boots, I whisper to Margot, "If I talk to Peter, you should talk to Josh. Don't go back to Scotland and leave things like this with him."
"We'll see," she says, but I see the hope that flares in her eyes, and it gives me hope too.