Chapter 40Cody
40
Cody
When I left Louisiana, I only took three things with me.
A bag filled with only the clothes my mother hated, my favorite pillow, and an old Vans shoebox. It was a scuffed, battered old thing I’d filled with arcade tickets, expired comps, and a bunch of other random trinkets from my visits to Mississippi during those two years before I moved there permanently.
That was the beginning of my secret love story with shoeboxes.
And this fireproof box was the climax of it.
I drove Liem to the cottage and explained my first idea on the way, a little of his diminished spark entering his eyes as he thought it over.
His box was still in the truck, where it had remained since that awful morning in Gulf Shores.
I double-checked that Liem wasn’t just indulging me before we got out of the truck, and his answering kiss was both reassuring and sweet, but his words meant even more.
“I love it, and I love you.”
I’d never forget them.
Shaking myself, I followed him through the house, catching up to him as he went through to the backyard, where Bree was waiting for us. I paused then, wondering why she was holding the scissors like that, clutched in her fist.
Like... in a menacing way.
“Oh dear,” Liem muttered, getting the same vibe from her.
I shared an amused look with Vinh, who stood beside her, though it was edged with tired. We were all tired.
Bree patted the seat in front of her. “I’ve trained for this. Don’t worry.”
It was a credit to our collective faith in Bree that Liem sat in the chair without hesitation, and Vinh and I were able to relax.
Bree and Liem murmured to each other quietly before she made the first cut. I almost called out to stop her but reminded myself of when I’d sat in that chair and let them help me.
That haircut hadn’t truly changed things for me, but at the same time, it had also changed everything.
Angling my head toward the cottage, I invited Vinh to follow me inside. By unspoken agreement, we remained in the kitchen, keeping them both in our sights through the window.
“How much would it annoy you if I asked how you were holding up?”
Vinh moved his dark eyes from the window and regarded me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “None, Cody. You can ask me.”
These fucking Lott brothers.
“How are you holding up, then?”
His sigh was heavy as his shoulders slumped. “Okay. I don’t think I’ve processed it at all, and at the same time….” He paused, frowning out the window. “I have his notebook now. Ari gave it to me before the funeral. It’s full of his projects and designs. Some of them are unfinished, like the storage piece in Liem’s room.”
A notebook full of plans.
Fuck.
I felt sick, but I pushed it aside. “When the time comes to finish them, call me. I’m not sure if Liem wants to stay here or be in Gulf Shores with Ari—if she goes back, I mean, but either way. Call me.”
We hadn’t discussed any of that, but it hardly mattered. Where he went, I went.
Vinh nodded to himself a few times and then turned his gaze back to the window. “Deal.”
By the time they were done, Liem’s hair fell just above his shoulders, with one side still buzzed close to the scalp.
It was a subtle change, as was the lighter way he carried himself when they came inside.
“Nice,” I said in approval, running my fingers through it.
“Yeah?” he asked with hesitance that didn’t suit him.
“Yeah,” I agreed, then kissed him softly, ignoring Bree’s muttered “I’ll be damned. So sweet.”
Vinh made us breakfast for dinner, and we shared a quiet meal around the small dining table at the cottage. Bree set up the laptop again and put on some background TV, probably just to give us all the option to zone out instead of carrying on conversation.
Once we were done eating, we moved together to the front door, and even with his new lightness, I was worried Liem would need to crash soon.
“If you want to go back to the houseboat or want me to stay here again, we can do this tomorrow.”
“No,” he said softly, dropping our hands to put his shoes on. “I’d like to get out.” He smiled up at me as he added, “See the water. Solve some mysteries.”
I’d never been so relieved.
We got back into the truck, and I drove us to the pier where I’d first called LL more than a year ago. Leading him by the hand to the end of it, I directed him to kick off his shoes and sit on the edge. I did the same, sitting beside him and placing the box behind us.
He’d been so strong and so unfailingly himself through everything, even if he didn’t know it. His capacity for love for his family had only grown as he shouldered the burden of sudden loss.
The privilege to be by his side through it was the greatest accomplishment of my life, and I just wanted to give him a moment of happiness. A break from all the sad.
We sat for a while, kicking our feet lightly against the thick, salty air, the birds and lapping of water against the wooden beams below us our only companions. I took his hand and laced our fingers together, resting them on his thigh.
If supporting him was an accomplishment, then loving Liem Lott was an honor.
“Do you want to open it?” I asked quietly.
“Yes,” he answered just as softly.
I rearranged us so my back was against the thick wooden post, then pulled Liem between my legs, guiding him to lean back against my front and sighing with my entire being at the feel of him.
Then I handed him my keys and started to play with his shorter hair, wondering if I could still braid it.
He hoisted the box into his lap, ran his finger over the gritty texture of the thick material, and then pushed the key inside.
It clicked open.
I held my breath.
And as he pulled out each item, one by one, I fell impossibly deeper in love with him.
First was the crumpled drawing of the Mona Lisa. The bad one. The one I’d taken to Waffle House.
That made him smile.
The scrap of napkin I’d written his number down on with purple ink… and the purple pen I’d done so with and then stolen.
That made him laugh as I explained it. I really did have issues.
Then sets of plastic Mardi Gras beads from the parade, the first time I held him in my arms. A photo of him at last Thanksgiving, though technically it was more than just him, but he was at the center of it, his smile so broad and genuine.
I’d stolen the photo from Bree.
“I think I’m actually a criminal,” I said through a laugh. “I thought this would be so romantic, but now that you’re opening this, it feels more like an unintended self-intervention.”
Liem turned to me, his eyes full of unshed tears. “This is…,” he started but then rolled his lips inward as the first tear fell. “This is the best, Cody. Truly.”
“We can add to it,” I explained as I brushed away his tear with my thumb. “You know, make it our box, instead of just my Liem box.”
“Your Liem box?” he asked.
I smiled in a weird fucking way, sheepishly and with my teeth clamped together. “That’s what I call it. In my head. I have a Bree box too. And Bree has a Bree box, but she doesn’t know she still has it. Cause I stole it from her closet too. When I was there stealing the pictures.”
“You’re rambling,” Liem said through a choked laugh-smile, his eyes still wet with moisture. “I love when you ramble. And when you do crimes.”
I dropped my head to his shoulder and huffed. “Nailed it. Thank God I already told you I love you. This would’ve sucked.”
He shook underneath me with what I thought was a laugh, but then a choked sound came from his throat, and I panicked, lifting him by the hips and turning him to straddle me.
“Baby?”
His face was crumpled, but I still couldn’t determine if he was crying or laughing.
“Liem?”
I ran my hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him—and myself—and he offered me a watery smile, his body still shaking. “You’re perfect, Cody.”
“As long as you think so,” I hedged. “I added one more thing to the box this morning, but I took it out before bringing it here so it wouldn’t be confusing.”
He threaded his fingers through my hair, then rested them on my neck. “Tell me.”
“A neon-green stun gun. From your mother.”
He laughed until he cried freely again, and I held him through it until the energy for him to do anything was depleted.
He wrapped his arms around me then and rested his full weight against me, laying his cheek on my shoulder and turning his head toward the water.
Just as the sun began to set.
We watched it go, taking this painful day with it.
And, for some reason, I sent a vow with it to never go back for the notebook I’d left in Gulf Shores.
I didn’t need it. Not anymore.
I remembered every question I ever wanted answered, and my plans now became his plans. My dreams, his dreams.
The rush for greatness and achievement waned.
I held Liem Lott in my arms, and when the sun rose, we would be together to see it.
He would still love me then, as he did now.
And that wasn’t just enough.
It was everything.