by Mere Joyce
“Now I really have to meet him.” Hailey laughs.
Nolan dives between the two, hurrying from the scene, probably to text his complaints to the subject of the conversation he’s just ducked out of.
Thomas watches him leave, his smile softening.
“Can you two do me a favor?” he asks, once Nolan’s a safe distance away.
“Sure, whatever you need,” Hailey says.
“Keep an eye on him, okay?” Thomas murmurs, quiet enough his brother can’t hear. “He’s a big boy, and he can take care of himself. But still … keep an eye on him while I’m gone.”
“You’re really heading off this week?” Hailey asks.
She’s been leaning into my side for the last half of this exchange, but now she pushes off of me and moves in to hug Thomas. He kisses the top of her head, and for a moment she keeps her face against his chest.
“Yeah.” Thomas nods. “I’m going to drop Nolan off at home, and tomorrow I’ll go over to Forrester’s. We’ll spend a few days cleaning up the apartment. Then we’ll leave.”
“Where are you going first?” I ask.
“To visit Julie’s grave,” Forrester answers, stepping over to us. “Even if she’s not there, it seems like a good place to start the route Dad mapped out. And after we’ve finished that, we’ll go west.”
I don’t know if I agree with Forrester skipping his final year of school to take this trip with Thomas. Going back after being away will be difficult, and he’ll ruin his chances of getting anywhere decent in life if he doesn’t have a high school diploma. But I see how much he needs this break. He’s not shirking his responsibilities. He’s clearing his head and reconnecting with family, too.
“We’ll take care of Nolan,” Hailey says, pulling away from Thomas to hug Forrester instead. “And you two make sure you stay in touch. I want emails, or texts. If you can’t manage that, then send me a fucking postcard.”
A billow of smoke sweeps across my face as I watch Hailey say goodbye to Forrester. My hair’s going to smell like campfire when I’m home. Even once I’ve washed it, the smoky scent will stay.
Hailey says her goodbyes to Allison and Eli, extending the invitation for lunch to each of them. Allison says she has to work, but Eli — to my immense surprise — puts a note in his phone about it. I don’t know if his heart is in the acceptance, but I appreciate the effort he’s making to remember the date. Maybe things are not hopeless. Maybe even the twins will stay in touch after we’ve left today.
“I guess that’s it,” Hailey says as she steps back, her voice resigned.
She calls Star to her again as she fishes her keys out of her pocket. The rumble of a distant engine distracts me as Hailey gets into her car. Just as she turns the ignition, Dad’s silver SUV pulls up alongside the twins’ sporty ride.
“That’s it for me, too,” I say, turning from the car to collect my bags and start making my own round of goodbye hugs.
“Who’s the cute driver?” Hailey asks, her head hanging out the open window.
I crinkle my nose and let out a snort of dismayed laughter.
“Um, my dad?” I tell her, glancing over my shoulder to see her quirking a brow at me.
“Unless we’re living in a parallel universe, that’s not your dad,” she says before sticking her head back into the car and rolling the window up against the cold.
“What are you …”
I trail off, looking at the car to see someone much younger stepping out from the driver’s seat. For far too many seconds, I’m confused, wondering if I’ve mistaken the car for a stranger’s. But then the image of the young man before me clicks, and I break into a grin — and a run.
“Hudson?”
He stands by the door, looking shy and awkward, bright and beautiful.
“Hi,” he says, his meek wave adorable.
I don’t worry about our fight or his motivation for being here. I only run to him, sliding into his arms and breathing in the smell of his cologne. He hugs me back the way he hugged me the day he left, like he never wants to let me go. I press into him as much as I can, kissing his neck as he mumbles into my ear.
“I was stupid to get mad,” he says, his lips warm against the skin of my earlobe — his body warm against the chill of the day. “I got home, and all I wanted was to see you. My parents kept going on about how nice it was to have the family together for Thanksgiving. But you’re the family I want to spend my holiday with. Even if it’s only for the drive home. Your dad said I could borrow his car. So I did.”
We have plenty to talk about on the ride back to Aurora, and I have a lot to say in response to what he’s just told me. Questions, answers. All of it will come, and soon. Because if nothing else, I’ve learned two things from this weekend. Holding on to the past is not possible, and even if it were possible, it would stunt our growth and inhibit our ability to live. But people who say that the past needs to be forgotten have it wrong, too. The past is, in its own way, a part of our present and our future. And just because we are different than we were a decade ago — or even a month ago — it doesn’t mean we have to give up all things familiar, simply because they are old.
But for the moment, history — his, mine, and ours — can wait. For now, I only kiss him before turning back to my cousins to say my final goodbye.
