After that, I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of an international trip. Maybe I should have. I realize that now, after knowing how much she resented my caution. And honestly, I don’t blame her. Her life is not my life, and even though my only goal was to give her life more length, all she’s ever wanted is a life with more substance.
I can see movement out of the corner of my eye, so I turn and look up, just as Sydney makes her way up the ramp to the U-Haul with two Blizzards in her hands. She’s wearing one of my Sounds of Cedar T-shirts, and it’s hanging off her shoulder because it’s too big for her. If I had my way, she’d wear one of my shirts every day for the rest of our lives. I love this effortless look on her.
She smiles and hands me one of the Blizzards. She pulls the spoon out of hers and licks ice cream from it, then closes her mouth over the spoon.
I grin. “I think I like yours better, and I don’t even know what flavor you got.”
She smiles and stands on her tiptoes, kissing me briefly on the lips. “Oreo,” she says. She pokes at her ice cream with her spoon and nods her head toward the sheet of paper I’m still holding. “What’s that?”
I look down at the list, wondering if it’s my place to even share something like this with her since it isn’t mine. “Maggie’s bucket list. It was on the floor.” I set it down on the dresser and grab the suitcase. “Thank you for the ice cream.” I kiss her on the cheek and make my way out of the U-Haul. When I turn around to see if she’s following me, she isn’t.
She’s picking up the sheet of paper.
When I was eight years old, we went on a road trip to California. My father stopped at Carlsbad Caverns National Park just in time for the bat flight. I was scared to death and hated every second of it.
When I was eleven, we spent two weeks on a train tour of Europe. We saw the Eiffel Tower, we went to Rome, we visited London. I have the picture of my mother and me on my refrigerator that my father took of us in front of Big Ben.
I’ve been to Vegas once with Tori. We went for my twenty-first birthday and stayed one night because we couldn’t afford more than that, and Hunter was upset that I was gone on my birthday.
I’ve done several things that are on Maggie’s bucket list, and while I didn’t take the trips for granted, I certainly don’t think I appreciated them enough. I’ve never thought about writing a bucket list or what would even be on it if I did. I don’t plan that far ahead.
That’s just the thing, though. Neither does Maggie. But far ahead for her and far ahead for me have two completely different meanings.
I set my Blizzard on top of the dresser and stare at number seven on the list. Bungee jump.
I’ve never been bungee jumping. I can’t say that it would have been a bucket list item for me, but the fact that it’s a bucket list item for Maggie and she asked me to join her gives the entire sentiment a whole new meaning.
I fold the list and grab my ice cream, then make my way out of the U-Haul and up to Ridge’s apartment. Ridge is in the kitchen with Warren. They’re leaning against the counter, finishing their ice cream. Bridgette is probably taking a shower because she smelled like chicken wings. I walk to Maggie’s bedroom, and she’s kneeling in front of her suitcase, rifling through it. She looks up to see me standing in the doorway.
“Can I come in?”
She nods, so I walk in and sit on her mattress. I set my cup on the floor next to the mattress and pick up her list. “Found this,” I say, holding it up for her to see. She’s just a few feet away, so she reaches over and grabs it, then glances down at it. She makes a face like it’s as useless as trash and then tosses it on the bed.
“I was a big dreamer.” She gives her full attention back to her suitcase.
“This might make you think less of me,” I say. “But I’ve been to Paris, and I probably shouldn’t admit this, but the Eiffel Tower looks just like a really big transmission tower. It’s kind of underwhelming.”
Maggie laughs. “Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t admit that to anyone else.” She folds the top of her suitcase shut and then moves to the bed, lying down on her stomach. She grabs the list and pulls it in front of her. “I crossed off three of these in one day.”
I remember the day she went skydiving because it wasn’t that long ago. Which means…the one-night stand wasn’t that long ago, either. I’m curious about it, but I’m not sure we’re at a point where I want to ask about her sex life.
“Most of the other ones I wrote down are a little far-fetched. I get sick too easily and too often to travel internationally.”
I look at the Vegas one. “Why would you want to lose five grand instead of win five grand?”
She rolls onto her back and looks up at me. “If I had five grand to lose, it means I’d be rich. Being rich is an inadvertent item on my bucket list.”
I laugh. “Do you plan on doing anything else on the list other than bungee jump?”
She shakes her head. “It’s really hard for me to travel. I’ve tried it a couple of times and never made it very far. I have too much medical equipment. Too many medications to worry about. It’s really not all that fun for me, but I didn’t realize it when I wrote the list.”
I hate that for her. I almost want to alter a couple of these just so she can mark more of them out. “How far are you able to travel without it being an inconvenience?”
