“And what do you think now, Freud?” Renn spits the toothpick out the window, smirking.
“Now I just think you’re an immature tool bag.”
“See? It was a great idea to reconnect.” He faux punches me on the arm. “Now you know that I’m a fuckboy, and I know that you are still a gloomy chick who overthinks everything and has the taste buds of a five-year-old.”
We grin at each other as the car slows into a traffic jam leading to the airport.
“But seriously.” Renn scratches at his stubble. “What do you think you’re going to do after Mom’s new gravestone is done?”
“Study,” I say with finality. Because this is the one thing I have made up my mind about. I don’t know where I want to live, but I want to study arts and media. I want to pursue my dreams.
“Duh. But where?” he asks.
“Don’t know yet.”
On one hand, California is where my family is. I have a human net to catch me here, if things go bad. On the other, I love Massachusetts. New England feels like my place. It also offers an array of really great art programs. New England is also where Joe is. Where the drug I crave the most is.
Renn pulls in front of the terminal. He doesn’t have to get out of the car. I only have a duffel bag. I’ll be back in just a couple of days.
“Take care of Loki.” I wiggle a finger in his face.
“That bastard thinks so highly of himself; he needs to take care of me!”
“Take care of each other, then.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Try not to get engaged in the few days you’re spending there!” Renn calls to my back as I jog toward the revolving door. “Again.”
I flip him the bird and disappear inside the airport.
My first stop after I land at Logan Airport is Gemma and Brad’s home.
It makes sense to visit them first, because it is the part I dread the most and I’d like to get it out of the way. I splurge on a taxi ride to their house. I texted Gemma from the plane and asked if it was a good time to meet.
Gemma: It is always a good time to see you, Lynne! Of course. Come on over.
When the cab stops in front of their house, I’m bursting with trepidation. I’ve met the Graveses a few times after Dom passed away, but we always had a buffer. Sarah, Joe, Dad, Renn, Nora, and Colt. They were all here to take over when the conversation became stilted. Now I need to face Gemma and Brad on my own.
I tip the driver and waddle out of the back seat, holding my duffel bag close to my chest. I knock on their door twice and foolishly pray they don’t open. Gemma contributes to my irrational hope by taking her time before flinging it open. But then she is here, thinner than I remembered. Her skin wraps around her bones like a spiderweb, and she looks tired, but she is still smiling.
“Lynne! Hello. You look well, my dear.”
She draws me into a hug. I fall into her arms and surprise myself by not sobbing. I think I’m fresh out of tears and grief. I’m also relieved to say goodbye to Dom’s engagement ring. Yes, I loved him. And maybe he loved me. But that ring didn’t mean what it was supposed to mean. To either of us.
“Coming through. Coming through.”
Brad maneuvers his way to the door, and that’s when I notice their entrance is full of boxes. He reaches to hug me, and I squeeze him with a smile. Brad giving hugs is a new and welcome development. I wonder if he is a little less stoic, now that he’s been reminded of the fragility of our existence.
“What’s going on? Are you moving?” I step inside, following Gemma to the kitchen.
She waves her hand. “No, no. Joe brought over things from Dominic’s apartment. I still need to unpack them.”
“I’d love to help,” I offer sincerely. It’s going to suck, but not as hard as it would for Gemma and Brad to do it all by themselves.
“Nonsense.” She flicks the kettle on as soon as we get to the kitchen. “It gives us something to do. And . . . you know, it’s good to reminisce.”
Her eyes shine with tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. I reach over across the breakfast nook she is leaning against and hold her hand. “I know,” I say.
“Joe tells me you helped him in San Francisco. He was so happy to write again. That’s really kind of you.” She wipes her eyes quickly.
Brad walks into the kitchen and silently tucks tea bags into mugs.
“Oh, he was a lifesaver for me too,” I say. I also mean that literally.
Gemma looks like she is about to say something more but then shakes her head, as if ridding herself of an unpleasant thought.