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Griffin
The gray sky stretches over the city as I drive through the streets. Snow flurries had started to fall to the ground, but any trace of the magic quickly dissolved into the earth. It's thekind of snow that keeps the roads easy to drive, and the hope for a white Christmas in the air.
As I round the corner, I pull into Ellie’s driveway and throw the car into park.
Sliding out of my seat, I move to stand, close the door, and nervously push the sleeves of my brown, crew neck sweater up to my elbows. I immediately regret that decision when the cold air bites at my skin, and I pull the sleeves back down. If Ellie is watching me from the window, I’m certain I look like an idiot.
Walking up to the porch steps, I lift my hand to knock, but the door opens before I get there. Ellie’s wide smile greets me, and I open the screen door to let her out.
“Are we leaving right now?” she asks.
“I mean, we can leave whenever. It’s our date. Why?”
She grabs my arm, dragging me into the living room and closing the door behind me. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back, and I don’t want you to wait out in the cold.”
I’m left standing alone to take in the dark green walls and the collection of photographs hanging by the door. I see Ellie with a woman who looks similar to her, a tall man, and a small child no more than two-years-old. There’s another photo, too. One that makes an ache form in the middle of my chest.
Ellie looks eight or nine. Both front teeth are missing, and she’s smiling up at the sun through the trees. Knelt down next to her is another woman with the same soft brown eyes, her hair braided over one shoulder–her mouth firmly planted on Ellie’s cheek. The bottom corner of the photograph has some scribbled handwriting.
Mom and me. Before.
“Before the cancer.” I turn to find she’s returned, a steaming travel mug gripped in one hand. Her long dark hair partially tucked into her puffy coat.
I don’t say anything–knowing exactly how she may feel in this moment. I know that when my brother died, I loved talking about the good memories. It helped me cope. But people were far more curious about the crash–the thing that killed him. Days were filled withI’m so sorry,andhow did it happen?The worst was when they would inevitably ask if he was drunk.
He wasn’t.
I stay silent, waiting to see what Ellie wants to share instead of asking. To me, it’s the kindest thing I can do.
“I have a lot of memories with her,” she begins. “That one’s my favorite, though.” Ellis sets her coffee mug on the end table and walks over to me to stare at the picture. I’m not sure what to do, but I want to do something. Without looking, I move my hand just slightly, but it doesn’t matter. She wraps her pinky around mine as we stare at the person who was taken from her.
I hate that it happened at all.
I hate that we both know what it’s fucking like.
“She used to take me to the nature centers in all the surrounding parks. I think it’s because it was free, and being a single mom, free was always the best option.” When I look at Ellis, her eyes look glassy. “I like this picture because she’s kissing my cheek, and she looks really happy about it, too.” I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be happy about being around Ellis. She’s bright like the stars. A steady light–one that brings peace to the darkness.
“You said your aunt raised you?” I ask.
“Yeah, B. She’s great, but I know it was hard on her. It’s not easy to graduate college and suddenly have a dead sister, and a thirteen-year-old you have to take care of.” Ellie looks over at me. “Sorry. We aren’t supposed to be talking about this.”
“I like that you are,” I say, my voice low. “Talk as much or as little as you like. I want to hear what you have to say. I want to know you, Ellis.”
She offers me a small smile. “Ready?” she asks.
Grabbing her hand, I squeeze once before picking up her coffee mug and holding it. “Yeah.”
When we get into the Jeep, I start the car and find her hand again. For whatever reason, I don’t want to let go. I wouldn’t drop her fucking hand for anything.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
I smile at her. “You said you wanted to sleep under the stars on your bucket list. It’s December, cold as shit, and a little too early for sleeping.”
“Okay,” she drags out the word, her brows furrowing.
I steal a kiss before letting my foot off the brake, and pulling away from her house.
“We’re going to the science museum, Ellis. They have a planetarium. It was the best I could do.”
