Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You by Alice Munro

I be sick? Oh—that sign. That’s all right. I’m just tired of talking to people. I don’t mean you. Have a seat.” He pinned back the tent flap. “Get some fresh air in here.”
    I sat on the edge of the bed, there was no place else. It was one of those fold-up cots, really: I remembered and gave him his fiancée’s message.
    He ate some of the cake. “Good.”
    â€œPut the rest away for when you’re hungry later.”
    â€œI’ll tell you a secret. I won’t be around here much longer.”
    â€œAre you getting married?”
    â€œHa ha. What time did you say they’d be back?”
    â€œFive o’clock.”
    â€œWell, by that time this place will have seen the last of me. A plane can get further than a car.” He unwrapped the cake and ate another piece of it, absent-mindedly.
    â€œNow you’ll be thirsty.”
    â€œThere’s some water in the pail.”
    â€œIt won’t be very cold. I could bring some fresh. I could bring some ice from the refrigerator.”
    â€œNo,” he said. “I don’t want you to go. I want a nice long time of saying good-bye to you.”
    He put the cake away carefully and sat beside me and started those little kisses, so soft, I can’t ever let myself think about them, such kindness in his face and lovely kisses, all over my eyelids and neck and ears, all over, then me kissing back as well as I could (I had only kissed a boy on a dare before, and kissed my own arms for practice) and we lay back on the cot and pressed together, just gently, and he did some other things, not bad things or not in a bad way. It was lovely in the tent, that smell of grass and hot tent cloth with the sun beating down on it, and he said, “I wouldn’t do you any harm for the world.” Once, when he had rolled on top of me and we were sort of rocking together on the cot, he said softly, “Oh, no,” and freed himself and jumped up and got the water pail. He splashed some of it on his neck and face, and the little bit left, on me lying there.
    â€œThat’s to cool us off, Miss.”
    When we said good-bye I wasn’t at all sad, because he held my face and said “I’m going to write you a letter. I’ll tell you where I am and maybe you can come and see me. Would you like that? Okay then. You wait.” I was really glad I think to get away from him, it was like he was piling presents on me I couldn’t get the pleasure of till I considered them alone.

    No consternation at first about the plane being gone. They thought he had taken somebody up, and I didn’t enlighten them. Dr. Peebles had phoned he had to go to thecountry, so there was just us having supper, and then Loretta Bird thrusting her head in the door and saying, “I see he’s took off.”
    â€œWhat?” said Alice Kelling, and pushed back her chair.
    â€œThe kids come and told me this afternoon he was taking down his tent. Did he think he’d run through all the business there was around here? He didn’t take off without letting you know, did he?”
    â€œHe’ll send me word,” Alice Kelling said. “He’ll probably phone tonight. He’s terribly restless, since the War.”
    â€œEdie, he didn’t mention to you, did he?” Mrs. Peebles said. “When you took over the message?”
    â€œYes,” I said. So far so true.
    â€œWell why didn’t you say?” All of them were looking at me. “Did he say where he was going?”
    â€œHe said he might try Bayfield,” I said. What made me tell such a lie? I didn’t intend it.
    â€œBayfield, how far is that?” said Alice Kelling.
    Mrs. Peebles said, “Thirty, thirty-five miles.”
    â€œThat’s not far. Oh, well, that’s really not far at all. It’s on the lake, isn’t it?”
    You’d think I’d be ashamed of myself, setting her on the wrong