She shrugs. “Day trips are cool. And I could probably go somewhere for a couple of nights, but there’s nowhere around here I haven’t already been. Why?”
“One sec.” I stand up and walk to the living room and grab a pen and spiral notebook off the table. I walk it back to Maggie’s room, feeling Ridge and Warren watching me the whole time. I turn around and smile at them before walking back to Maggie’s bed. I place her bucket list on the spiral notebook. “I think with a little modification, these are all doable.”
Maggie lifts up onto her elbow, curious as to what I’m doing. “What kind of modification?”
I scroll down the list. I stop on Carlsbad Caverns. “What interests you about Carlsbad? The bats or the caves?”
“The caves,” she says. “I’ve seen the bat flights here in Austin a dozen times.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing an open parenthesis next to Carlsbad Caverns on the list. “You could go to the Inner Space Cavern in Georgetown. Probably not nearly as cool as Carlsbad, but it’s definitely a cave.”
Maggie stares at the list for a moment. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m crossing a line by writing on her bucket list. I almost hand her back the list and apologize, but she leans over and points at the Eiffel Tower. “There’s a mock Eiffel Tower in Paris, Texas.”
I smile when she says that, because it means we’re on the same page. I write “Eiffel tower in Paris, Texas” next to number nine.
I scroll the list again with the pen and then pause at number three. See the Northern Lights. “Have you ever heard of the Marfa lights in West Texas?”
Maggie shakes her head.
“Doubt it’s even remotely the same, but I’ve heard you can camp out there and watch them.”
“Interesting,” Maggie says. “Write it down.” I write Marfa lights in parentheses next to Northern Lights. She points to number four. Eat Spaghetti in Italy. “Isn’t there a town somewhere in Texas called Italy?”
“Yeah, but it’s really small. Not even sure they’d have an Italian restaurant, but it’s close to Corsicana, so you could get spaghetti to go and take it to a park in Italy.”
Maggie laughs. “That sounds really pathetic, but definitely doable.”
“What else?” I ask, scrolling the list. She’s already apparently driven a racecar and had a one-night stand, which we’ve successfully avoided discussing. The only thing left that we haven’t modified is Vegas. I point to it with the pen. “There are casinos right outside of Paris, TX. Technically, you could just go there after visiting the fake Eiffel Tower. And maybe you should”—I scratch out two of the zeros—“only lose fifty dollars instead of five grand.”
I can see movement out of the corner of my eye, so I turn and look up, just as Sydney makes her way up the ramp to the U-Haul with two Blizzards in her hands. She’s wearing one of my Sounds of Cedar T-shirts, and it’s hanging off her shoulder because it’s too big for her. If I had my way, she’d wear one of my shirts every day for the rest of our lives. I love this effortless look on her.
She smiles and hands me one of the Blizzards. She pulls the spoon out of hers and licks ice cream from it, then closes her mouth over the spoon.
I grin. “I think I like yours better, and I don’t even know what flavor you got.”
She smiles and stands on her tiptoes, kissing me briefly on the lips. “Oreo,” she says. She pokes at her ice cream with her spoon and nods her head toward the sheet of paper I’m still holding. “What’s that?”
I look down at the list, wondering if it’s my place to even share something like this with her since it isn’t mine. “Maggie’s bucket list. It was on the floor.” I set it down on the dresser and grab the suitcase. “Thank you for the ice cream.” I kiss her on the cheek and make my way out of the U-Haul. When I turn around to see if she’s following me, she isn’t.
She’s picking up the sheet of paper.
When I was eight years old, we went on a road trip to California. My father stopped at Carlsbad Caverns National Park just in time for the bat flight. I was scared to death and hated every second of it.
When I was eleven, we spent two weeks on a train tour of Europe. We saw the Eiffel Tower, we went to Rome, we visited London. I have the picture of my mother and me on my refrigerator that my father took of us in front of Big Ben.
I’ve been to Vegas once with Tori. We went for my twenty-first birthday and stayed one night because we couldn’t afford more than that, and Hunter was upset that I was gone on my birthday.
I’ve done several things that are on Maggie’s bucket list, and while I didn’t take the trips for granted, I certainly don’t think I appreciated them enough. I’ve never thought about writing a bucket list or what would even be on it if I did. I don’t plan that far ahead.
That’s just the thing, though. Neither does Maggie. But far ahead for her and far ahead for me have two completely different meanings.
I set my Blizzard on top of the dresser and stare at number seven on the list. Bungee jump.
I’ve never been bungee jumping. I can’t say that it would have been a bucket list item for me, but the fact that it’s a bucket list item for Maggie and she asked me to join her gives the entire sentiment a whole new meaning.
