“Mom . . . I don’t want to be mad at them anymore. I know it was an accident, but when I see them, Gray or Gina, something tightens right here.” I shoved my fingers into the place at the bottom of my rib cage. “Will that ever go away?”
My mother stroked my hair and gave me an honest answer. “I don’t know.”
“I hate hate.”
“Me too, Sadie. Me too.”
She didn’t try to fix the hurt or offer trite expressions. My mother spoke with her arms, tightening them around my body, until my breathing returned to normal. I lingered there in her safety until my stomach settled enough so I could stand.
“What do you say we call it a day?” she said. Then she gathered up the jeans I never tried on and slipped out of the room.
I followed her example. She was at the counter, buying all four pair of jeans, so I darted toward the door and escaped. Max’s hand found mine again, and he walked us away from the crowds. Back at the van, he opened my door for me and handed me a sack.
“You won’t want it yet, but I want to be there when you do.” Then he kissed my temple, a tiny peck, and walked around to the other side of the van.
I touched the place where his lips had been and looked at the sack. It was from a store where I used to shop. I peeked inside and saw Max’s purchase.
A tank top.
Across the front was the popular “You Only Live Once” saying. Bold lines marked through all the words except Live. Cutting my eyes to the back row, I mouthed a polite thank-you.
“That baby blue will look awesome with your eyes,” he said.
“Thank you.”
Wear a tank top in public. It was first on my list.
Max’s optimism concerned me. What if this thing that had grown between us was based on who he thought I might be someday rather than who I was? Even though he’d lost his brother, his progress looked like an ascent rather than a plateau. So far, I hadn’t figured out how to accept the new story of my life. Should I shut down this hand-holding, heart-holding kindness before it heaped more heartache on us both?
I didn’t want to.
I wanted to put on a tank top and walk in the sunshine with Max. All the way home, I imagined a world where I could.
When we pulled into the driveway, I surprised everyone by following Max into his house instead of mine. I didn’t want to try on jeans or put away clothes or see my traitorous bird. I wanted company.
That was a good change.
We sat in each other’s space, close enough that we shared a couch cushion. After a year apart, happiness was the comfort of being able to hug each other anytime we wanted. Sonia popped kettle corn and put on an old version of Peter Pan. We didn’t watch much of the movie, but we did discuss all the films and television shows he’d missed over the past year. Everything from Woody Allen to Christopher Nolan to Wes Anderson to Aaron Sorkin. Max made a “Must Watch These Together” list. It would take ten years to get through all the titles he wanted to see with me. I liked that idea.
“You know my favorite show of all time—”
“Is Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” he said.
“Did I tell you that before?” I asked, thinking about Big.
“No. I’m just observant.”
Or was he covering up a little slip?
That thought made me switch the topic to his life in El Salvador. “Speaking of observant, I want to see all your El Salvador pictures.”
After scrolling through a thousand photos, we ate BLTs at the kitchen counter and talked until his voice was gone and I didn’t have much to say.
By six o’clock, a heaviness made our twosome a threesome. Without a word, Max led me into Trent’s room, and we both curled up in his bed. Him on one side. Me against the wall. I was in a bed with my boyfriend, and we were both thinking about his brother. It wasn’t romantic; it was exactly what I needed.
“I’ve been sleeping in here,” Max said.
“I took a nap in here once while you were gone.”
We tried to hold each other, but we were both stiff, unyielding. “You know why I sleep in here?” Max asked.
“No.”
“This room is full of mysteries.”