“Yeah, and I got the good-looking ones,” I responded, crossing my eyes.
I giggled and gave him a hug, and as I rested my head on his shoulder, he told me, “I saw him.” I knew who he meant. “We ran into each other in a bar downtown.”
I waited a few seconds, trying to absorb the news. Losing him had hurt me, and I’d had to bury my feelings for him to keep them from haunting me. But the wall I’d built to protect myself was weak and full of cracks, and it was hard to keep my emotions from seeping in.
“How was he?”
“Good. I mean, he looks good. We talked a little while, but I didn’t get much out of him. He isn’t spending much time in Montreal. He’s more or less living on Lennox Island. He’s super-involved in the reservation there.”
“I love that place.”
“The thing is, though…he’s changed, or something’s changedbetween us. I think he’s avoiding me on purpose. Me! It sounds stupid to say this, but I miss him!”
That made me feel guilty. I knew how important Trey was to my brother.
“I’m sorry, Hoyt. It’s all my fault.”
“Don’t worry. We’re adults, and these things happen. He disappeared for a while when his mother died, too, but eventually he came back. He always ends up coming back.”
“Was he…was he with someone?” I asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yeah.” I was masochistic in that way.
“He was with the same girl.” He paused, contemplating me. “Why don’t you just call him and try to see him, Harper?”
“No!”
“You could fix what you had.”
“He told me if I let him go, he was never coming back. Anyway, he’s with someone else. He’s put it behind him.”
Hoyt shook his head. He wasn’t the type to give up easily.
“I’d be happy to go find him and drag him here by the balls.”
“You know how mad that would make me. And you promised you wouldn’t.”
He threw up his hands. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Then trust me and let me resolve things my way.”
There was a battle going on inside him. He was a natural protector and couldn’t sit still when the people he cared about were suffering. But he respected me too much to overstep my bounds. I knew he had given up when he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and took out the letter our mother had written me, handing it to me.
“Hayley and I talked, and we decided you should keep it. Mom wrote it for you. Here. I need to go. You’re good, right?”
“Better than good,” I said.
33
You and Other Natural Disasters
I went home not long after Hoyt left to make myself a coffee. While the water was boiling, I reread my mother’s letter. I had always regretted not remembering her better. And what I could recall, I sometimes questioned, unsure whether it was real or I had made it up as a little girl to try to feel better.
But that piece of paper was real. Better than a memory. These were her words, and her hand had written them for me.If you don’t like something, change it. If you’ve made a mistake, fix it. If you love, show it.I repeated that like a mantra, like a prayer, making the message a part of me.
I went to my bedroom, opened a drawer in my dresser, and took out my metal box. I picked up my book and held it a few seconds, feeling the old, wrinkled cover. Then I tucked the letter away between its pages.
