“You never know. Take your pick what you want or we can be like cool polite adults and split them both.”
Her wide hopeful eyes said that was the option she wanted. Or it could be the two fingers held up trying to persuade him.
“I’ll take the spaghetti and meatballs.”
Her smirk dropped. “Fair enough.”
“And some of the chicken parm.”
“Sweet,” she said, her finger going back and forth between them. “I knew you were vibing like me.”
He laughed and it hurt how much it surprised him. God, it felt pathetic to admit, but he couldn’t remember the last time a simple, casual conversation had left him wanting to stay in the world instead of locking himself away.
Most of his adult life had been spent chasing ghosts, talking to them and letting them haunt every corner of his existence. And now, standing in the shadow of the biggest one of all, he had her—this woman who didn’t just offer help but somehow made him feel… lighter. As if the weight he’d been dragging for years had shifted just enough for him to breathe again.
Lighter than he’d felt in his soul since long before Lake George had become a graveyard of memories.
“Are you going to get quiet on me if I say you’re a lot in personality like Rene was?”
He could see her smile was forced now, her eyes sympathetic. “I’ll try not to. I wonder if it’s just having an older brother. Mine weren’t easy on me and I learned to give it back if not tweak their egos some.”
His smile was still in place and he almost felt a whisper in his ear of Rene telling him,“That’s it, Rory. Be you to help me.”
His eyes gathered the moisture he’d fought for years to keep hidden. The last thing he wanted was any witness to him losing it.
“Sorry,” he said, turning and getting dishes.
Gale moved closer and got right in his space even though he couldn’t see her with his back facing away. He felt her presence as much as he had felt his sister’s for years.
“Hey,” she said softly, her voice threading through the air. “Rory… I don’t know how you’re still standing here holding yourself together. If it were me, I’d have shattered a dozen times by now. I’d have broken in ways I’m not sure I could have come back from. But you… you’re still here.”
He turned and she held her ground. His gaze went to the ceiling, his eyes blinking some to get rid of those traitorous tears. “Fuck. Give me a minute.”
He walked out of the kitchen and left her standing there with him embarrassed and mortified by his loss of control.
He found himself in the bathroom, ran the cold water and washed his face, then came out prepared to apologize again.
Instead, he found dinner set on the table, a beer opened for both of them and poured into glasses, and her sitting there. “Come, sit, and eat. We can talk about anything you want or nothing at all.”
He appreciated her giving him the time. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. My brother Clay, he came back from the Navy with PTSD. He won’t admit it, but we know. He was a changed man, but we gave him his space. It took some time, but he came around and let us in. He did that because none of us pushed. At least I didn’t. Not so sure about my brothers, but I don’t think so. I had to let him know he was still my brother regardless of what demons were in his brain.”
“Thanks. I’m not sure it’s demons. More like emotions I haven’t let out for years. My father, he did this. Refused to talk about what happened to Rene, and my parents’ marriage crumbled. I lost the man I always looked up to, but he pissed me off. It’s one thing to hold your emotions in, it’s another to pretend it didn’t exist.”
“That’s right. Don’t pretend. I’m not going to around you. I’m just going to be me. If it reminds you of Rene, let me know if that’s a good thing or not, but I can’t not be me either.”
“I don’t want you to pretend. Want to know why I got upset right now?”
“If you want to tell me.”
He had to be losing his mind to admit this. “I dream of Rene all the time.”
“That can be both comforting and emotional. I’m willing to bet a lot of it is guilt.”
“Definitely guilt. No doubt. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t blame myself for what happened to her. For not walking with her or searching her out when I got the text. Anything.”
“I remember enough from that time, Rory. Wasn’t it a few minutes from the text that she’d died? And wasn’t that far away.”
