Frog nods in agreement. “Auntie Mint was like that. She was always looking out for everyone else. Even…me.” Her face falls. She runs a finger around the rim of her coffee cup. “She was a kickass woman. Literally. She kicked my ass multiple times during training.”
Something aches in my chest. It feels like grief, but I don’t want to let it in. “Yeah?”
She nods. “Frog, your teep kick is so weak.” She mimics my mom perfectly, with some New York bluntness.
Memories flood that I try to shut. “She used to tell me the same thing.”
“I know,” Frog says. “She’d talk about you a lot. How she trained you too. How proud she was of everything you accomplished. She kept saying how lucky I was to have you as a mentor.” She nods over and over. Eyes glassing as she drills her gaze into her coffee.
My own eyes feel raw even without tears in them. With my free hand, I rub at them. My other hand, I keep tight in Sulli’s. “Can we talk about anything else?” I ask under my breath.
Banks nods to Frog. “I’ve been meaning to ask about your nickname.”
Frog removes her gaze off her coffee, and I’m glad to see her smile. At the funeral, I wasn’t the only one looking lost and alone. I realize quickly she wasn’t friendly with anyone there other than her parents and us. In fact, our cousins kept staring at her like she had a scarlet letter on her dress.
“My dad loves the old traditional Thai superstitions,” she tells him. “A lot like Akara’s dad.” She tips her head to me with a soft smile. “Anyway, there’s an old folktale that evil spirits are always on the prowl for newborns, so unconventional nicknames are used to trick them. No evil spirits want a frog. Even cute little green ones.” She rips open a sugar packet. “My mom isn’t Thai, but she loves the nickname the most.” She smiles, thinking about her mom who I know she misses, then she winces at me. “Sorry, is that insensitive?”
“What? Talking about your mom because I just lost mine.” I put a hand to my chest. “I’m not that sensitive, Frog.”
She sees that it’s fine. “Okay, good.” She exhales. “I mean, you can be sensitive. Cry if you need to.”
“Tears aren’t coming.” I sound like an ass. I grimace. “They’re just dried up.” If I could cry, I would, but I’m wrestling with so many feelings.
Frog rests her temple on her fist, turned towards me. “You know my dad always gave your dad shit about your nickname.”
I frown. “What?”
“Yeah.” She smiles like she stole something. “They nicknamed you Nine because you were born at nine-oh-nine, and my dad didn’t think that was good enough to confuse an evil spirit. They must’ve really loved the name Nine. My dad said you were doomed.”
I laugh, then nod. “Maybe he was right.”
“Kits,” Sulli says. “You’re not fucking doomed. If you are, then we all are.”
“Amen,” Banks agrees.
If I was fated for something bad, I shouldn’t want to drag them with me—but I’m at a place where I know we’re all going down together if we ever go.
“My dad was wrong,” Frog says to me. “You own a security firm that protects famous people and you own a gym—and you’re about to marry Sullivan Meadows.”
Sulli smiles.
It’s hard not to smile back. And I look to Banks; he nods to me—and to say I’m glad he’s here is the biggest understatement of the century.
Their love guides me, and I reach for the letter on the table. Not thinking, just feeling, and I swear they all cage breath as I rip open the envelope.
It’s just a simple white sheet of paper, folded into threes. I unfurl the letter, my mom’s beautiful handwriting staring back at me.
Still without thinking, I read the letter out loud. “Dear Nine,” I say, my throat already swelling. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t say a proper goodbye, but I thought this would be easier…I’ve never wanted to be a burden on you…” Shit. I pinch the bridge of my nose, eyes shut. Trying not to lose it.
I can’t speak.
So silently, I read the rest. The letter clenched between my fingers.
You’re my strong, unbreakable son. And your dad always said your future was brighter than the stars in the sky. I knew it too. You are our greatest gift to this Earth, Nine. Before I left, there was something I needed you to have.
I know how much family you’ve lost. From growing up in Philly. From your father’s death. And inevitably mine. But she needs you as much as you need her. Hold on to Frog.
Hold on to each other. And know that you may have lost me, but you’re not alone. You both have memories to share and stories to tell. You’ll keep the ones you love alive.
And just like your father, I will love you forever. Even after I’m gone.
Love, Mom
Now I’m crying, and I put the letter into Frog’s hand while I tell Banks and Sulli, “She wanted me and Frog to have each other. That’s why she really sent her here.”
Sulli starts crying, and Banks curses in shock.
The minute Frog stops reading, she hugs me. I feel her tears soak my chest. My mom knew Frog grew up without family. Like I did.
“She’s a legend,” Frog manages to say.
Without a doubt.
My anger starts dissipating off my body. My grief will come and go, I’m sure, just like with my dad. But I think it’ll be different too. She made sure that my memories of her were limited, maybe to shelter me from the pain.
It’s a gift she tried to give me.
I’ll always remember that.
62
BANKS MORETTI
Life is short.
I’ve known that since my brother died, but hell, it keeps slamming into all of us. Over and over. “I’m sick of losing people,” I tell them.
Early morning, the three of us are naked in Sulli’s large soup-bowl bathtub. Where Sulli lost her virginity. Bubbles pile high above the warm water, the cedar and pine scent soaking our bare skin, and Sulli lies back against my chest. Her legs opened around Akara.
“Me too,” Akara says.
“Me three.” Sulli draws a finger through the bubbles, creating swirls.
Akara pushes his hair back with a wet hand. “But it doesn’t really end. People die. People leave. It’s the story of life, man.” A couple days have passed since the funeral, and he’s been doing better. Talking more. The letter from his mom helped, giving Akara enough closure to stop bottling that kind of anger. The kind I’ve been letting go too.
With my arms extended over the lip of tub, I crack a crooked smile, biting a toothpick. “This must be the emo-punk side of you coming out now that you’ve joined The Carraways.”
He gives me a pointed look. “That was a one-time thing.”
Sulli snorts. “You loved it.”
“He did,” I agree.
He blows bubbles in Sulli’s face. “I love being your bodyguard more, Sul.”
She swats the bubbles away. “Kits.”
I drop my arms around her frame and palm her breasts under the water.