“I snuck in that night we found you in the gazebo and took him.”
“And you’ve had him this whole time?” I asked, both shocked and pleased.
He leans against the porch railing and crosses his arms. “Yes.”
I look down at Boo, turning him this way and that way, still having a hard time believing Aziah’s had him for the last twenty-four years.
“He’s a bit dirty. I would have washed him had I had the time.”
I look up. “He’s perfect just the way he is.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
He nods, his eyes going from me to Boo, then back to me.
I gesture to the porch swing behind me. “Do you want to sit with me for a while?”
He doesn’t answer, just stands and walks over to the swing and takes a seat. He holds it still as I sit beside him. I set Boo down in the center of my lap, leaning him back against my chest. We both sit in silence for a while as Aziah gently rocks us.
“Do you remember that time we caught Trouble shaving his legs?”
He chuckles, the sound rusty and unused, but it’s still marvelous. I can’t help but stare at him. Aziah’s always been handsome, but he’s downright breathtaking right now. There are small crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and I forgot all about his dimples until now. I soak in the sound and am amazed at the transformation on his face.
“Yes. He said he heard the older boys saying it would make his hair grow faster.”
I giggle. “And he ended up with like thirty cuts all over his legs. He was so embarrassed and angry when you told him it wasn’t true. He refused to leave the house for days.”
“And only came out because we dragged him.”
I rub my fingers against Boo’s ears, smiling at the memory. “I thought he was going to hurt Larry the next time he saw him. His face was so red and that pulse in his temple was going a mile a minute. Thank God you and Judge were there.”
Our shoulders and legs are several inches apart. Normally, I can’t stand to be this close to someone, but I’m finding it easier and easier to be closer to Aziah. And I even hugged my brother the other day. The last time I hugged someone besides a child was… when I was in Sweet Haven.
Aziah’s hand is resting on his thigh. I peek up at him beneath my eyelashes and find him looking down at me. Slowly, I reach for his hand. My heart skips a beat when I flip it over and see all the scars. New and old, jagged and straight. His skin is torn to shreds, so badly I can’t see the lines in his palm anymore. I trace each scar, and my hearts breaks over and over again with every one.
He clears his throat, and the swing sways once again.
“What about the time we were all out at the fort and you and JW came across the opossum?”
I groan, and he does his rusty chuckle again. Some of the pain in my chest falls away at the sound.
“That was horrible.” I grimace.
One day, we made a fort out of branches and sheets in the woods outside of town. While Aziah and Judge were finishing our makeshift house, JW and I decided to look for berries. We came across a opossum instead. One we thought was dead. I started crying, feeling sorry for the poor animal. JW said he’d bury it for me if it made me feel better. When we approached, it opened its beady little eyes and started hissing and growling. It scared the piss out of me, literally. I peed all over myself. The guys laughed so hard they were rolling around on the ground.
“That was so not funny,” I grumble.
“I beg to differ; it was very funny.”
I jab him in the ribs with my elbow. “You weren’t the one who had to walk all the way back home in wet britches.”
“And I wasn’t the one who had to carry you when you became chaffed.”
I tip my head back and laugh. None of them wanted that task, but they also didn’t want me to suffer with a rash. They played rock, paper, scissors to see who the lucky person would be.
“Judge pitched a fit every step of the way.” I giggle. “That was the highlight of that whole experience.”
It turns quiet after that, and we spend the next few minutes just rocking. I lace my fingers with Aziah’s and lay them on the swing between us. I catch him looking down at them, a frown playing on his face.
“Tell me about that man Gary’s death,” I say into the silence. I don’t know why, but I have this strong need to know.