Read Leaving Unknown for Free Online

time—and then you leave them behind. Because you can’t really get attached to something you already know you’re going to leave somewhere. So maybe it’s more for…”
    “Maybe.” I cut her off. I was feeling good and forward-looking. I didn’t want to dwell on past missteps. It didn’t help that the first kachina was a girl intertwined with a crab, looking backward. I had a pretty good idea what that one meant. “I’m supposed to keep the last one.”
    “That one?” Jules gestured towards a statue Oliver had decided to befriend.
    “Yes.” I’d noticed right away it was a combination of a plump female mother figure and an owl that resembled my favorite stuffed animal. My protectors.
    “I’m glad you get to keep one. They’re so pretty it’ll be tough to leave them behind.”
    “Yeah,” I agreed.
    Jules finished her beer, then looked at me. “Well, I can’t have another or I can’t get home. And I’m stalling anyway. I guess it’s time to say good-bye.”
    I nodded.
    She unfolded her five foot eleven inches from her chair, and I stood also, two inches shorter. Two modern Amazons without weapons, unsure of what to do next.
    “Take care of the bar,” I said. “I don’t want to hear from Brooks that you’ve been slacking. And make sure Joe doesn’t have a heart attack.” Translation: I’m going to miss you, Joe, and Brooks, but I can’t admit it and I refuse to cry.
    “You, too, girl. Be careful driving, and call me. We’re goingto miss the hell out of you.” Jules, clearly, was much more in touch with her emotional side.
    “You’re psyched to be the only hot gal at the bar!” I shifted us back to banter.
    “Roger wilco.” She hugged me so hard I thought my ribs would crack. Since she initiated, I let her. More than that, I sank into liquid, let the love pour all over me, and drank it in like a greedy child. Just for a minute. Then I pulled away. We were both blinking.
    “You call me, kid.” She didn’t look at me as she gathered her bags of my former stuff. We both knew I wouldn’t call often. It wasn’t really my thing. But for her I would, once in a while.
    Jules stopped at the door. “You know, bad luck isn’t really a thing. It’s like weather. It happens, but it doesn’t follow you around specifically. Sometimes, when you think it’s bad, it’s actually a sign of good luck, like rain on your wedding day.” She looked at me, and recited one of our favorite silly Southern expressions. “I’m not sayin’…I’m just sayin’. There’s no such thing as attached bad luck. But frame of mind, now that stays with you forever.”
    We held gazes for a moment. Then she smiled and said, “Come home soon.” And she was gone. I was breathing fast and shallow, from all the things that wanted to come out of my mouth but couldn’t. Seconds ticked by. Then adrenaline and the voice clamoring in my heart won over my inertia. I ran to the back of the room, then whirled to dash after her.
    Her car was pulling out when I hit the sidewalk.
    “Jules,” I screamed, waving my free arm. “Jules!” I reached her battered Saturn and battered it some more, willing it to stop with the intensity of my need. She hit the brakes and I ran to the driver’s-side window.
    “I forgot…” I gasped, breathless from my sprint. “I forgot to give you these.” I offered the box.
    Jules looked confused, then understanding. She took the brand-new pair of prized red suede boots that didn’t hurt my feet even a little bit.
    “You didn’t have to”—she smiled—“but I’ll take them.”
    “I did.” I still panted. “I did. I’m sorry,” I said for no clear reason. “Thank you.”
    “Don’t ever be sorry and don’t ever feel you need to thank people for loving on you,” she said. “I’m your friend. Even when your ass is all the way in California.”
    I nodded tightly. Facial control was essential.
    “You ready?” she asked. I nodded again.
    She smiled. “Love you.” She