by Kim Turrisi
And just like the day we took junior pictures for the yearbook, my hair isn’t cooperating.
At all. God, all of this.
There’s Cass with every single hair looking perfect even spiky while mine is, well, all over the place. Of course. She’s Emily twin and I’m the messy sidekick.
“You look great,” Cass tries. She can see me stressing. How long will this picture hang on the wall when we’re gone anyway? However, there’s some consolation. The two things that are perfect are my shirt and my necklace, both from Jen. That mellows me out a little bit.
“You know, Cass, when we got here, I couldn’t comprehend all the smiles and optimism radiating from the pictures in the rec hall. Now, I can.”
The people in those photos felt like I do now. I can’t wait to go home. I’ve missed Duke so much even if he does hog the bed. TJ already has a full beach day planned with jet skis and Ozzy’s. Guessing Fireball might find its way into our summer plans. This time for toasting, not numbing.
But Graham.
The knot in my stomach tightens.
Several of the counselors are rounding up kids for group photos that will soon be added to the wall. Laughter permeating the campgrounds. No scheduled activity other than fun. Cass and I join the guys and Alison under one of the shady trees.
Graham spots our fearless leader. “Hey, Marco. Over here.”
Marco ambles over, all smiles, wearing a UCLA baseball hat.
Graham leans in to me. “I’m making it right.”
I can’t wait for my parents to meet him. They’re going to love him just like I do.
“Huddle up, you guys.” My boyfriend takes charge. “Let’s build a pyramid.”
“Cool idea.” Alison throws in her two cents. She’s got her camera at the ready.
“I’m not big on heights,” Ben says.
Jack lightly slaps him on the back. “We got you.”
“That’s what my group did. Our picture is near the back door of the rec center.” Marco gets nostalgic.
I bump Graham. “Score.”
“Jack, Marco and I will be the bottom row. Cass and Kai, take the middle. It’s gonna be an epic picture but we need you in the top spot, Ben. Conquer your fear, you can do it,” Graham encourages him.
Well played.
“Dude, you can totally do it,” Jack chimes in.
Marco and Jack flank Graham. I help Cass brace herself, one foot on Jack’s back, the other on Graham’s. Ben steadies me. If Ben’s apprehensive, he isn’t letting on. Alison lends him a hand as he balances himself on Cass and me before she starts shooting pictures.
I think about the significance of this pyramid. We built a foundation starting that very first day. We’ve continued to build our trust in one another, we’ve confided in one another. And now we’re stacked perfectly, holding one another up.
I should try this with my parents.
* * *
Camp smells like the inside of a barbecue restaurant. Smoky meat smells fill the air along with the pungent odor of bubbling sauce. Corn on the cob is packing the grills with sweet rolls just begging to be buttered.
Graham and I are the only two from our group still in line for food. Aaron races up, leaving his dodgeball game to greet me. “Kai, Kai!!”
He runs into my arms and I twirl him around while he squeals with glee. When I stop spinning him, he wraps his legs around my waist. His hair is damp from sweat, his grin showing off a missing tooth.
“You lost a tooth, buddy?”
“Yeah, the tooth fairy came last night. I can’t believe he found me.”
I put my forehead to his. “Just like Santa. They can always find you. It’s part of their magic.
“Aaron, this is Graham.”
Graham throws his hand up to high-five him. Aaron answers it with gusto. His hand is a quarter the size of Graham’s but there’s still a loud smack.
“There you are,” we hear Melia say, approaching us. “Let’s get some food, little guy,” she says, taking Aaron into her arms and walking with him to the little kids’ picnic table.
“How do you know that kid?”
“I met him last week when I was on a walk. His mom had cancer. He was so withdrawn from the group. I gravitated to him. We sat together while he painted a picture for me. It felt so good to do something for someone else. Not to talk about me or my feelings. Making him feel happy made me happy.”
“Kai, you were so amazing with him. His eyes lit up when he saw you.”
The compliment makes me slightly embarrassed, but it does fill me with joy.
“For the record, you’ve done plenty for all of us, especially me.” He soft-smiles at me.
Melting me into a pool of all the swoons and feels.
* * *
Today’s one-on-one with Marco has me unsettled. Group therapy has been a challenge but at least I know what to expect from that. This one-on-one, not so much. I’ve been dreading it since I read about it in the welcome packet on the first day. Graham walks with me to Marco’s cabin clenching my hand in his, knowing my apprehension.
“You’ll be fine, Kai.”
“Easy for you to say, you haven’t gone yet,” I tease.
Kind of.
“Jack said it really helped him. It’s just another tool to help us move forward. It’s all good. We aren’t gonna have this safety net much longer,” he reminds me. Stopping just outside Marco’s cabin, I turn toward Graham, whose dreamy eyes reassure me.
“Wish me luck.”
“Luck.” He laughs, letting my hand drop. “I’ll be here when you get out. Kai, you got this.”
