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From the downstairs entry, the front door slammed. “Hellooo, Whitmores! Aunty Dazia is here.”
“Go,” Mom said. “Have fun with your friends. Who did you say you were hanging out with? I haven’t heard you mention Chance or Donte or any of the guys in a while.”
“I hung out with them last weekend.”
Cursory time spent with the guys to keep up appearances. Donte was hot and heavy with a new girlfriend, taking the pressure off me. But eating at the Burger Barn or walking the Boardwalk, listening to their inane talk instead of being with Holden was torture.
“No one special yet?” She smiled softly. “No pressure. I’m just…hopeful.”
I swallowed a lump and took a breath. Now was the time to tell her about Holden. What other time could there be?
“Well…”
“Hello, my loves!” Dazia said, breezing in. Her smile only faltered a little at the sight of Mom looking pale and wasted in the bed. I quickly stood up, and she took my face in both hands, kissed both my cheeks.
“River, you get more handsome every minute. The girls must be falling over themselves for you.”
I managed a smile. “Good to see you, Dazia. Thanks for coming.”
“You can’t keep me away.” She sat on the bed and touched Mom’s cheek. “How are we feeling, love. Not so hot?”
“Bye, Mom,” I said.
“Bye, honey,” Mom said. “Have fun tonight.”
I went out and sagged against the wall outside the bedroom doo
r. Keeping Mom’s promise felt impossible. My own grief was a chasm that if I fell into it, I’d keep falling and never come back out. I had to be strong. Not just for my dad and sister, but for myself. So I didn’t break apart into a million pieces.
At ten p.m., I drove to the Seabright neighborhood and parked alongside the Parish’s huge Craftsman. I came around to the side gate, then froze to see an elderly woman leaving the guesthouse. The woman patted Holden’s cheek, then turned and went back to the main house. Holden watched her go, then touched his fingers where her hand had been.
My heart swelled at the sight. Whoever that woman was, I loved her already.
Holden caught sight of me and waved. A few minutes later, he met me at my truck.
“Who was that?” I asked as he climbed into the cab. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
He gave me a pointed look. “Is this you being cute?”
“Yes,” I said with a small laugh and kissed him. “But for real, who was she?”
“Beatriz Alves. She’s my aunt and uncle’s caretaker, but…”
“She’s your friend.”
He nodded. “On the nights you ditch me to hang out with the Neanderthal Squad, we have movie night.”
“Does she know about me?”
“Yes.” Holden glanced at me with rare vulnerability in his eyes. “Sometimes things feel so good with you, it starts to feel surreal. I had to tell someone to make it more solid. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” I said quietly.
Our secrecy was wearing on him. Because of course it was. It was wearing on me too, breaking me down slowly, like the ocean taking more and more of the shore with every receding wave.
“Well?” Holden said, recovering his sarcastic tone. “Are we going to see a bunch of rocks fall from the sky or what?”
I drove up through the Pogonip Forest, up a winding road, higher and higher until the tree line broke. We parked at a clearing and I breathed thanks that no one else had the idea to come up here.