I fold the list and grab my ice cream, then make my way out of the U-Haul and up to Ridge’s apartment. Ridge is in the kitchen with Warren. They’re leaning against the counter, finishing their ice cream. Bridgette is probably taking a shower because she smelled like chicken wings. I walk to Maggie’s bedroom, and she’s kneeling in front of her suitcase, rifling through it. She looks up to see me standing in the doorway.
“Can I come in?”
She nods, so I walk in and sit on her mattress. I set my cup on the floor next to the mattress and pick up her list. “Found this,” I say, holding it up for her to see. She’s just a few feet away, so she reaches over and grabs it, then glances down at it. She makes a face like it’s as useless as trash and then tosses it on the bed.
“I was a big dreamer.” She gives her full attention back to her suitcase.
“This might make you think less of me,” I say. “But I’ve been to Paris, and I probably shouldn’t admit this, but the Eiffel Tower looks just like a really big transmission tower. It’s kind of underwhelming.”
Maggie laughs. “Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t admit that to anyone else.” She folds the top of her suitcase shut and then moves to the bed, lying down on her stomach. She grabs the list and pulls it in front of her. “I crossed off three of these in one day.”
I remember the day she went skydiving because it wasn’t that long ago. Which means…the one-night stand wasn’t that long ago, either. I’m curious about it, but I’m not sure we’re at a point where I want to ask about her sex life.
“Most of the other ones I wrote down are a little far-fetched. I get sick too easily and too often to travel internationally.”
I look at the Vegas one. “Why would you want to lose five grand instead of win five grand?”
She rolls onto her back and looks up at me. “If I had five grand to lose, it means I’d be rich. Being rich is an inadvertent item on my bucket list.”
I laugh. “Do you plan on doing anything else on the list other than bungee jump?”
She shakes her head. “It’s really hard for me to travel. I’ve tried it a couple of times and never made it very far. I have too much medical equipment. Too many medications to worry about. It’s really not all that fun for me, but I didn’t realize it when I wrote the list.”
I hate that for her. I almost want to alter a couple of these just so she can mark more of them out. “How far are you able to travel without it being an inconvenience?”
She shrugs. “Day trips are cool. And I could probably go somewhere for a couple of nights, but there’s nowhere around here I haven’t already been. Why?”
“One sec.” I stand up and walk to the living room and grab a pen and spiral notebook off the table. I walk it back to Maggie’s room, feeling Ridge and Warren watching me the whole time. I turn around and smile at them before walking back to Maggie’s bed. I place her bucket list on the spiral notebook. “I think with a little modification, these are all doable.”
Maggie lifts up onto her elbow, curious as to what I’m doing. “What kind of modification?”
I scroll down the list. I stop on Carlsbad Caverns. “What interests you about Carlsbad? The bats or the caves?”
“The caves,” she says. “I’ve seen the bat flights here in Austin a dozen times.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing an open parenthesis next to Carlsbad Caverns on the list. “You could go to the Inner Space Cavern in Georgetown. Probably not nearly as cool as Carlsbad, but it’s definitely a cave.”
Maggie stares at the list for a moment. I’m not sure if she thinks I’m crossing a line by writing on her bucket list. I almost hand her back the list and apologize, but she leans over and points at the Eiffel Tower. “There’s a mock Eiffel Tower in Paris, Texas.”
I smile when she says that, because it means we’re on the same page. I write “Eiffel tower in Paris, Texas” next to number nine.
I scroll the list again with the pen and then pause at number three. See the Northern Lights. “Have you ever heard of the Marfa lights in West Texas?”
Maggie shakes her head.
“Doubt it’s even remotely the same, but I’ve heard you can camp out there and watch them.”
“Interesting,” Maggie says. “Write it down.” I write Marfa lights in parentheses next to Northern Lights. She points to number four. Eat Spaghetti in Italy. “Isn’t there a town somewhere in Texas called Italy?”
“Yeah, but it’s really small. Not even sure they’d have an Italian restaurant, but it’s close to Corsicana, so you could get spaghetti to go and take it to a park in Italy.”
Maggie laughs. “That sounds really pathetic, but definitely doable.”
“What else?” I ask, scrolling the list. She’s already apparently driven a racecar and had a one-night stand, which we’ve successfully avoided discussing. The only thing left that we haven’t modified is Vegas. I point to it with the pen. “There are casinos right outside of Paris, TX. Technically, you could just go there after visiting the fake Eiffel Tower. And maybe you should”—I scratch out two of the zeros—“only lose fifty dollars instead of five grand.”
