I pull out my wallet, and with my ice cream in one hand and my wallet in the other, I remove the picture and show it to her. She takes it and stares at the picture for a few seconds before she says, “Wow, you really do look like him. Just missing the lip ring.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, my dad would have hated that.”
“Really?” she asks, handing me the picture back so I can stick it in my wallet again.
“Yeah. He didn’t like piercings or tattoos or anything that could alter your appearance.”
“So why did you get a tattoo and piercings?”
“I think it was a way of dealing with my pain. If I marked myself up somewhere else, maybe I wouldn’t hurt as much inside.”
“Did it help?” she asks.
“No. Shocking revelation, you actually have to talk about your pain in order to heal. Can’t keep it all bottled inside.”
“So I’m assuming you went to therapy, then?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “After piercing my dick, I thought, maybe this self-mutilation thing isn’t working. So I went to therapy, and that’s where I learned to forgive my mom—for the most part—there’s still some animosity that I’m working through. I learned to grieve my father’s death, and I learned some coping techniques for how to help Mika. He actually sees my therapist as well.”
“Were you the one who got him to go into therapy?”
“I did,” I say, thinking back to that horrible day when he told me he wasn’t doing well. It was one of the worst days of my life.
‘Wil, I don’t think I can do life anymore. I’m sorry. My heart is just too broken, and I’ve just got no fucks to give…’
And when he started asking for my forgiveness for not being able to stay around, I knew I had to get to him.
It was the most terrifying twenty-four hours of my life, traveling without knowing if he’d still be there when I made it to his home.
“I stayed with him for a while, living in the same apartment. I think you were in Ohio at that point.”
“Yeah, I remember when he told me that you were staying with him. I didn’t know you, but I was grateful. He needed someone watching over him.”
“I babysat him for a while, didn’t let him go anywhere without me. It wasn’t until I started to see a shift in his demeanor that I started to believe that he was going to be okay. I wasn’t going to lose my father and my brother. Thankfully, I had the ability to be by his side at all times.”
“I can’t imagine what that must have been like. I’m glad you were there for him.”
“That’s how Dad raised us. He said no matter what happens in life, we’re supposed to have each other. Because there would be a day when he and Mom were no longer around, and we had to take care of each other. Well, that time came sooner than we expected. I would never let anything happen to Mika at this point. He’s my number one in this world.”
“You’re such a good man, Wilder.”
“I try to be,” I answer. “I really try.”
“Pedal,” I say to Scottie.
“I am. I think there’s something wrong with this bike.”
“No, babe, I think there’s something wrong with you.” I stop the bike and set my legs on the ground, straddling the bike.I look over my shoulder, where Scottie is looking all kinds of disgruntled.
“It is not me. It’s the bike.”
Chuckling, I step off the bike. “Look, there’s a path that leads to the lake. Let’s take a break for a moment, gather ourselves, and then we can get back on.”
“Or we can walk it back, because that is the devil’s form of transportation, and I’d rather not take part in his form of torture again.”
“Whatever you want.”
We move the bike off the road and up against a tree before unsnapping our helmets. We hang them on the bike handles, and then I take her hand and help her down the narrow, rocky trail to a clearing that overlooks the lake.
