AMY’S PRESENCE IS THE ONLY THINGthat stops Costa from tripping again. The bond between them is like nothing I’ve seen before, an instantaneous reconnection that has left little room for Sam or me. They are in the hammock that swings offside the patio right now, lying together side by side, their legs entwined and their eyes locked.
From the pieces of conversation that I overhear, a mutual hatred for my father is certainly part of their tie. I also hear bits of their whispered words about the accident and first trip. It’s something that neither will talk about much to anyone else. I suppose there’s a degree of privacy around that trauma that is theirs alone.
I want more than anything to have a complete family, one with parents and a sister whom I love and who love me. Instead, I have what I have. Resenting them all is a drain though. I do love Amy, but we are not without our troubles even though we’re together again. I can’t forget how awful she’s been to me since our father left. Understanding the reasons doesn’t erase the past. My parents though? My relationship with both of them is too fractured, and I don’t want to see either of them again. Ever. Even if my father had answers about death tripping, I don’t want those answers from him. We can survive on our own.
You don’t leave your children—no matter what.
“Stella, can you grab my phone for me?” Costa calls from the hammock. “I want to show Amy a picture of Toby. I can’t believe I haven’t done that already.”
“Sure.” I get up from the lounge chair and go inside to retrieve his phone.
Being with Amy has brought him some degree of peace. Costa has told Amy everything about Toby, but he’s done most of it out of earshot. I assume it’s out of respect for Sam. I can’t pinpoint how exactly, but for the past two days, Costa has been more stable than I would have imagined, considering his earlier blowup. I wouldn’t say that he’shappyexactly, but he’s…thoughtful, serene. I’m jealous, I suppose. I don’t love that I feel this way, but it’s tough to watch Amy be so drawn to Costa—and, if I’m honest, him to her. It’s petty, considering the much larger issues, so I’ve been trying to brush it off.
I take it as a good sign though that he’s talking about Toby. He’s said nothing to Sam or me about his son or our unsuccessful trip since he’s come back, but something about connecting with Amy is making him comfortable. It’s also the first time since we were young that I’ve seen the caretaking, nurturing side of her come out. The way she asks him for details about Toby as a baby, how she takes Costa’s hand when he struggles to share—she’s mothering him as she used to mother me.
When I hand him his phone, Costa is recounting stories about Toby’s first words and first steps. “He called meDah-yee, which was pretty awesome.”
I see Sam smile from his chair next to me, but he doesn’t look up from his book.
“Hey, Sammy!” Costa says as he rolls out of the hammock. “Remember what Toby called you?”
Sam’s smile grows bigger. “Of course I do.Ish.”
I laugh. “For Bishop? I thought I was the only person who called you that.”
“He used to screech every time he saw Sam.Ish!Ish!” Costa holds out his hand to Amy and helps her from the hammock. “See how cute he was?”
Amy’s hair is finally less unkempt, and she has nice color in her face again. I haven’t seen her looking this good in years.
“So, let me see the pictures!” she demands teasingly, grabbing his phone.
It only takes a second for her to react. Her face freezes. Amy begins scrolling through photos until tears are rolling down her cheeks. None of us seem to know what to make of this. She is visibly shaking.
“Amy, what is it?” I walk to her.
She lowers the phone and looks at Costa. “This is Toby? This is your son?”
He nods, confused.
A mix of joy and disbelief blows over her face. “Iknowhim.”
Costa freezes. “You what?”
“I…I know him.” Her voice breaks. “I’ve been watching him for months and months, over a year.”
“Watching him? How?” I ask. “Oh my God, Amy. You mean, you’ve been watching him when you’re under?”
She nods as the enormity of this sinks in. “He was why I couldn’t leave Chicago.”
“And he was why you were tripping so much, wasn’t he?” I offer.
Amy grabs a stunned Costa by the arm. “Costa, Toby is not dead. He’s not! I haven’t seen him in a month though, and I thought he was gone. I tried to surface him, but I couldn’t. We just hit a barrier, and I couldn’t get him up with me. I’d stay under for as long as I could so that he wouldn’t be alone.” Amy’s words tumble out of her so quickly that I can hardly understand her. “I used to be able to find him so easily. He was always there, and I’d…I’d hold him and twirl him around. We’d play Patty Cake and Peek-a-Boo. I always wanted to hear his laugh because I could see him giggle so hard. He has huge dark eyes, blue, just like you do. I…I should have known it the minute I saw you. And his hair is jet-black, like yours. He’s wearing a brown outfit, a one-piece thing.”
Costa is visibly trembling. “On the feet are—”
“Are bear claws.” Amy is nodding and wiping her face. “It’s a bear outfit with a little tail on the back.”
“I have the matching hat with ears.” He looks to Sam and me. “Is this…possible? Is it?” He’s too scared to trust that this could be true.
