I settle on the bed next to him as he moves to a sitting position. His chest is bare and his abs rippled and tan against the white sheet. I give him the soup and germs be damned, snuggle up to his side, hoping that just by being here maybe he’ll feel a little better.
38
Pete
After Summer disappeared backinto Whit’s room to take care of him, Justin decided to stay down in Richard’s house, away from the illness but close enough if they need him. I headed home to my parents’ small house a few blocks away from the trailer park. I pass my father’s work truck, going in the front door, and they’re asleep when I get home. Even though I wake up early, my mother’s in the kitchen when I get up the next morning.
“Hey,” I say, heading to the cabinet for a bowl and some cereal. “Where’s Dad?”
“He had a delivery coming in early for the development in Shallotte.”
My parents got married when they were sixteen. I came seven months later. My dad and his whole family worked as welders, inside the union, the whole deal. My mother worked retail occasionally but mostly stayed home. They worked hard for me to have a different life, different choices, and the pridethey have about me going to Clemson and into engineering is something they can’t hide.
I don’t mind their encouragement, not the way Whit does, even though it can be a bit smothering at times. They were strict when I was growing up, to keep me on the straight-and-narrow, to keep me from being distracted. But as I get close to graduation they’ve seemed tenser than before. Like they think I’m going to blow it at any moment.
I eat quickly and my mother checks the clock on the microwave, “You in a hurry?”
“Last night when Justin and I got home from the marina, Whit was pretty sick. I’m going to run by before work.”
Her forehead creases. “You call his parents?”
“No. You know he’s not talking to them right now.”
“So, Justin stayed with him?”
I shovel in the last spoonful of cereal. “Summer.”
“The Barnes girl?”
The crease becomes deeper and I take my bowl over to the sink, rinsing it under the water. “Yes, Mom. You know she’s back.”
“Why is she taking care of Whit?”
I haven’t told my parents everything about our relationship with Summer. Not only wouldn’t they understand, they would also be terrified she’d be a distraction from my future. That was one of the reasons we made the pact back in high school. Get out of Ocean Beach. I just didn’t realize the reason for staying here would roll up in a shiny, Airstream trailer.
My mother’s fear of me knocking up some local girl or tourist vanished, but were replaced by a new horror of me chasing a girl too interested in my best friends.
“Because she had the time and she’s a nice person, Mother.” She rolls her eyes at my use of the word “mother.” She deserves it. “I’ve got a busy day. I’ll see you later, okay?”
She nods and I kiss her forehead. Her tense expression softens but I still see traces of worry in her eyes. She touches my hand. “You be careful.”
“I will,” I tell her, and I don’t know if this is her standard request for my safety or something more—most likely involving my heart. What she doesn’t understand is that it’s in good hands. The safest hands, and I’ve never felt so motivated or focused in my life.
Before I leave the driveway, I text Summer.
P-Need anything? How’s the patient? How are you?
A few moments later, a text rolls through.
S-Whit had a long, fever-filled night. Sleeping now. Could you stop by the trailer and get me some clothes?
P-Yep. Headed there now.
The drive to the trailer park is short. When I was in high school I could walk or ride my bike over—it’s one reason I started working here. I park by Anita’s and walk down the pathway to Summer’s trailer. It’s early enough that I’m surprised to see someone on the path, double surprised to see that it’s Avery.
“Hey, man,” I say as we get closer to one another. He hadn’t noticed me yet and jumps a little.
“Oh, Pete, hey.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You working this early?”