I shake my head as I knock on the door. “Come on in, it’s open,” Marco yells from inside.
“Sit wherever you like, make yourself comfortable.” I take inventory of Marco’s cabin. Two oversize shabby chairs and a worn leather couch decorate his space. A picture of a stunning woman holding the hand of a very young Marco is taped to his wall.
“My mom before she got sick. Isn’t she beautiful?” With each syllable, I know his loss is every bit as deep as mine.
“You look just like her, Marco.” I make him blush.
He waits until I sit. I cross my legs, tucking them up in the chair. Marco hands me a bottle of water and sits down across from me.
“Kai, this is not going to be so bad. Think of it like a final exam with no grade involved.”
He laughs. I don’t.
And then there’s this awkward silence that I feel the need to fill.
“Something’s been bugging me and it isn’t going away and camp is almost over. I just can’t seem to let it go.”
“You can tell me anything.”
I look at the floor. “I just don’t understand how someone like Jen would want to die. Why? I still don’t know the answer.”
Marco pauses. “Seriously,” he asks, “why is that so important?”
“It just is.”
He puts his fingers together and leans toward me. “Honestly, Kai, no one really gets answers. Why did Ben walk away from the accident unhurt? Why didn’t Graham go with Justin? Things happen. You’re learning to understand your feelings. You’re validating all your anger and sorrow. The hardest thing is accepting that you just can’t know.”
It’s the one thing I really wanted from grief camp, and the one thing I’m not getting. “That’s what I can’t wrap my head around,” I say.
“You will. I promise.”
I look at his photo. His mother, gone. He said she was sick, so that’s his answer, I think. But why did she get sick? Can he ever really know?
I can keep on asking. I can keep not knowing. Or, like the Beatles song, I can let it be.
In this moment, I give in to belief.
Belief in Marco.
Belief in the process.
Because I have to.
Marco cocks his head slightly.
“You know, Kai, you’ve come a long way since you first got here. You’ve shown incredible strength. You’ll need all of that when you leave here.”
Please let him be right and please let that strength follow me back to Fort Lauderdale.
“I was so angry when I left ...” I start to say. “My parents just disappeared.” I’m angry now, too. “Why didn’t they do something?”
Marco’s voice stays calm. “Kai, your family didn’t go anywhere. The only one missing is Jen. Parents don’t always know what to do, and your parents brought you here. They needed help in helping you.”
“Why would Jen do this to me? To us?” Maybe this time he’ll tell me.
Patiently, he replies, “She didn’t do this to you or your parents. Jen did this to herself, then it affected all of you. The domino effect. Many people who kill themselves are one person on the outside and another on the inside. That’s why so many families never see it coming.”
“So what do we do?”
“Come together with your parents. Accept. Forgive.”
I study him while I allow those loaded words in.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“You just have to accept that it happened and there was nothing anyone could have done. Not you. Not your mom or your dad. Then you need to work on becoming a family again. You all did the best that you could at the time. You lost your sister, they lost their child. Now you can do a little better.”
“But they still had me and they forgot that,” I snap.
“Suicide cripples families, and yours was no exception. You need to forgive them.”
I sigh. “Okay, so how do I do that?”
“There are a few simple exercises I think might help.”
I have to try. “Hit me.”
“Make a list of the way your parents hurt you. Visualize forgiving them. Over and over. Release the anger. Then burn the list.”
I can do that. And maybe take it one step further. I say, “And do the same for myself?”
“You got it,” Marco says. “And then you talk to them. Not about Jen. Just talk. The words will build the relationship back to where it needs to be.”
My mind races to the pained expression on my father’s face when he left here and the way my mother rubbed my sister’s bracelet like she could feel her.
“I think I can do that.”
“I know you can, Kai.”
Chapter 24
I wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. In my cabin. Except we don’t have a coffeepot, we don’t even have coffee.
If my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I see Cass in her pajamas standing next to my bed with a cup of caffeine and a glazed donut.
“Happy last day of grief,” she jokes.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I say, propping myself up in my bed. Cass hands me the cup of piping-hot caffeine goodness.
“Vanilla creamer, just the way you like it. I seriously don’t know how you drink that junk. It’s artificial with no nutritional value whatsoever. You should try soy milk.”
“That will happen the day after never. Hey, did you go to the cafeteria in your pajamas?” I ask, realizing she’s dressed for bed.
“Like it matters.” She laughs.
I prop myself up against my pillow. Cass plops down on my bed, using my beloved throw to cover her feet.
I sip my morning surprise. Liquid heaven.
“How are you doing about leaving?” Cass asks.
“That’s all I’ve been thinking about. It’s the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. Surrendering the grief. That part I’m good with. Giving up seeing Graham and all of you on a daily basis, I absolutely am not. You?”
“There’s no one at home I can talk to. It’s scary,” she says. “We won’t have the group to lean on.”
