Page 138 of We Are Just Us

Rory pressed a kiss to Kieran’s back. “Thanks.”

They stayed there until the alarm went off at six, seventeen minutes of existing together.

“Time to get up,” Rory said, though he didn’t move.

“Yep.”

Neither of them moved.

Then Mabel started whining at the door, and the spell was broken.

“Okay, okay,” Kieran muttered, rolling out of bed.

He stumbled to the back door in his boxers and let the dogs out. The morning air was brisk, fog still clinging to the coast. He watched Hank and Mabel investigate the yard, breathing in the salt air.

Today was the day. The North County Labor Day Surf Competition.

He called the dogs back in, fed them, made sure they had fresh water.

Behind him, he heard the shower turn on. Rory was up.

Good. That gave Kieran time.

He headed to the kitchen.

Coffee first. Then food.

He started the coffee maker, listening to it gurgle and hiss. While it brewed, he pulled out bread, turkey, cheese, lettuce. Made sandwiches for the beach. Wrapped them in foil. Grabbed a couple apples, some granola bars, bottled water.

He was pouring coffee into two travel mugs when he heard the shower turn off. Kieran paused. Set down the coffee pot.

There was one thing he needed to do. Something he’d been thinking about doing.

He walked to the bedroom, found his shorts on the floor, and slipped his hand into the pocket until his fingers found it.

The St. Christopher necklace. His mom’s necklace.

Silver. Tarnished despite his best efforts to keep it clean. The pendant was small, maybe the size of a nickel, with the image of St. Christopher carrying the Christ child across the river. On the back, worn almost smooth, were his mom’s initials, D.M.D.

She’d worn it every day for as long as Kieran could remember. Said her grandmom had given it to her.

Said it was for protection, for safe travels, for watching over the ones you loved.

It was on her nightstand the morning he found her. He picked it up and put it in his pocket.

And now, standing here in Rory’s bedroom, holding it in his palm, he knew.

This was the right thing to do.

Today, of all days. A day when Rory would be out on the water, pushing himself, competing, being brave.

His mom would’ve liked that. Would’ve wanted him to have this.

Kieran closed his fist around the necklace and walked to the bathroom.

The door was open. Steam was still pouring out. Rory was standing at the sink in a towel, wiping fog off the mirror, hair dripping wet.

He caught Kieran’s reflection in the mirror and turned.