Page 94 of Holding On

Chapter Twenty-Three

Travis Russo

When Maya and I finally turn around to walk back along the pine trail, I think about everyone involved in the stone brigade. It was sort of sweet to think of everyone carrying stones and doing all this work while Cory and I slept. And they did this for me. So I could finally build that cairn. My heart is left weirdly lumpy and soft.

Maya heads straight to bed. She acts like she’s fine, but a concussion in real life isn’t like it is in the movies—it can be really tough, and she’s still not feeling a hundred percent. She’s pale by the time I tuck her in. Three aspirin lie in her hand in the time it takes me to retrieve a glass of water. I kiss her and she closes her eyes, stretches, and sighs.

“I love you,” she says before I turn out the light.

“Love you more.”

When I duck into the fridge for another beer, Geo’s hovering by the sliding back door.

“Me too,” he mouths.

The clouds are low, lit from behind by the moon. It’s warm, with just threads of cool air rising from the bay. Somewhere out there, bagpipes are wailing. I love it when he plays.

“Did it come out nice?”

“You mean the cairn?”

“You built it, right?”

“Of course. How could I not? I wish I could have seen everyone trudging along with rocks.”

“Claire had them all tagged. That girl is oddly organized.”

There’s silence, and then he says, “I’ll walk down tomorrow and take a look. You know there’s something sweet and perfect about those rocks there with memories of children who died.”

“It’s sad,” I say.

“Sad,” he agrees, “but beautiful.”

I hand him a beer.

“I never got to go out with you on your twenty-first birthday. And I don’t suspect you want me around for your twenty-second.” He twists off the lid.

“Such a guy,” I say.

“My man,” he says, and we clink necks.

He takes a sip. “You know where that comes from?”

I think I know before he says it.

“That’s right. Your dad. We’d say it just like that.” He pauses and looks out at the sea. “I liked Rose. I’m glad she came.”

I sense a Geo parenting moment.

“I liked her too.”

“It took guts for her to come out here from Georgia. And it took some guts for you to agree to meet her.”

I nod. “Can’t say I didn’t feel a little trapped by circumstance.”

“But you handled yourself well. In the end, that’s all that really matters.”

We sit, comfortable in each other’s space for a long time. I suck down more beer and then decide to man up. He’s right. How we are in this world is all that matters.