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“So I’ve been told,” Elijah says, his gaze darting to me.
“I think we should celebrate,” Mr. Cade’s voice booms. “I spoke with the Reinharts, and they’re happy to meet us for lunch. What do you say, Elijah?”
He blinks. “Sounds … great, thanks.”
We walk out of the courthouse together, this weird group of people who are all somehow related in ways that aren’t blood.
As we step out into the chilly December air, I gaze up at the sky, a cloudless blue, and then close my eyes. I miss you, Sasha. And I did the best that I could.
We pile into Mr. Cade’s SUV, Elijah and I in the back seat. He marvels at how creamy soft the leather interior feels, and then he takes my hand. My pulse quickens.
In the rearview mirror, I catch Mrs. Cade’s eyes as they trail to our clasped hands. She looks away. And grins.
Leave it to Mr. Cade to take us to the fanciest restaurant in the county. The Blue Crab is an upscale seafood restaurant only accessible to members of the country club next door. Elijah’s eyes widen as we enter and are taken to our reserved table. The Reinharts are already here, and although they introduce themselves, it feels like we’re all family, right from the start.
Mrs. Cade directs Elijah to the seat next to hers. “I want to hear all about you,” she says, fawning over him the same way she used to fawn over Sasha. “Tell me everything.”
“Everything would take a long time,” Elijah says, unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap. “How about I start with the day I met Sasha online?”
“Even better,” Mrs. Cade says, touching his arm.
“There’s a popular website for adopted kids to search out their family members,” he begins. Everyone at the table watches him. “I signed up under the Texas forum and made a post for my little sister. After a million dead ends, I kind of forgot about it until one day a few weeks later, when Sasha replied to my message. She was mad because she’d messaged me several times over a week but I hadn’t checked my email so I didn’t get them. But when I did reply, and we started talking, it was like an instant connection. She made me send her a picture of myself, but she didn’t send me one right away, saying she had to make sure I wasn’t a murderer first.”
The Cades chuckle and wait with anticipation for him to continue telling these stories of his life. And he does. He tells us about Sasha’s emails, the long stories she’d tell him about her childhood. The kind things she had to say about her adoptive parents, and how she’d wished he could meet them. Mrs. Cade is so engrossed with his stories that she doesn’t even touch her salad.
Elijah hasn’t had a chance to check his email yet, but I can’t wait for him to watch Sasha’s final video. He’ll probably want to show it to everyone else, but I want him to watch it by himself the first time.
Our food is outstandingly delicious — like seriously, seafood this good should be illegal — and after a few moments, we’re talking and laughing and sharing stories about the beautiful girl who brought us all together. And though she isn’t here, there’s an empty chair at our round table that’s set for seven, and I keep staring at it, imagining Sasha’s spirit hanging out there just beyond the realm of what I can see.
I think she’d be happy, thrilled even, to see this reunion. And it hits me, as I’m dipping a forkful of salmon into garlic butter, that I’ll never get to tell her about this day. She will never again be the girl sitting across from me on my bed, eyes wide, the air smelling like wet nail polish, listening to my stories and telling me exactly what she thinks about them. For the rest of my life, I will only have moments like these. Moments I will treasure, but moments I can’t share with her.
The pain of her death hits me all over again, and suddenly I am back in the Cades’ library, wa
king up to find my best friend dead. With a deep, shaking breath, I take the cloth napkin from my lap and dab at my eyes.
Elijah stops talking, looks over and takes my hand. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, sniffling. My ears burn with the knowledge that our entire table is watching me. I gaze at that empty chair. “I just miss her.”
“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Cade says loudly, scooting her chair back. She comes and leans over me, wrapping me in a motherly hug that smells like perfume and baby powder. “We all miss her. But we’re going to be okay.”
The other adults at the table say encouraging things, but I don’t really hear them all. I breathe in and out, watching that empty chair across from me, wondering why the hell life is so hard. Sasha is the one who died, after all. All I have to do is pick up the pieces and carry on without her. After my unexpected breakdown, Mr. Cade asks Elijah about his interests for the future.
“Have you looked into colleges?”
Elijah stares at his fork. “Kind of. I have this dream career that I’m pretty sure is impossible to attain, but Sasha was pretty insistent that I try to get into college. She mailed me all these brochures and stuff.”
The Cades exchange an impressed look that makes me want to cringe. Is it so hard to think he’s capable of rising through poverty and dreaming big dreams? Sasha believed in him, and I do, too.
Elijah continues, “Before I worry about college, I need to find a new job as soon as possible. Mr. Reinhart’s been helping me with that.”
Mr. Reinhart nods. “Economy has gone down the tubes, Walter. I used to have contacts around here, but I can’t find the boy a job anywhere.” He adjusts his glasses, frown lines appearing around his lips. “I told him he doesn’t have to pay me rent or anything, but we simply don’t have the money to help out much with things he may need. College would be a dream, but a job is the first step.”
Mrs. Cade clears her throat. “Honey, you seem like a smart boy. You should really look into school instead of another job. With a degree, your job opportunities will be much better.”
She’s using that voice she used to use on Sasha when she refused to pick a college our freshman year. Only, Elijah isn’t a grumpy fourteen-year-old whose rich parents are trying to get a head start. He’s twenty, and grown, and able to make his own decisions.
“I understand, totally —” Elijah begins, but Mr. Cade cuts him off with a wave of his hand. He and his wife exchange another cryptic look and she nods.
