a last page

They are sitting outside at the bar.  It’s humid and Rosie sips her drink. James wipes a bead of sweat away from his face.

James: Are you ready? Do you have anything left to pack?

Rosie: No, finished everything I needed to this afternoon actually.  All that’s left is to pick up the truck tomorrow.

James: What time are you heading out?

Rosie: Hopefully I’ll have everything loaded and cleaned by 3.  I’d like to start driving a little later and just drive straight through.

James: You’re not worried about driving at night?

Rosie: It’s not my first time, if you remember.

James: You haven’t asked me to help you yet.

Rosie: I didn’t think it was appropriate.

James pauses. He leans in and kisses her.

James: Of course I’ll help you.  Do you not want me to?

Rosie: It’s not that. I just hate goodbyes.  

James: I deserve a goodbye, Rosie.

Rosie: We never said what this was.  You knew I was leaving. And I always do this.

They are both silent.

James: What happened to the last guy, if you don’t mind me asking?

Rosie sighs.

Rosie: I have a thing for fireworks.  

James: Fireworks?

Rosie: And mischief.

James: What’s wrong with that?

Rosie: All that’s left behind once the sparks settle, is the smoke in your eyes and a sad smell.

James:  Is that what we are, Rosie? Smoke and a sad smell?

Rosie looks up at him and touches his cheek.

Rosie: My dear James, I think ours will be, or rather already is, one of my favorite stories thus far, short lived as it was.  You filled my last weeks here with moments that were nothing short of enchantment. And once the smoke clears from both our eyes, we will look back on this fondly.  But my darling, fireworks and mischief is all we ever were.

James: Well then, I suppose we should make the most of this little firework show of ours, shouldn’t we?

He stands up and offers her his hand.

Rosie: Where are we going?

James: To say goodbye, of course.

She takes his hand and they get in his car.  James starts driving. He drives long and far before stopping.  He pulls into a dark parking lot.

Rosie:  You’ve brought me here to kill me, haven’t you?

James: Only one way to find out, isn’t there?

He offers her his hand again and lifts her down.

James: Close your eyes. 

Rosie reluctantly obeys and follows him.  The ground is soft.

James: Open them.

Rosie: You brought me to the beach to say goodbye?

James:  You’re not saying goodbye to me tonight.  This goodbye isn’t for us. Look out there.

He turns her to face the water. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply.

James:  You’re saying goodbye to the place you love.  I know this is hard for you. I know why you hate goodbyes.  You think not saying goodbye makes leaving easier. But sometimes goodbye is the best part.  You have to read the last page to finish the book. This is the last page. Finish the book, Rosie.