Hank frowns. “We all know she’s never been ice-skating or even come close to a frozen pond since Laurie’s accident.” He blows out a breath. “I’d hate for her to lose her livelihood because of a near miss. When I was sick last year, at first she refused to even talk to me about it, and then when she did, she acted like she was gonna be my savior.”
We sit quietly for a second, each of us in our thoughts.
“I could give her more time, but I don’t think that’s the answer,” I confess.
“What about therapy?” Fisher says, picking up from beside the couch that old safe that he had a couple weeks ago and examining it again as though it will just spring open in his hands.
“Still can’t get that thing open?” I ask.
Fisher shakes his head.
Hank looks at it and stills. “Where did you find that?”
Fisher gives me a mischievous grin. Just like he used to when Hank caught us doing something we shouldn’t and got us in trouble. “The basement.”
“Let me see it.” Hank holds out his hands and takes it, giving it a good once-over. “This was your mother’s.”
“Yeah?” Fisher’s eyebrows rise into his hairline.
“Where in the basement?”
“It was behind a cinder block, way back in the crawl space.”
Hank huffs and tries the lock.
“So you recognize it?” Fisher asks.
He nods. “Your mother put it together. There are things inside… I’m not sure what. She wouldn’t tell me.” He looks at it longingly. “I completely forgot about this.”
“What was it for?” Fisher asks.
“Two years before she died, she felt a lump in her breast.” He continues to study the safe as if he’s remembering little by little. “Your mom convinced herself she had cancer and asked me to get her one of these small safes. She didn’t want any of you kids to be able to get into it. I obliged because I loved her, but I kept saying we should just wait until she’d gone in for the ultrasound. Whatever is in here”—he jiggles it—“she put in there because she thought she was dying.”
“Why would she do that and not give you the key?” Fisher asks.
“I think she did. Maybe. I don’t know. Why didn’t she destroy it after we found out it was just a fatty deposit? Why keep it?”
Answers they’ll never get since Mrs. Greene died.
“My assumption is she forgot about it too.” Hank hands it back to Fisher. “Raising five kids… we were busy, and it probably slipped her mind. I guess the question is, do you want to open it?”
Fisher sighs and looks at it. “I don’t know. I guess it needs to be a joint sibling decision, right? I don’t want to open Pandora’s box, and them all hate me for whatever’s in here.”
Hank chuckles. “I think your siblings would be happy to have anything that was your mother’s. But you’re right. It’s a sibling decision.” He eyes Fisher. “Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone—help your sister and see what’s in that thing.”
Fisher glances at me then down at the safe. He nods and turns to me, and I know what his plan is. “I’m sorry, man, you can’t be part of this one. It’s a sibling thing, but if it works, she’s gonna be okay.”
I nod, trusting my best friend.
Hank smiles at his son. Everyone knows Fisher isn’t a sentimental guy, so what he’s about to do, opening this thing up in front of his siblings when no one knows what’s inside, is a big deal.
“Thank you.” I stand.
“Don’t thank me until it works.”
I leave Fisher’s and head back to our house, hoping Chevelle is ready to face this fear and tackle it once and for all.
When I get home, Chevelle is on the couch, Gunner snuggled in next to her. They’re watching television.
Obviously, Fisher hasn’t called yet.
“Want to come to the warehouse with me? You were supposed to be my partner this off-season.” I sit in the chair adjacent to her.
She shakes her head. “I’m about to find out who the father is.”
I pick up the remote and click off the TV.
“Cam!” she shouts.
I slide onto the coffee table in front of her. “Listen, Chevelle, I know you’re shaken. I’m shaken. It was scary, but we’re both still here. Still living. Except you’re not living, you’re hiding.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do!” I shout. Realizing that won’t solve anything, I lower my voice. “I do understand. I was there. I know how scared I was when I saw Cliff push you under the water. You think I’m not scared shitless that I almost lost you? You think I won’t worry every time you’re out on the water without me? And I wish, oh how I wish I could promise you that nothing will ever happen to me. That you’ll never lose me. But then I’d break that promise at some point and I don’t break promises to you.”
Tears fall from her eyes. She quickly wipes them away.
I slide to the end of the table, reaching for her. She sits up and Gunner places his head on her lap, staring up at her. “I don’t break my word to you. Ever. But what happened is no reason to stop living. If you’re not busy living, you’re busy dying.”
Her phone rings on the table, but she doesn’t reach for it.
I grab it when I see Fisher’s name on the screen and hand it to her. “I think you should answer this.”
She looks at the phone and scrunches her eyes. Clearing her throat, she accepts the call, “Hey. Fish… uh-huh… no… why… Fine… okay.” She hangs up.
Clearly, it took some pushing on Fisher’s part.
“Are you in on this?” she asks, sounding put out.
“On what?”
“The fact that we’re all going to my mom’s grave? It’s like payback because I’ve done it to two people I lo… never mind.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to not smile because she almost said love. “No.”
She stands. “I’ll go, but I don’t understand why no one can just give me some time.” She continues to complain as she goes upstairs to change.
I pet Gunner. “Cross your paws, buddy. If this works, we’ll get our happy, call-you-out-on-your-shit Chevelle back.”
28
“YOU’RE PROBABLY NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS.”
Chevelle
I arrive at Mom’s gravesite. My brothers and my dad are already there, standing around waiting for me. I do not like being in this role. I like being the one who calls these meetings.
“Hello,” I say with zero enthusiasm.
“Hey, Chevelle.” Adam hugs me.
Then each of my brothers hugs me too. They’re not normally that affectionate with me. Here we go again with them treating me like damaged goods. But I don’t say anything. Instead, I take my place at the end of the line they’ve formed in front of Mom’s grave.
“X?” Cade says, putting Xavier on FaceTime and passing his phone to my dad.