Her eyes go soft and she dabs under one. Then she adds, “And we never know who or when that will be.
“If you keep dating Hallie and your relationship leads to more, Mia and Hallie will come to love you. There’s no doubt about that. From the way she was looking at you, I’m guessing they already do.”
I nod.
“And you’d be taking the risk that they might lose you—a loss that would stay with them for the rest of their lives.”
She pauses, looking me in the eyes with an intensity that reminds me of a few of my commanding officers.
What passes between us is something neither of us have words for. But we both understand it because we've lived it—together.
We both lost Zach.
And that loss has never left us.
The hole he left is here—in this room right now.
I tear up and I let my tears fall this time.
“I cried with Hallie,” I tell Mrs. Kinkaid. “Around Zach’s birthday. And she held me. I don’t know how she did it, but she took the guilt away.”
Mrs. Kinkaid shakes her head. “She’s one of a kind, Greyson. I can already tell that.”
“She is,” I agree. “I’ve never wanted anyone else. I never will want anyone else.”
She looks at me like I’m the dullest crayon in the box.
“You think I’m making a mistake.”
She doesn’t answer me. She just smiles softly.
“He'd be shoving me out the door right now, crutches and all,” I say to her. “He’d haul me up into his pickup and drive me to Hallie's. Then he'd hop out and drag me up to the door,broken leg or not. He’d knock hard and say, ‘I must apologize for my friend. He means well. But he can be an idiot. Please, be patient with him while he gets his act together. He really loves you.’”
Mrs. Kinkaid laughs, swiping at a tear. “Yeah. That about sums it up. He never did beat around the bush, did he?”
“I miss him so much,” I tell her. “Every day.”
“I do too. But I'm sure glad we had him while we did.”
I press into the hollow ache in my chest and nod. “Me too.”
She lets me sit with that thought for as long as it takes.
The realization seeps down like sand through cracks, grain by grain until it hits me. “It’s better that we had him for a while.”
“It’s far better,” she says, nodding with a smile. “I’d take any one of those seconds again.”
I nod. “Even if it meant losing him.”
“Even if.”
She stands and heads toward the door, opening it and holding her keys in the air with a soft jingle.
“Need a lift?” She pauses and adds, “I’m assuming, since no one’s here with their pickup, you might settle for a mid-sized sedan.”
“I do need a lift. Can you grab my crutches for me?”
She grabs them from the spot where they’re resting against the living room wall. I stand, carefully, adjusting my stance and slowly make my way to the door and down the steps.