No, not final. My temporary goodbye. My until-we-meet-again salute.
I get in my dad’s car and take my boyfriend’s hand as Hailey pulls out beside us. We wait until she completes a wide U-turn and speeds off down the road, and then we do the same.
Allison
Sunday, October 9th, 2016
41°F, overcast, 10 MPH winds — NW
Last night’s storm was spectacular, both outside and in the cottage. I never imagined everyone else’s lives could be as fractured as ours. Perhaps it’s sadistic, but knowing we’re not so far removed from the others is wonderful.
Going home now. Eli left right after Hailey and Kayla. He was anxious, like he couldn’t wait to get away from this place. I worry about him. He’s so wound up all the time. He never relaxes, never just lets things be.
Of course, he’s been worse since he realized Dad was having an affair — worse still since he discovered I already knew about it. I thought about telling him. I thought about telling Mom, too. But what good would it do anyone? The world’s an imperfect place. We got a big dose of that truth this weekend. I want to ask Dad about Julie, find out what side he was on. I want to know if he thought of her as a sister or as proof of the turmoil his family went through.
I hope he’s smart enough not to get one of his flings pregnant. He has a main girl — I don’t know her name, I’ve never bothered to ask — but not even Eli knows there are others, too. I just hope our father’s sensible enough to keep all involved parties safe.
After we merged onto the highway, Dad told me he put an offer in on the cottage. He’s always loved the place, but I didn’t realize he’d be serious about snatching it up. I don’t tell him Forrester is going to accept the offer this afternoon. He’ll get the news soon enough.
If I know Dad, he’s thinking a place like this would make a great hideaway for weekend trips with his girlfriends. I’d love to believe he wanted it out of fondness for the history he used to work so hard at preserving. But he’s not the same person he used to be, and family has lost most of its meaningfulness to him. It’s a shame, but who knows? Maybe one of us will pick up the role, help keep the legacy of our family alive.
And, hey, if he buys the cottage for his affair-house, at least it would mean something good came out of his bad behavior, right?
Nolan
“EVERYTHING LOADED UP?” THOMAS asks as Forrester and I finish securing the tarp over the trailer.
The fire has been extinguished, the cottage is locked, and the day is so cold even the bay isn’t tempting anymore. Runner d
ozes on the grass, and everyone else is gone. I’m antsy to head off as well. Thomas won’t leave until Forrester’s ready to go, though. Although honestly, I think he’s been ready longer than the rest of us.
“We’re done,” Forrester says.
He nods, surveying the property around him. He seems unaffected, like he’s only packing up for the day, not for good. But if I look hard enough, like if I damn near squint, I can see the pain. Forrester is hurting, and he will be for a long time. He’s just not the type to get emotional, and I respect his quiet solemnity.
“That mean we’re ready to leave?” I ask, trying to be patient but unable to hide the note of hope in my voice.
Thomas’s smile is amused, though his eyes are disappointed. He wishes I cared more about this place. I know it’s special for him, and I’m sad we don’t share in the nostalgia. But I was too young, I guess. The difference between sixteen and nineteen doesn’t feel all that great. But the difference between six and nine? Outstanding. My memories are far fewer, and my attachment is less.
Not that this property isn’t awesome — I could easily fantasize about a beautiful summer sleepover here with Brandon — but since we’re leaving for good, I don’t see any point in trying to love the cottage now.
Forrester smirks at me, and then turns to my brother with a more meaningful smile.
“Tomorrow?” he asks, the question full of quiet, almost grim, excitement.
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Thomas nods. “I’ll come over early. I’ll even bring breakfast. We’ll clean up the apartment and get everything ready to go.”
“Good,” Forrester says. He calls to Runner, who I suppose will be the third companion on their adventure, before he walks toward his Jeep. “Thanks for all of this,” he says, his back to us. “I should have thanked everyone. I … I don’t think I could have done all of this by myself.”
“You don’t have to thank us,” Thomas says. “We understand.”
Forrester lets out a soft breath of laughter as he faces us again.
“I know Julie’s gone,” he says. His expression is unclear, like he’s not quite sure what he’s even saying. “But we still gained a new family member this weekend. And, I mean, I get why it tore them apart. Even the ones on the same side of the fight … I get it. But I still can’t believe family is what broke the family up. After all this time. My dad missed his brothers. He missed all of you. We both did.”
“We did, too,” I say, which is not a declaration I expected to come out of my mouth, but one that feels right as I utter it.
“We’re cousins, not brothers,” Forrester continues, careful as he works through his thoughts, trying to pick the right words to say. “And cousins are different. But what happened to our dads. Let’s … let’s not allow it to happen to us.”
