always will be.”
“Is that what he said at the hospital?” I held my breath, wondering if he’d tell me about the most traumatic night of his life.
“I can still quote him, you know? I was sitting in the waiting room, covered in blood and powdered glass, while they worked on Mickey, afraid to hope, afraid to pray. My dad burst in and I thought, Thank God. It’ll be okay now. But he yanked me out of the chair and hit me so hard, I bit through my lip.”
Reflexively my hand clenched in his hair, but I relaxed my fingers to avoid hurting him. On a deep, steadying breath, I resumed stroking, meant to soothe him, though it had the same effect on me. His dark hair felt like damp satin on my palm and he smelled vaguely of the shampoo we’d used earlier. There was nothing I could say, so I leaned closer, letting him know I was there whether he wanted to keep talking or not.
A few seconds later, he went on. “He said, ‘I wish to God you’d never been born. What a worthless shit you turned out to be. This is why I’ve tried so hard to pound the asshole out of you, but you are fucking un-save-able.’ Then he shoved me up against the wall and threatened to crack my skull with a beer bottle.”
“Holy shit. Your dad’s insane.”
Max turned with haunted eyes, shifting so I had to move my hand or drop it entirely. I chose not to relinquish contact, sensing that he needed it. I left my hand on his jaw, the uneven scruff teasing my palm. Though I might be wrong, I didn’t think he’d ever told this story before. He wore a shell-shocked expression, as if the memories were more powerful than he’d expected.
“The worst part is, I didn’t even leave then. I should have. But I went all sad puppy. ‘How can you...? You’re my dad, you’re supposed to love me.’” His mouth tightened, revealing how he felt about the pathetic nature of the question.
“What did he say?” It couldn’t be good.
“‘It’s not hard to work out, you dumb shit. If I don’t love you, it’s because you’re unlovable. Now get out of here. If I see you again, I will fucking end you.’”
“You took off that night.” Now that I had the whole story, I understood why.
The family could only cope with one emergency at a time. While everyone sat by Michael’s hospital bed, Max got farther away. And the longer the silence lasted, the more convinced he became that everyone hated him. Until Carol sent a wedding announcement email. Did I think somebody should’ve been on Max’s side, searching tirelessly to find him? Absolutely. But sometimes the world was a cold, horrible place, and people slipped through the cracks. That didn’t make it right.
“Yeah. You’re really quiet. It’s kind of freaking me out, I don’t want this to change us. I’ve never laid it out completely before, and—”
“I know, you say you don’t get along with your family and leave it at that. Thanks for trusting me. And no, it doesn’t make a difference. You’re my best friend...and I’m always on your side, Max. You can count on me for anything, you know that, right?”
His dark eyes shone, brightening with tears. They didn’t fall; he backed away from that emotional precipice, though his smile remained soft and sweet. “I do, actually. That’s why I asked you to come.”
“That means a lot to me.” I hugged him then, wrapping my arms around his waist.
He settled me against his chest, resting his chin on my hair. It was beyond me how anyone could call him unlovable. He radiated warmth. Yeah, the packaging was a little rough, and he didn’t speak with an upscale accent, but Max hid only goodness at the heart of him. Some guys talked shit about their hookups, but I’d never heard Max comparing notes or denigrating a girl for sleeping with him.
“You got the room for three nights, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I was wondering if you’d mind hanging out with Michael tomorrow. We’ll take off the day after.”
“Not at all. I was hoping you’d get some family time.”
“I didn’t think it was likely,” he admitted. “But Michael isn’t mad. Well, he is, but not about the accident. He just didn’t get why I vanished.”
“Did you tell him everything?”
He shook his head. “Kid has enough on his plate without hating Pop as much as I do.”
“So what’re you guys doing tomorrow?” I figured I’d walk downtown and check out the shopping in Providence, maybe see a movie.
“You aren’t coming?” He actually sounded disappointed.
“It seems like I’d be in the way. I mean, I’m not family.”
Max sat back and planted his hands on my shoulders. The suddenness of the motion jolted the swing, so the chains creaked. I tumbled backward, feet coming off the ground. I didn’t fight when he shifted, pulling me against his side. In slow, steady movements, he pushed off with his feet. Green shadows played across my bare legs, highlighting the pallor.
“You are,” he said.
“What?”
“Family. Maybe that sounds strange. I’m not looking forward to graduation. I mean, shit, we’re already splitting up. Nadia’s living downstairs, and Kia might be moving in. It’ll suck when I can’t see you guys every day.”
Mostly I didn’t think about the future. I had acquaintances in the business program who had five-year and ten-year life plans. But for me, the idea of what came after college—it was all a big blur. I couldn’t picture myself doing anything in particular. For a long time, I had been going through the motions, pretending I had goals, when I just missed Eli and didn’t take medication that would make it stop.
You have to let me go, Eli said. You can’t be happy unless you do.
But if I let you go, you’re gone.
I’ve been gone for years, baby.
“Where do you go when you do that?” Max asked unexpectedly.
“Huh?”
“Sometimes in the middle of a conversation, you check out. Not here, not listening, not with me anymore.”
This confession would make him think I was crazy. “Talking to my dead boyfriend.”
Max’s eyes widened and he glanced around his uncle’s backyard as if he expected some Medium scenario to play out. Ruefully I smiled and shook my head, tapping my temple. “In here. We knew each other so well—and for so long—that I hear his commentary on stuff and sometimes I answer. It’s weird, I know. I didn’t realize anyone could tell, though.”
“Trust me, I know when you’re paying attention to me. And that’s not the strangest habit I’ve encountered. When I was in Scranton, I met a guy who had a bird living in his pocket.”
I shuddered. “That sounds horrible for everyone involved.”
“I
