The girls bent to hold him, and I stepped back to give them room, to let them be, this family who I loved so much, unable to catch my breath, unable to see them through the curtain of tears. Wade hadn't moved, but as I backed away, he reached for me blindly, grabbing my hand, pulling me back. And I sank to my knees next to him, our fingers twined together; we existed only in our grief.
In that grief, time moved without purpose, an absent ticking from somewhere in the room, meaning nothing to us as we were swept away. The surge of emotion overwhelmed us, and when it ebbed, it pulled back through the sand with a whisper, taking us with it.
Wade didn't let go of my hand, just sat once he'd calmed with our hands tied together in his lap, his head bowed and shoulders bent. And when he finally looked up, his eyes held honesty and truth I wasn't prepared for. That moment broke my heart again, just when I thought it couldn't be broken any more.
He let me go, and we moved to stand, finding Rick smiling at us proudly with a quivering chin and eyes full of hope.
"You're what I give to the world, what I leave behind. I am proud." He said it slowly, every word with intention, with concentration, as if it were the most important thing he'd ever say. "Now, we have truth. Hold onto it."
We nodded, smiling back through fresh tears.
"Now, ice cream."
Laughter burst out of us, Wade's coming through louder, clearer than the rest, warming my soul. And I realized how much he'd needed that, needed Rick, needed to be. It had set him free, if only for a moment.
Jeannie and Lou were in the doorway, hanging onto each other while they watched us. Jeannie moved her hand from her mouth, wiping her tears as we dispersed, moving for the kitchen, but Wade stayed behind, leaning in to speak softly to his father.
I closed the door behind us as we left, hoping he could say all that he needed.
"I wasn't sure if we should have stayed or gone," Jeannie said to Sophie as Sadie gathered bowls and Lou unpacked gallons of ice cream from the freezer.
"It's all right," Sophie answered. "I'm glad you stayed. You should spend as much time with Dad as you can."
"Thank you for that. I … This is almost as hard as when we lost your mom." She smoothed Sophie's hair. "I'm just so sorry."
Sophie breathed deep, grey eyes shining. "Me too."
We piled up bowls full of ice cream scoops, different flavors in different bowls for him. I arranged them on a tray as everyone made their own bowls, and we filed back into the room. Sophie and I sat on either side of Rick, taking turns giving him samples of all the flavors we brought. I was on his bad side, so I made sure I was swift enough not to let any fall from his lips.
He chuckled after swallowing when I'd caught a particularly drippy bite. "I'm like a baby."
I smiled. "You're far too handsome to be a baby, Rick." It was true — he and Wade looked just alike, with a strong jaw, gray eyes, and dark hair, though Rick had shocks of gray at his temples.
"Nah. Need a bib. Reminds me of Sadie and the sweet potatoes."
Sadie rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. Not this again."
Wade laughed around a mouthful of ice cream, catching my eye with the spark in his, reminding me so much of days long ago spent just like this. I saw him, the boy I loved, in that moment.
"Man." He shook his head at Sadie. "I've never seen such a mess. I told you she didn't like them, Dad."
"You were right," Rick said.
Sadie pointed at him with her spoon, her gray eyes flashing. "Orange vegetables are unnatural."
Wade was still chuckling, poking at his ice cream with his spoon. "You were screaming like crazy, and Dad was doing the purple prose plane."
"What in the world is that?" Jeannie asked, amused.
Wade leaned on Rick's bed and crossed his ankles. "An airplane that runs on overly-descriptive prose. Here comes the silvery jet on the wings of the storm, into the gaping maw of the giant!" He laughed again. "Sophie hit the edge of the bowl with a screech, and it flipped around about a hundred times, slinging orange goop all over the kitchen."
"Hyperbole," Rick said. "Three times." He opened his mouth for another bite, and I heaped a spoon of double chocolate fudge in.
Wade shook his head, smiling into his ice cream. "Sophie just sat there with her mouth in a little 'o' and eyes as big as silver dollars, covered in orange slop, and then we all died laughing."
I switched out the bowl for mint chocolate chip and waited for him to finish his orange sherbet. Rick's brow quirked.
"Things taste different."
"Better or worse?" I asked.
"Neither, just … different. Farther away. Smaller." He opened up for a bite, and I fed him.
Jeannie stood and began collecting bowls. "Let me clean up, and then we should get going."
Rick smiled, and I noticed his lids were heavy.
"Tired?"
He looked to me when I spoke. "A little."
"It's been a big day. I should probably go too."
"Back tomorrow?" he asked hopefully, and I smiled.
"Of course."
He seemed comforted by that and refused another bite from Sophie. So we moved around straightening up in the library and kitchen. Jeannie and Lou left first, and I didn't miss Lou holding Wade close or touching his hand before she walked away. I said my goodbyes in the library, making plans for the morning before seeing myself out.
The sounds of the girls and Rick talking and laughing carried through the hallway and to me, setting a smile on my lips as I pulled on my coat and scarf. My hand was nearly on the doorknob when I heard my name softly, gently on his lips.
I turned and found Wade before me, but something had changed, something in his eyes. It wasn't forgiveness I found there, but layers of a newfound emotion, indiscernible to me. His hand lifted just a degree, and I imagined him reaching for me before it dropped again. He searched my face, the words he wanted to say warring behind his eyes.
"Thank you," he said after an agonizing moment. "Thank you for being here for Dad, for us. I know … I know it's not easy."
"It's not easy for any of us. I'm not alone in that."
"No," he said simply. "You're not."
"Thank you, too. For letting me be here."
His voice rumbled, velvety and solemn. "I wouldn't keep you from him, Elliot."
My name again, three syllables on his breath.
I nodded; my voice failed me.
He looked down at his shoes and back up, hands slipping into his pockets as he took a step back. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight," I answered quietly and closed my hand over the doorknob, turning it to step into the cold night where I found a glimmer of hope caressing the moon.
9
So Easy
Hurt is so easy,
Loss so simple
In its complexity,
And to fall into
The arms of the dark
Is effortless.
* * *
- M. White
* * *
Wade