She's Gone

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We had a good summer together. With most of her friends staying at school and her sister in Europe, I got her to myself for a while and made the most of it by going to the movies, the beach and other places that I thought she might like. She got up at an ungodly hour for a 20-year-old night owl to teach preschoolers for six weeks and sacrificed one of her last weekends to help me with my Lake Rim Run. I forgive her for not wanting to talk to me when I called long-distance while So You Think You Can Dance was on.

Then her boyfriend flew down from Marin last week, and then the two of them were heading out of town in a recently repaired VW to start their junior year of college. But not before indulging me one more time and going on a hike she hated. Her dad and I drove up Saturday to help her get settled, arriving tired and 90 minutes ahead of them at the East Bay IKEA to buy a new bed for her Cotati condo. You don’t complain, though, when you’re down to hours before you say good-bye. Instead, you secretly thank her for one last dinner before we started the long, cheerless drive back. And for not asking for money.

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