“Hey,” I answer back.
“You decided to give me your car after all,” he nods to the Charger. We’ve joked about it a couple of times, me leaving my car for him, the way I did for her—but I’m not coming back this time.
“Still no,” I reply. “How’s Frankie doing?” I indicate the monstrosity we created, sitting in the corner, still unpainted, still reminding me of her.
“She’s hanging in there. Not as fast as yours, but she runs okay.” He looks at his car with the kind of pride that only comes when you get something the hard way. It strikes me how much Tyler has grown up since I’ve known him. He’s almost taller than I am and more filled out than most kids his age, but it’s the self-assurance and hard-fought maturity in everything he does that makes him look older. It's easy to forget he still has one more year of high school. I don’t know where he’s going from there, but whatever life throws at him, he can take it.
“I have something else I want you to take care of for me.” I slide the velvet box out of my pocket. The lid comes open, and the ring bounces across the sidewalk. I kneel down to pick it up.
“Wow, this is all so sudden. I don’t know what to say.”
I put the ring back in the box. “I love you, dude, but not that way.” I stand up and get serious. “Put it in your dad’s gun safe. I’ll come get it when I get back.” I hesitate for a long moment. I don’t want to bring this up with him. I saw how hard things were for Tyler after Matt died, but he’s mostly a man now. “If anything happens to me, I want you to give it to Jess.”
His anger surprises me. “She changed her phone number. Moved into a new apartment. She hasn’t been home for a long time. She’sgone again, the way she was before. Jess isn't coming back to you, maybe not even to us. I don’t think you owe her anything.”
I look at the ground. He’s right, I’m a sucker or a glutton for punishment—when it comes to Jess, I’m never sure. Maybe he understands this better than I do. “I know. I don’t expect anything from her. Just keep it safe for me, okay?”
He takes the ring. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry my sister’s so messed up. I’m sorry for all the shit she’s put you through. You don’t deserve it.”
“Thanks,” I say.
His voice gets husky. “No matter what, you’ll always be my brother. Take care of yourself.”
I pull him into a tight hug. “I will. Love you, bro.”
seventy-four
Jess: Old Friends
August 2007
My feet hurt and I’m exhausted. Not the good exhausted I used to get after a long run or a productive day. The kind that comes after a bone-wearying day in the ER. The kind that won’t let you sleep, even though your body is screaming for rest.
The tiny one-bedroom basement apartment I moved into is dark and unwelcoming. It’s cold even in late summer, but it’s cheap, and no one but the old lady who lives above me knows I’m here. I got a job at a small hospital as an aide, in an out-of-the-way little town not too far from home, but far enough that I don’t think he’ll find me.
Originally, I was going to go home for the summer, so I could be closer to Jacob. Back then I had all kinds of plans for the warmer weather, lots of time with him, maybe even a wedding. Now I have very little to look forward to beyond surviving another semester of school and then graduation.
I rummage through the fridge for something to eat even though I’m not hungry. A buzz from my bedroom sends electric prickles down my spine. It’s coming from my old phone.
I have a new phone and a new number–one I’ve only given to my parents–but I haven’t gotten rid of my old phone yet. I keep trying to convince myself it’s because I might need it for evidence if Brad calls or texts me again, not because it's the last remaining tenuous connection I have to Jacob.
I let it go to voicemail, then go into the bedroom to check. I don’t recognize the caller ID. Whoever it was didn’t leave a message. I move to shove it back into my drawer. It rings again. This time the caller ID is familiar. My heart skips a beat. I know I shouldn’t answer it, but I do.
“Jess, it’s so good to hear your voice.” His voice is familiar and comforting. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for weeks.”
“Hi Michael. It’s good to hear your voice too.” And it is, maybe because I’ve been so lonely, maybe because Michael has always represented a kind of security to me.
“I’m back in the states and I’d love to see you.”
I hesitate. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I…”
“Just as friends,” he says quickly. “You can bring Jacob. I could get someone to double with.”
“Jacob and I aren’t…” I close my eyes. I’m not sure that telling him this is a good idea.
“Aren’t what?” His voice is soft and sympathetic.
I have a sudden urge to just talk. There’s so much weighing on my mind, so much I’ve kept to myself. I need someone to talk to. “We’re not together anymore. He’s deploying to Iraq, I couldn’t deal with it, so we broke up.”
