Jennifer E. Smith

“It wasn't that we forgot. But things like that sometimes get stored away, and there never seems to be a good time to dig them up again. It hurts a lot less to keep them buried. That doesn't make it right, but it's just the way it is.”

“How long till you get her?" "Not long," she says. "Not long at all." He sighs again. "Good." "But dad?" "Yeah?" "Can you remind me where I'm going?”

“That’s the way these things work, kiddo,” he says. “Love isn't supposed to make sense. It's completely illogical.”

“He smiled. "All that stuff can be learned," he said. "What you're doing now, that's instinct. And it counts for a lot.”

“That was the thing about playing with a band, Peter thought. There was always someone else to rescue you when it seemed certain you might fall behind. Only the solo acts left themselves open to those kinds of disasters.”

“Maybe the answer to all of his problems was nothing more than a darkened sky and a glittering city, a lofty perch above the world below. It seemed entirely possible that it was all just a matter of setting and location, and Peter wondered why he hadn't thought of it before.”

“But how could she tell him that the reason she always acted so disinterested in everything was because of the worry that she herself wasn't all that interesting?”

“There are certain things in life that you'll be forgiven for, no matter how thoughtless or stupid or reckless, but if you do that same thing twice, you're on your own.”

“But a small part of him also knew that the reason he'd never ventured anywhere was because of the worry that the reality of the world wouldn't match up to his dreams.”

“He was a professor, a lover of stories, and he was building her a library in the same way other men might build their daughters houses.”

“It's one thing to run away when someone's chasing you. It's entirely another to be running all alone.”

“You know what they say, if you love something, set it free.”

“Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it?”

“Is it possible not to ever know your type-not to even know you have a type-until quite suddenly you do?”

“What are you really studying?" He leans back to look at her. "The statistical probability of love at first sight.”

“Because I was with you," he tells her. "I feel better when I'm with you.”

“Look what a hard time I've given him. But no matter how many times I've pushed him away, he always comes back around again. And I wouldn't want it any other way.”

“Hadley didn't know it was possible to miss someone who's only a few feet away, but there it is.”

“It seems impossible that she could have liked someone like Mitchell when there was someone like this guy in the world, someone tall and lanky, with tousled hair and startling green eyes and a speck of mustard on his chin, like the one small imperfection that makes the whole painting work somehow.”

“This time she didn't bother correcting him. Just this once, she'd like to believe that he's right.”

“Hadley realises that even though everything else is different, even though there's still an ocean between them, nothing really important has changed at all.He's still her dad. The rest is just geography.”

“The clouds are thick as cotton and laced in silver from the sun, and she thinks back to what Oliver said on the plane, the word taking shape in her mind: cumulus. The one cloud that seemed both imaginary and true at the same time.”

“She hates the fact that she won't know. It's feels like the last day of school, the final night at summer camp, like everything is coming to an abrupt and dizzying end.”

“Those are cumulus clouds. Did you know that?""I'm sure I should.""They're the best ones.""How come?""Because they look the way clouds are supposed to look, the way you draw them when you're a kid. Which is nice, you know? I mean, the sun never looks the way you drew it.”

“Well, I guess we all can't have epic loves at such a young age.”

“You," he says, laughing in spite of himself, "are mad as a hatter.”

“Once," he says, "I was flying to California on the Fourth of July."She turns her head, just slightly."It was a clear night, and you could see all the little fireworks displays along the way, these tiny flares going off below, one town after another.”

“I'm not sure I even believe in marriage," Hadley says and he looks surprised."Aren't you on your way to a wedding?""Yeah," she says with a nod. "But that's what I mean."He looks at her blankly."It shouldn't be this big fuss, where you drag everyone halfway across the world to witness your love. If you want to share your life together, fine. But it's between two people, and that should be enough. Why the big show? Why rub it in everyone's faces?"Oliver runs a hand along his jaw, obviously not quite sure what to think. "It sounds like its weddings you don't believe in," he says finally. "Not marriage.""I'm not such a big fan of either at the moment.""I don't know," he says. "I think they're kind of nice.""They're not," she insists. "They're all for show. You shouldn't need to prove anything if you really mean it. It should be a whole lot simpler than that. It should mean something.""I think it does," Oliver says quietly. "It's a promise.""I guess so," she says, unable to keep the sigh out of her voice. "But not everyone keeps that promise." she looks over toward the woman, still fast asleep. "Not everyone makes it fifty-two years, and if you do, it doesn't matter that you once stood in front of all those people and said that you would. The important part is that you had someone to stick by you all that time. Even when everything sucked.”

