Chapter 9 #2
I raise my palm to calm her. “Relax. I’m not judging you or taking this as a point that you need someone to watch out for you like everyone seems to want,” I partly lie.
I’m not going to use this as ammo, but I’m not thrilled with the fact that she takes care of herself last. Bo is resilient and happy, but that doesn’t mean that Summer can’t follow suit.
Summer rolls her lips in, aware that I’m right.
I clap my hands together. “I’ve learned to cook…” Her eyes widen, and she seems impressed. “No other option when I was playing pro. Had to watch the nutrients. Anyhow, we’ll save your taste-testing for another night. I’ll run to the deli to pick up some meals they have. Pasta, chicken?”
Summer’s eyes flutter. “Oh, I...” Then her stance turns confident. “Sure. Thanks.” Her genuine smile looks good on her. It’s honest.
“No problem.”
“Do you think you can stop by the drugstore? They were out of Bo’s bath soap, it’s this special kind of natural stuff I get. They ordered some more the other day, and it should be in now.”
I salute her. “I will complete my mission.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Our eyes struggle to break apart. It’s these long lingering moments that are not good for us. No wonder she fled earlier to get air.
I’m waiting patiently while the older man behind the counter searches in the back for Summer’s order.
My eyes wander around as there is something quaint about Lake Spark in that everything is a throwback to another era.
My sight lands on the wall of jars that are filled with candy that you put in a bag then they weigh at the end.
It always made my grandmother give us stories about when she was younger.
Zac and I would always listen then wrap her around our finger to get caramel toffees.
Young us were charmers and were such a team.
“Summer Nix?”
For a moment my heart flurries from the sound of that name and how my last name sounds good on her. But then my heart drops when I have to remind myself that she has the name because of my brother.
I scratch the back of my head. “Yeah, that’s her.” He hands me the bag with a post-it attached, and I clear my throat. “Uhm, yeah, thank you.”
“No problem.” He smiles brightly at me, and I give him a curt nod.
I’m quick to leave, and when I’m out the door, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Balancing the bag and swiping my screen when I see it’s my mom calling, I answer.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, unsure if today she is doing better than the others.
My parents are also finding a routine again since Zac’s passing.
It’s just, I can’t help feeling that when they talk to me, it stirs everything up.
I’m the other son. The one who is alive and for the most part well.
It’s especially my dad who is quite cold with me.
“Hi, Nash. Just wanted to check in.” She sounds as though today is a good day for her, which is a relief.
“No need to check in,” I remind her as I continue to walk toward my car on Main Street.
She lets out a breath. “How is she? Bo?”
Ah, that’s why she’s really calling. “They’re… they’re fine. Bo seems happy. He’s a baby, after all.”
“That’s nice. He’s growing fast from what I see from the photos that Summer sends. We’re planning a time to come up and visit. And Summer? How is she holding up?”
A sting hits my body. How do I say she’s thriving if I’m not quite sure it’s the truth? I’m sure as hell not going to say that she’s keeping herself so damn occupied that I’m beginning to think she’s running herself thin. Or that me being in Lake Spark only stirs things that shouldn’t be touched.
“She’s doing the best she can for Bo.” That’s not a lie, at least.
“I’m happy to hear. You be sure to help them out while you’re in town. Your brother would have wanted that. He held Summer and Bo so close to his heart.”
I swallow because my parents have no clue the dynamics between Summer and Zac. Let alone when I’m thrown into the equation.
“I know, Mom.”
“I’m actually calling because I need you to check on the house. The realtor wants to take photos next week as we prepare to put the house on the market. But I would like you to run through to see if anything needs to be fixed or seems out of place.”
A grin curves on my mouth. “Would it matter? The size of the house makes up for anything that could be wrong. I’m sure it will sell fast.” Kind of a shame, too. It’s a great house full of memories.
“Maybe you’re right. Also…”
“Yes?”
She stalls for a second or two. “Your brother left you a box. He had set some things aside before… well, he wanted to ensure we saved some things for Bo. I guess he found stuff from when you guys were younger. I set the box in the den before we left to head south.”
Yet again today, I pause in my step before I reach my car. “Oh. I didn’t realize he did that.” Probably because I vanished after he passed.
“He loved you a lot.”
“Zac was special.” That’s why I let him have his gift that ended up being his wife and giving him a son.
“Mmhmm.”
I sigh. “I’ll check on the house, maybe on my way home. Have to run some errands.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Ending the call, I close my eyes for a second to adjust to the fact that I saw him less in recent years when he needed a brother more than anything. Yet, my brother did a kind gesture by leaving me mementos when he deserved more from me.
Still, I get in my car and throw the bag of baby shampoo on the front seat. It’s early, and I figure we have another hour before it’s dinner time. Or rather, Summer can eat after Bo goes to bed, so she doesn’t need to rush dinner.