I don’t have a response for that because I don’t know any of my cousins well enough to agree.
“Let’s not,” Thomas says in my place, his assurance of our familial bond much stronger than mine.
Forrester nods and gives us a short wave. Then he opens the door for Runner to jump into the Jeep before he climbs in himself.
I’m excited to get home. But as we climb into our own car, I’m surprised to feel a touch of sadness knowing we’re about to go. Maybe it’s less about the cottage and more about my brother and his plans to leave home. He’s old enough to move beyond our neighborhood, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss him and worry about him and wish he was around to be the stupidest — and wisest — person I know.
I won’t argue with him on our way home. I planned to, until the canoe trip this morning. I expected to yell at him for abandoning Bea, even if the baby might not be his, even if she wants to have it with someone other than him.
But if Thomas’s motives for leaving were aimless and self-centered at first, all that changed when he invited Forrester along.
Two years ago, my brother went missing for a week. I thought he was dead. I hoped he was only injured, even dreamed he’d suffered a head wound that would be scary but not as scary as having him gone for good. When he came home, unapologetic for his absence, I thought I’d never speak to him again for my fury. But then he told me the reason he went away — that one of his friends had given up on life, and so Thomas and a couple of others took the guy to the woods, shut themselves off from the outside world, and relaxed into nature until he was stable enough to come home and get help to keep himself going.
Forrester is not the same as that other guy. But he still needs help. He needs a friend and an escape from life for a while. Thomas will be his guide. And I think Forrester might help my brother figure out how to handle his own life, too.
I get in the car and don’t even complain when Thomas rolls down the window, letting in the cold. For now, at least, I’m too busy getting out my phone to even notice as my brother starts the engine and puts the car in reverse.
Me: You’ll never guess what.
B: You’ve won a million dollars?
Me: We’re on our way home.
B: Even better.
Thomas
I REMEMBER THE LAST time Nolan and I were here.
My brother inside, my cousin looking for our toys, and me floating in the water, listening to a conversation I’m not supposed to hear.
It makes no sense, and once Forrester is in the water, it drifts from my mind like a leaf blowing from branch to branch in a soft summer breeze.
A girl, a trip, a map. Two brothers regretting their past and making promises about their future.
I remember the last time Nolan and I were here.
But that time is no longer the last. This is the new final memory, and ten years from now, what will I retain from it?
Maybe Bea or Thanksgiving, maybe sitting in the dark living room talking to my cousins as storms raged outdoors and inside of us all.
Or maybe, my memory will be a simpler set of discoveries.
Like a girl, a trip, a map.
And two cousins, making more than promises about their future — making a pact that certain regrets will never reappear.
Forrester
TODAY IS NOT A good day.
Dad’s dead. Cottage is gone.
This place has always been ours, but ours doesn’t exist anymore, and now it’s no longer even mine.
Today is not a good day.
This morning I discovered another relative gone. A death tore our family apart. But now a death has changed the path again. My dad has died. Only time will tell whether it’ll have any effect on his brothers. But at least it’s done something for their children. We weren’t given a choice the first time. Family isn’t so easy to break as my father and my uncles seemed to think.
I have my cousins again, and I won’t lose them. I won’t lose them. We might drift, sway, or float side by side. But I won’t lose my family.
I sit in the Jeep for several minutes before I can bring myself to turn it on. Runner’s already curled on the passenger seat, ready to snooze his way back to town. Me and Mom and Dad always made these drives together. Then it was just me and Dad. Now, this last time, it’s just me.
Today is not a good day.
I flip the ignition and back the Jeep with its trailer of junk until I can turn the car around and head down the drive. Back to the roads. Back to the towns. Back to life without my father or my home.
I take a long look at the cottage as I drive past. Enough sun reflects off the windows to keep me from gazing inside one last time. I sigh, patting Runner’s head as the cottage disappears from view. He doesn’t care we’re leaving. He might behave differently if he knew we’re never coming back.
Today is not a good day.
Tonight, I’ll be alone again. I won’t sleep. Staying up is easier — lets me get a head start cleaning the apartment and packing my bags. Thomas will come in the morning, and when we’re rea
dy, he and I and Runner will take Julie’s ashes and my dad’s canoe. We’ll load it all up, and then we’ll just drive away.
Just drive away.
Just drive.
Away.
Today is not a good day.
But tomorrow … tomorrow might be better.
MERE JOYCE has a Masters of Library and Information Science from the University of Western Ontario. She currently works as a librarian, and when she’s not recommending great books to people, she’s writing them. Her work includes Shadow, Getting the Brush Off, and Blank Canvas. Joyce lives in Kitchener, Ontario.
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