“When you're on the other side of it," she says, "fifty-two years can seem like about fifty-two minutes.”

“Did you know that people who meet at least three different times within twenty-four hour period are ninety-eight percent more likely to meet again?”

“People who meet in airports are seventy-two percent more likely to fall for each other than people who meet anywhere else.”

“I like how you're neither here nor there. And how there's nowhere else you're meant to be while waiting. You're just sort of suspended.”

“Airports are torture chambers if you're claustrophobic.”

“She's four minutes late, which doesn't seem like all that much when you think about it's a commercial break, the period within classes, the time it takes to cook a microwave meal. Four minutes is nothing.”

“Who would have guessed that four minutes could change everything?”

“He looks at her and smiles. "You're sort of dangerous, you know?" She stares at him. "Me?" "Yeah," he says sitting back. "I'm way too honest with you.”

“Hadley grabs the laminated safety instructions from the seat pocket in front of her and frowns at the cartoon men and women who seem weirdly delighted to be bailing out of a series of cartoon planes. Beside her, Oliver stifles a laugh, and she glances up again.“What?”“I’ve just never seen anyone actually read one of those things before,”“Well,” she says, “then you’re very lucky to be sitting next to me.”“Just in general?”She grins. “Well, particularly in case of an emergency.”“Right,” he says. “I feel incredibly safe. When I’m knocked unconscious by my tray table during some sort of emergency landing, I can’t wait to see all five-foot-nothing of you carry me out of here.”

“You know what they say," Dad said. "If you love something set it free.""What if he doesn't come back?""Something do, somethings don't," he said, reaching to tweak her nose. "I'll always come back to you anyway.""You don't light up," Hadley said, but Dad only smiled."I do when I'm with you.”

“What are you doing a study on right now?" "A study on the statistical probablity of love at first sight.”

“What are you really studying?"He leans back to look at her. "The statistical probability of love at first sight.""Very funny," she says. "What is it really?""I'm serious.""I don't believe you."He laughs, then lowers his mouth so that it's close to her ear. "People who meet in airports are seventy-two percent more likely too fall for each other than people who meet anywhere else.”

“Love is the strangest, most illogical thing in the world.”

“There was enough space out here that it was easy to lose sight of each other.”

“And see those clouds?''Hard to miss''Those are cumulus clouds. Did you know that?''I'm sure I should.'They're the best ones.''How come?'Because they look the way clouds are supposed to look, the way you draw them when you're a kid. Which is nice, you know? ...”

“But Hadley understood. It wasn't that she was meant to read them all. Maybe someday she would, but for now, it was more the gesture itself. He was giving her the most important thing he could, the only way he knew how. He was a professor, a lover of stories, and he was building her a library in the same way other men might build their daughters houses.”

“There's a kind of unfamiliar electricity that goes through her at the nearness of him, and she can't help wondering if he feels it, too.”

“Somehow he'd become the one constant in this whole uneven chapter in her life, & the idea that could change was unsettling.”

“But just as she turns to walk away she hears him behind her, the word like the opening of some door, like an ending and a beginning, like a wish."Wait," he says, and so she does.”

“There's a formula for how long it takes to get over someone, that it's half as long as the time you've been together.”

“Not everyone makes it fifty-two years, and if you do, it doesn't matter that you once stood in front of all those people and said that you would. The important part is that you had someone to stick by you all that time. Even when everything sucked.”

“I can't believe you're here," she says, her voice soft. "I can't believe you found me.""You found me first," he says, and when he leans to kiss her, it's slow and sweet and she knows that this will be the one she always remembers. Because while the other two kisses felt like endings, this one is unquestionably a beginning.”