My drive around the lake with changing leaves doesn’t do much for clearing my head.
Nor does arriving to my childhood home. After parking, entering the security code, and walking into the hall, I do a quick assessment of the place.
I know they still have a cleaner visit every other week and a lawn service for the yard.
There isn’t much to check on, as everything is the way it should be.
That may be a stretch. The house is missing people inside who are happy, far from aching.
Remembering that there is a box waiting for me because our lives are in mourning, I enter the den where memories trickle into my thoughts.
The way Zac would game or have friends over to watch TV and plan BBQs.
He and I would watch movies. Summer would join us, and there was always popcorn being thrown. They were always good times.
I spot the box on the sofa, and I’m not nervous to open it.
Maybe I should be. Lifting the lid off, I instantly snort a laugh.
My eyes are greeted with a game system and collection of his old-school games.
Summer wasn’t wrong about it being in a box somewhere.
There is also a trophy that our friends got us because we apparently committed the best prank on the history teacher on Halloween.
A pack of cards that we would always play when we would visit our grandparents.
A plastic Easter egg because we got roped into manning the Easter egg hunt at the Dizzy Duck when I was sixteen.
I pick up more things from what would appear to be a box of junk but is anything but. One by one, a flood of happiness washes over me. His notebook of drawings, feeling like it’s a piece of art even though it’s mostly nonsense. I toss it to the side.
Everything is out when I notice one last thing at the bottom of the box.
An envelope of photos with the seal broken, and I have a peek at the few, mostly family photos and Zac and me at a party together.
One more that’s Summer, Zac, and me. Different to the one on Summer’s living room mantle.
I turn the pictures for dates. Memory lane suddenly steals my breath, with my entire body experiencing its own clap of thunder.
A date is a reminder of how time passes.
I wave the photo against my palm. I’m not sure now is the time to recap to myself that time passing can also equate to wearing off and making room for a revival or change.
And for now, I just want to get on with my day.
I set the food on the kitchen counter. It’s just rotisserie chicken and a few sides from the deli.
Figured, there would be leftovers for tomorrow.
A quick glance at the oven clock and it’s already time for when Summer must be almost done with Bo’s nighttime routine, so I decide to let her know that dinner is ready since the chicken just came out of the rotisserie at the store and is still warm.
I jog up the stairs but halt when I arrive at the top because I hear a sniffle. Teetering on my feet, I slowly approach Bo’s nursery, and with the door partly ajar with only the nightlight on, I can see that he’s asleep.
Summer? She’s standing over the crib and watching him, wiping her tears away.
She must hear me because her head lifts gently in my direction, and she quickly smears a tear with the back of her hand along her cheek then takes a few paces to the door, silently stepping out, only to turn her back to me to pull the door closed.
My hand comes up to rest on her shoulder. “You okay?”
Her body melts into my hand that suddenly feels heavy.
“Fine. Just dust or something.”
I encourage her to turn around and face me, and even though I succeed, her sight hangs low. “If that’s what you want me to believe then I’ll play along, but something tells me this happens a lot.”
“Can we not make a deal out of this?” she quietly requests.
I blow out a breath. “If that’s what you want, even though bullshit isn’t my style.”
Her puffy eyes give me attention. “It’s not a daily occurrence if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Of course not, you dust the house every other day.”
She appreciates my attempt to turn her sad moment around, but the quarter of a smile quickly wilts, her chin trembling instead. Summer steps forward, and my body reacts by bringing my arms up and engulfing her as she dives her face into my chest.
A hug.
That’s what we find ourselves in.
She creates the barest of inches between my chest and her mouth, only to mumble, “I’m not sure if I’m sad that Zac is gone or…
you’re back, and I wonder too much what it all would’ve been like if our road were different long ago between you and me.
” More tears fall. “Does that make me a horrible person?”
I think I needed to hear her say that. I’m not alone. From instinct, I’m quick to wrap my arms around her and pull her tight to my body. Every bit of distance that I’ve attempted to keep between us over the years vanishes, and it feels as though a key turned.
“Don’t ever think that.” I kiss the top of her head, wanting with everything in my body to protect her from another cry that may escape.
“It hurts,” she mutters before burying her head once more into my chest.
This is where she is supposed to be. That makes me the horrible person, because it’s all I can think about. That she’s supposed to be in my arms when she’s in mourning for my brother.
But now isn’t the time to explore my confliction.
“Today you forgot to dust it seems.”
She chortles because apparently that loosens her down a level. “It was laundry day. I was too busy putting your ugly proboscis monkey stuffed animal in the washing machine,” she quips.
Now I smile out all of my emotion. “You still have your wit, it seems. Come on, you need to eat. We’re not really debating that, either.”
Our eyes meet and they say enough.
Turns out we may just be able to support one another together.
A far cry from arguing in the lake.