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Bren shook his head.

“Can’t. I tried.”

The foot-based sandcastle grew heavier as Bren avoided his eyes, packing the sand down so the pyramid rounded into a dome.

“Are you worried it’s, like, bad or something?”

Bren shrugged and poured more sand on top as the silence stretched between the grains.

“Bren.”

“It’s just . . .” He leaned back and stared at the sky. The oranges had turned yellow since they’d sat down. “She didn’t know about this part of me.”

His pause stretched on, and when he’d waited so long he figured Bren wasn’t going to say any more, A.J. pressed his hand against the back of Bren’s.

“And . . .?”

Bren’s sigh wasn’t finished when it turned into an exasperated scoff.

“And I guess it feels like I lied to her. So, whatever she says is like”—he furrowed his brow in a way that resonated with the deepest part of A.J.’s soul—“like I tricked her into saying it, or something.”

A.J.’s face reflected Bren’s and his mind spiraled into a thousand things to say—of course his grandma would love him no matter what; it was impossible to lie about something you hadn’t realized yourself—but what would any of that mean when it came from someone who had only been in his life for two years?

“You really want me to read it?”

The silence returned and, finally, Bren nodded.

A.J. worked his thumb into the gap at the edge of the seal and eased it open without tearing it. When he shook the letter out from inside, Bren jerked up like the sand had been electrified, and he took a few steps towards the waterline.

The paper was pale yellow, lined with thin green vines and the tiny dots of chubby birds. He looked at Bren’s too-straight shoulders and took a breath.

Bren,

Hello from beyond the grave.

A.J. paused to look up at Bren whose laughter had been shaky, but he hadn’t turned back around.

Or I guess hello from two blocks away. I’m not quite in the grave yet, even if this damn tumor seems pretty set on getting me there in a hurry. Well, I guess the point is that by the time you read this, I will be gone. Be honest, how was the funeral? I guess it was at least a B+ if your mam used some of the money I left her to spring for a platter of decent sandwiches.

A.J. laughed this time. He hadn’t been sure if Bren was taking the piss when he’d told him about his grandma’s rating system. Pretty dumb considering this was the woman who’d helped raise him.

Congratulations on finishing secondary school. You’ve got me beat there now. I’m hoping you passed first time and you weren’t held back into your twenties! You’re a smart boy, but we both know you could do a lot better if you just focus that mind on one thing at a time.

A.J. shuffled the page to the back of the stack as Bren gave another micro-laugh.

I hate that I’m leaving you and your mam so early. That girl lost her father sooner than anyone should, and I like to think she’s tougher for it, but I’d hoped to keep an eye on the two of you for a little longer.

I guess I’ll be able to keep a better watch of you now, from up there. Maybe I’ll be able to figure out how to get the two of you to hear me from my comfy cushion in the clouds.

Now don’t you go bringing a Ouija board into your mam’s house, Bren, you hear me?

There were some smudges on the paper that looked like Bren’s nan had restarted the next sentence more than a couple of times.

Even though I won’t be there in person to see it, I want you to know I’m proud of the man you are, no matter what. As long as you listen to your mam, you’ll turn out fine, son. With your good heart in her hands, it’ll be hard to go wrong. Unless you let that Walsh boy steer things for you too often.

A.J. felt a little bad for Mickie as he turned to the last page.

I don’t know what you plan to do now that you’re getting ready to leave your mam’s house, but I want to make sure that whatever it is, it’s a little grander than it might have been without me. I started putting some money away the day I found out you were on your way, and unless I took it out and spent it on bingo before I go, it should still be there.