“You know we’ll stay in contact no matter what comes up. We can talk, email, text, Skype. Friendship knows no distance. You heard Marco about his group.” I lean over and embrace Cass, hoping I believe all that.
She shoves me away playfully.
“Sorry I’m getting all Hallmarky on you.”
“I get it.” She jumps up and heads over to her suitcase, starting to pack. I’ve learned over the last few weeks that she’s not much for sitting still. Like my head, her body never shuts off.
She puts some music on her phone, dancing around carefree as she packs. Something I don’t think she would’ve done that first day no matter how talky she was. Now there’s a freedom and confidence that rule her.
“How do you think it’s gonna be with your parents?” she asks as she folds her clothes.
“I can’t wait to see them. Our last few calls have been more open. Even my dad has been more talkative. They’ve been going to therapy the entire time I’ve been here.”
“Just like you. You can help each other just like we all did.”
I never thought of it like that. Maybe we needed to separate to come back together.
“It seems like we just got here.” I roll off the bed, taking a bite of sugary goodness, gathering my clothes from the floor and stuffing them into my duffel bag. My mom will probably have a heart attack when she sees this packing job. But it’s no different from my room. No one said organization was part of grief camp. I wrap one of my shirts around Aaron’s picture of Duke.
My eyes land on the framed crocheted quote on the wall.
Only when it’s dark enough, you can see the stars.
I must have been lingering and staring for a while. Cass slinks up and plants her fingers firmly on my shoulder.
“I’ve been obsessing on this every morning since we checked in,” she says.
“Me, too,” I say quietly. “I think that’s what this has all been about. Getting through all of the darkness to see the light.”
“Will it ever be okay again?” Cass wonders.
“It depends on how you define okay,” I say, with a hint of humor. “At least it won’t suck as bad.”
* * *
Hanging smack in between two giant pine trees, Graham and I lie in a white mesh hammock. I can’t believe we’ve walked by this every single day and never jumped in. It’s like lying on a pillow of air.
Floating.
“I’m so glad we skipped lunch and came out here,” I say.
“I want to spend every minute with you before we go home.” Pretty sure my whole body just broke out in a smile.
We’ve taken up residence in the hammock, my head at one end, his at the other, legs intertwined in the middle. So natural and right. He writes in his journal while I read Franny and Zooey, again. I reach next to my waist and grab his foot because I can. He sets his journal on his chest. I can tell by the glint in his eyes that he has an idea. A closed-mouth smile glides across his face.
“I have an idea. Something I’ve been thinking about for the last two weeks.”
He’s got my undivided attention.
“Let’s apply to be junior camp counselors next summer. I talked to Marco about it after I saw you with that little boy.” His eyes get wide as he continues. “We’d get to spend the entire summer together. You know, help other kids just like us. It could be our thing.”
I flash back to Aaron and hope fills me. Like head to toe, not just a little bit. A lot.
I grab his foot again and give it a squeeze. “Our thing. I like the way that sounds.”
“Thought you might.”
He starts to sit up, nearly toppling both of us out of the hammock and onto the ground.
“Hey, are you trying to kill me?” I try to act all irritated but we both know I’m so not.
Steadying himself, he crawls up toward my end of the hammock, using the croqueted rope holes to get to me.
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“What am I gonna do with you?” I tease him.
“I can think of a few things,” he says, his grin peppered with sexy.
I shake my head but I’m thinking the very same things, I’m certain of it.
“So you know the day I went to play basketball with Jack?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“I kinda lied. But for a really good reason.”
I’m a little peeved. “Not big on lying.”
There’s that damn smirk again. My inner Kai begs me to resist.
“You’re cute when you’re trying not to look pissed about something you have no idea about,” he states, messing with me.
I raise my eyebrows. “Spit it out.”
He plucks a woven leather bracelet from the side pocket of his olive cargo pants.
“Jack and I did play basketball, but I cut out early to make this for you.”
Melting.
“When you look at it, you can remember our first summer together. Know it’s not going to be our last.” He takes my wrist and ties together the strands of leather on each end of the bracelet. “I’ll always be with you.”
This. Guy.
“You like it?”
Does he really have to ask?
“No, I don’t like it.” I let him sweat for a nanosecond, then plant a fat kiss on his dreamy lips. “I love it.”
He locks his arms around me so tightly that a piece of paper couldn’t fit between us. We stay that way for so many breaths, I’m lulled into a calm. When we finally break apart, we lose ourselves in each other’s stare. I fiddle with my bracelet, then ease my head onto his broad shoulder, wishing I could stay there forever.
But I can’t.
* * *
There’s final, and then there’s final.
The final that brought me here differs greatly from the final before me. For our last afternoon group session, we all meet at the rec center but instead of working on a banner — something that’s apparently a Tree House tradition — Marco surprises us with a different closing exercise.
“We’re taking a hike down to a stream that runs into the lake. Our last activity will take place there.”
“Sounds good to me.” Graham grabs my hand without hesitation as we follow the others into the lush forest.
