I froze for a second, shocked to hear this revelation about Abel’s past. Ezra noticed the pause in my step and waved toward a fallen tree trunk to our right. We sat down, our thighs touching.
“I didn’t know that about Abel,” I admitted.
“He doesn’t like to talk about it, and it isn’t my place to share too many details, but I thought you should know. I’ve noticed things haven’t exactly warmed up between you two, and I just want you to know it’s more complicated than him being a regular ass.”
“I don’t think that about him,” I insisted. “I just assumed it was all because of Charlie. I know what it’s like to lose someone close to you, and how grief makes you become someone you don’t recognize. I wouldn’t judge someone who’s going through that. Not when I’ve been there myself.”
Ezra patted my knee, and the warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of my black leggings. “I am grateful for that. We all are. Even Abel, in his own strange way.”
“Have you’ve always been like this?” I asked. “Watching out for the rest of them?”
Ezra laughed, but there was something uncomfortable about it. “I guess so. I’ve always been the de facto caretaker for the people around me. I grew up with two younger sisters, and my mom was sick for most of their childhood. I had to step in and help out.”
“Did she recover?”
Ezra lifted his arm to shade his eyes as the sun journeyed out from a white cloud and washed us with its bright light.
“She died when I was eighteen from cancer. I remember the day it happened and worrying so much about my father. When she got sick, my pops started to fade. It was as if he wanted to stay as close to her as possible, and the only way to do it was to step away from us the way my mother was forced to. He wasn’t a bad dad, but he loved my mother too much. I really thought he’d off himself once she was gone, but seeing her cold body on the bed jolted something in him. Maybe he realized he didn’t want that for himself after all. At least not yet.”
The hairs on my arms rose. It was hard to reconcile the measured man sitting beside me with a boy who had to live through that.
“That sounds like an incredibly hard experience to go through.” I found his hand and laced my fingers with his. His eyes trailed down his arm until they landed on our intertwined hands, and he gave me a soft squeeze.
“It was and it wasn’t. We all struggle, don’t we? Everyone gets their own flavor of it, that’s all. My father snapped out of it just in time for me to leave the family home and start on this crazy adventure with Bleeding Moonlight. Like Abel, the timing was just right. I was in a place where I felt comfortable leaving my sisters in his care while they finished school, although I still felt guilty about it for years after. I was practically their parent at that point, and even though they were supportive, it wasn’t easy to let go.”
I let out a long breath. “I feel the same way about Molly. Like I’m part parent, part sibling, part friend. It’s confusing as hell.”
Ezra turned and smiled softly. “She’s a sharp girl. I don’t think you have to worry about fucking that up.”
Only I did. I worried about it all the goddamn time. That’s why I’d spent the past two years prioritizing her over everything else in my life.
“So who’s easier to take care of, your sisters or the guys?” I teased him, trying to lighten the conversation.
He responded with a deep laugh. “They both come with their own set of challenges. Still, with the guys, we’ve mostly been on the same page. My sisters on the other hand…Dear God. You would understand if you met them. They moved away years ago, but they visit Dad from time to time, so maybe one day you’ll get a chance to witness what I managed to live with.”
He tugged on our intertwined hands, pulling me to stand. “Let’s keep going. I want to say hello to Mom before we leave.”
It dawned on me then that when he’d said on Thursday that he wanted to visit his mother, he’d wanted to go to the cemetery. Between the two of us, we knew four people buried here, a number that felt much too high.
As we walked down the path, making our way deeper into the park, Ezra didn’t let go of my hand. I knew I should pull away, that this felt too personal, but after the conversation we’d just had, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’d shown me something I didn’t think many people got to see, and choosing self-preservation in this moment would be unconscionable.
The wrought iron gates of the cemetery peeked out between the tall cypress trees as we continued our journey. For a moment, I was afraid the cemetery would be locked, but the gates swung open with a sad creak when Ezra finally let go off my hand to pry them open.
His mom was only a minute away from the entrance, and when we got there, he kneeled to brush away the leaves and the loose ground that had collected on her grave marker.
Selena Flint
Beloved wife and mother
To have been loved by you is to have lived
1958-2008
I tried to imagine what Ezra’s mother had looked like. Did he get his blue eyes from her? Or his sandy-red hair? How much of her still lived in him?
I moved a few paces away, giving him some privacy, and looked in the direction where my parents had been laid to rest. I hadn’t visited them since a few months after their death. For a while, I’d come here every week. In the darkness of the night, after my late shifts at the bar, I’d drive here, climb the fence on the other side, and sit between their identical graves until the mosquitos became too much or the chill got into my bones.
Ezra’s form cast a shadow over me, his expression pensive. His eyes trailed my exposed arms before narrowing in on something. I glanced down and saw my tattoo was peeking out just as he reached for my wrist and lifted my arm.
