“You can’t forget me,” I plead, and I think of my sister. “You can be mad, but please don’t forget me. Because I can never forget you. I’ll never be able to. I don’t ever want to. I want to be inevitable for as long as I live, and I only want it to be with you. Please don’t forget me. Please. I promise I won’t run. I ran like she did, but I promise I won’t ever do it again. We’re not the same. We’re not. I’m sorry. Please just say you’ll never forget me.”
“As if I ever could,” he says, a catch in his voice. “I’ve told you, Ty. You and me?” He holds me tight. “It might take time. It might be hard. But I will stand by you and I will help you breathe, and if there are days when there are earthquakes, I promise you I’ll protect you from anything that falls. We’ve had a long road. But it doesn’t matter. Friends until we’re old and gray. Beginning to end. Day after day. Because we’re inevitable.”
We stay there in the bathtub. As my world shakes and rattles. As I catch my breath. He must be uncomfortable, given how big he is. The hotel bathtub isn’t that big. But I’m just a little guy and he has me gathered in his arms. Eventually, everything stops moving.
Eventually, I breathe in and out.
Eventually, I feel safe.
My heart hurts. It might always. It was broken, after all. But it’s held together now.
Eventually, he whispers promises of love and loyalty in my ear.
I’ll say it back. One day. I think he knows.
Eventually, I ask him to take me home.
“Bear?” he asks. “Otter?”
I shake my head and kiss him gently on the lips. “You.”
He knows what I mean.
Eventually, we leave it all behind.
I SLEEP on the ride back to Seafare.
Almost the whole way.
And I dream of my mother.
She laughs, and I laugh along with her.
We laugh because the kite is so high it might never come down.
She looks at me and I look back at her, and even though what I had once hoped will never be, this is still a dream in my secret heart. And in my secret heart, the kite flies high, and the sun shines down, and she looks over and tells me she loves me.
And I say good-bye.
IT’S DIFFERENT. Seafare. Maybe it’s just me. Things just look different.
The sun is rising as we drive into town. The tide is going out. It looks more like the home I left behind than when I first came back weeks ago. It’s just different because it’s again the same.
“Can you stop?” I ask him when we come near a familiar section of beach. “Just for a minute. There’s something I have to do.”
He nods, but doesn’t question it. Dom’s good like that.
He stops the SUV in the pullout. “You want me to go with you?” he asks. He stretches in his seat, and his shirt bunches up, and I have to tear my eyes away from the skin revealed. He catches me and chuckles. It’s almost time, but not quite yet.
“No,” I say. “Is that okay?”
He reaches over and pulls me toward him. He kisses me sweetly and I think of stars.
“I’ll be here,” he says as he leans back. “Just don’t take too long.” There’s a heat to his words I can’t ignore. For the first time in a very long time, I feel truly and completely awake.
There’s no wind as I open the door. I close it behind me and look down at the water. The air is cool as I take off my shoes. I wiggle my toes in the sand. The sea grass whispers secret things to me as I walk through it down the hill to the beach.
There’s the cross Anna made for her. I pass it. It’s not what I need right now.