I hesitate for a few more moments while he stays silent, giving me the time and space I need to come forward with whatever it is that’s on my mind.
“Rebecca.” I finally say, but that’s all I say. I don’t know how to have this conversation. Every time I practiced in my head before, I always had an excuse for why it’d be better to just wing it.The conversation will be more authentic that way. I can’t plan things like this.The list goes on and on.
Seeing my exasperation, Andrew steps in. “What about Rebecca?”
I sigh deeply before going on, as if getting more oxygen in my lungs is going to make this easier. “It’s almost one year since—” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence. I know just an hour before I was telling Andrew about how much he has helped me move forward from Rebecca’s death, but the one-year anniversary of her accident is almost the equivalent of picking at a scab. Maybe the wound was healing nicely, but I just know this little scratch is going to make me bleed again. Ican only imagine Andrew must feel the same way. Rebecca was his sister. Histwin.They spent their whole lives together.
Andrew nods, knowingly. “Yeah, Tuesday. I’ve been trying not to think about it,” he says somberly.
“I’m sorry, Andrew! It’s just that?—”
He cuts me off before I can continue. “Don’t be sorry. It’s good you brought this up. We should be talking about it.” Meeting my somber gaze, he adds, “I think we should do something together to celebrate Rebecca on that day. I don’t want to feel sad anymore.”
“You’re right. That’s kind of been our motto this whole summer, huh? It’s not what Rebecca would’ve wanted?”
“Yeah. I think it’s okay to say that it’s not what we want either.”
“How are you able to be so rational, Andrew? This is your sister. Your writing is filled with so much emotion and creativity. How can you have this side to you too?”
“I’m a man of many sides.” He smirks, then turns serious again, “Honestly, I guess I had to be the rational one with how crazy Rebecca could be. We needed someone to balance us out or we would’ve gotten into a lot more trouble than we did growing up.”
I smile, nodding my head in agreement. “Did you have anything in mind to celebrate her?”
“Maybe we don’t do anything crazy this time. We could just go up to the viewpoint and watch the sunrise while we binge-eat your grandpa’s cookie dough.”
I bury my face in my hands as I laugh. “She would’ve loved that. Why did she always have to be such a daredevil when the simple things would’ve made her just as happy?”
Andrew shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s Rebecca. She liked having an edge.”
“I guess so.”
Silence falls over us for a few moments whilewe both take in the last couple of hours. We’ve talked about a lot of important matters, but it feels good to finally communicate with one another without any anger or anxiety. If we could’ve just done that sooner, maybe we’d be celebrating years of a happy relationship. Or we could’ve at least been there for each other when we first started grieving Rebecca late last summer. Maybe we wouldn’t have had a big fight to drive us apart for several days, but all of it has led us to this spot now, and I’m happy right now.
“I have a few more things planned for the evening, if you’re up for it.” I break the silence, ready to bring the evening to a more joyful note again.
He perks up. “You mean there’s more?”
I stand up from my spot on the porch swing and grab our empty boxes of food while I start heading toward my car. “Of course there’s more!”
I unlock my car and dig around in the back seat, pulling out a Tupperware full of freshly baked cookies, a container of vanilla ice cream, spoons, and a folder.
As I approach Andrew again with my arms full, I can practically see him salivating.
“What do you have there?”
“Oh, just my dessert. Did you bring anything for yourself?” I smirk.
His smile turns devilish as he lunges toward me. I sidestep him, squealing with glee, but he grabs me around the waist, snagging the ice cream from my grip and setting it aside as he pulls me in tight. His attack of kisses go from quick and playful to slow and passionate within seconds.
“Maybe we don’t need dessert,” he teases.
“Maybeyoudon’t, but I’ve been looking forward to this.”
He helps me scoop some vanilla ice cream between two cookies to make an ice cream sandwich. Andrew has always said he wanted to try making one with my grandpa’s cookies, but we never did.
With his mouth full of his first bite, he bellows, “Holy shit! This is incredible! I’ll never be able to eat cookies or ice cream by themselves ever again.”
I just shake my head at him with a smile on my face. “What about the cookie dough on Tuesday?”
