“What business was it?” she whispers, eyes still wide, chin trembling.
“What business do you think?” I answer. Her mouth opens and closes, trying desperately to make sense of the crumbs I am leaving for her to pick up. Only then will she truly understand.
“I thought it was your uncle who got you into the business?” she asks.
“My uncle got me into it, but only because my father was dead.” Her hand reaches out and holds mine.
“When did your father die?”
I trace my thumb over her wrist. “Patience. Don’t you want to hear the rest of the story?”
“When did he die?” Her throat bobs, and I lift my hand to touch her jaw, caressing it lightly.
I don’t answer her question. Instead, I continue to relive that day. Smell the trees, taste the ice cream, remember the way my cheeks burned from smiling so wide.
“When I think back, I should have known it would all go to shit. I should have known I didn’t deserve the happiness. I was the son of a monster after all. After the walk. I wanted to go eat ice cream for breakfast, and we did. The next place we went was to a local ice cream shop. It was the old-fashioned kind, where you sat down, and they had milkshakes and servers in a little apron.”
“We had one of those where I grew up . . .” she trails off, but I continue.
“I ordered a waffle cone with two scoops of vanilla ice cream, extra whipped cream. If I think really hard, I can still taste it.” Skye smiles, our hands still joined. She squeezes. “After the ice cream, my dad made a call. I expected the day to end, but I was wrong. It was only just beginning.”
The whole time I speak, she never breaks our stare. “What happened that day?”
“A massacre. My father died. And a girl saved me.” Lifting her hand, I turn it over until the small paper airplane tattoo faces me, and I place a kiss on it.
She sucks in a gulp of air. “I don’t understand.” Her face is pale like she’s seen a ghost.
“What don’t you understand?” I ask. Then she speaks, and my breath leaves my body.
“But-but you’re dead.”
37
Skye
I look into Tobias’s deep blue eyes, and nothing makes sense. I was told he was dead. His gaze is unwavering as his mouth opens.
“I’m the plane. You’re the sky.”
My eyes close at his words, and then I’m back there, Twenty years ago, seeing it all as if it’s happening now.
“Wake up, darling,” I hear from beside me. My arms stretch out and wipe away the sleep.
My mom is standing beside my bed, cupcake in hand, a candle lit and waiting for me to blow. This is her tradition. Every March second, on my birthday, she wakes me up with a cupcake. And from here, I get to be a princess for the day.
No matter what I want, I can do it. It’s a yes day. I know exactly what I want to do. I want to go to Marvelous Michael’s, so I close my eyes and make a wish. I wish for a birthday like no other. Full of excitement and adventure. Not that anything interesting happens in Reddington. I live in the most boring place on earth.
Mommy and Daddy don’t like it, either. They mention mean men, but I don’t know what they are talking about. I have never seen a bad guy.
I have never seen anything. Hence the wish. I wish something exciting would happen. Something you only see in the movies.
“What’s the pout for, sunshine?”
“I’m not pouting.”
Her soft finger reaches up and pats my lips. I smile.
She’s right, I was.
“Only smiles on your birthday.”
Then she reaches her hand out. “Come on, big plans today!”
I allow my mom to pull me up and out of bed, then head into the bathroom. Mom says I have to brush my teeth and get showered. Now that I’m six years old, Mom trusts me to do this on my own.
I’m not sure how long I shower, but at some point, my mom knocks on the door, and I have to assume I’ve been in here for a long time. I throw on the clothes I put on the floor, and then I head out to meet my parents in the kitchen, where they have breakfast waiting for me.
“What are we gonna do today?” I ask.
“Anything you want,” my dad answers.
“Anything I want, you say?” My mother nods at my question. “Well, then, I want to go get milkshakes then to Marvelous Michael’s,” I tell her.
“Good choice,” they say in unison.
We spend the morning being lazy. We eat breakfast. We watch TV. I open presents. They give me a sun necklace. It’s a small sun made up of little sparkles. Daddy said it’s diamonds.
From what I heard, diamonds are very expensive. I proudly put it on, beaming up at them.
“Time to go.”
Together, we all head to the car, and then we are off.
Al’s Diner. It’s in town, and all the kids love it for their birthday because of the freshly baked cakes, fried funnel cake, and best of all, milkshakes.
I heard Mom and Dad say they hope it stays open. I’m not sure what that means. Why wouldn’t it stay open? But they mention a mall being built. I have no clue what they are talking about, but I’m happy to be going there.
Once inside, I head straight to the booth we always go to.
There is even a jukebox in the corner. That’s one of my favorite parts, getting quarters from my parents and playing all the old music.
My parents sit at a table, and I ask if I can have quarters and walk around alone. I’m six now, after all.
I check out all the tables as I walk. Every one of them, hoping to see anyone I know from school. I don’t recognize anyone. There aren’t even any kids here today. Lots of old people. But I do see the small door behind the jukebox. I have always wondered what’s in there. I’m not supposed to open it, but still, I’m curious. It’s hidden, after all, and no one will know.
I peek inside, but it’s nothing. It feels like a major disappointment. I thought maybe it would lead to a secret pathway.
Shrugging it off, I fill the machine with quarters and pick my songs. I place my last coin in the slot, and I turn around to see my parents ordering. They have a goofy smile on their face, and I know without any doubt they didn’t just order me the milkshake; they ordered me the birthday special. It’s a giant sundae with a million scoops of ice cream, and they even have sparklers on it. I didn’t tell them I wanted it, but I did.
I'm surprised how empty the restaurant is. Typically, there are more kids here. But today, there are only a few tables full. Maybe ten. No kids. Wait, that’s not true. There is a boy at one of the tables. He looks a few years older than me. Like that age where he’s almost a teen but not quite. I watch as he stands, and then he’s looking in my direction.
He’s all by himself. He seems happy, and when he turns away, I see him waving at a man at the table directly next to the one he just stood from. It’s probably his dad.
His dad is surrounded by a bunch of other men, and they seem to be in deep conversation. The boy’s lips thin like he’s annoyed that his dad isn’t paying attention to him, but then he goes back to walking in my direction. I step away and start back to my table. As he puts a coin in the jukebox and flips through the music selection, I stop and watch him, wondering what type of song he will pick.