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We pick up Kylie and Jasmine’s bag and head for the car. Once we’re situated and discussing a place for lunch, I automatically start driving toward Just Brew It. For the past two weeks, I’ve been stopping by every day I’m in town to see Indie.
So far, I’ve learned that she grew up in Boulder, her favorite movie is Silver Linings Playbook, she listens to Taylor Swift albums on repeat, and she loves Ben and Jerry’s ice cream—Caramel Chocolate Cheesecake and Pistachio Pistachio are her favorites. She doesn’t think she should be forced to choose just one.
Indie is cute as hell. Every time I walk into the coffee shop, she smiles at me. I’ve started looking forward to seeing her, even if it’s just for a few minutes.
“You guys like Mexican?” I ask Kylie.
“It’s still my favorite.”
“Uncle Pike?” Jasmine says from the back seat.
“Yeah?”
“I like tacos, but without lettuce and tomatoes and cream cheese.”
I look at her in the rearview mirror, wishing like hell Kylie would move here so I could be around her and Jasmine all the time. I may party hard, but nothing means as much to me as my family. Jasmine won’t accidentally call sour cream ‘cream cheese’ forever.
“No cream cheese for you, squirt,” I say.
“And no lettuce or tomatoes,” she says.
“Right. Just meat and cheese for you?”
“Yes.”
“Just make sure you save room, because we’re going to a coffee shop after we eat, and they’ve got cookies.”
Jasmine’s eyes light up. “I love cookies.” She pauses a beat. “And we’re going to see the lights tonight?”
Her favorite part of visiting me is cruising the Las Vegas Strip at night, so she can see everything all lit up. We always watch the fountain show outside the Bellagio, and then go to the M&M’s World Las Vegas store.
“We can go every night you’re here,” I tell her. “Well, except the night I have a game.”
At the Mexican restaurant, Jasmine throws down three tacos and Kylie and I both have fajitas. When she’s not chewing her food, Jasmine spends every second telling me how much harder first grade is than kindergarten.
“Uncle Pike, did you know my dad will never get better?” she says out of the blue as I’m waiting for the waitress to return my debit card.
I glance at Kylie, whose expression is both alarmed and apologetic. Damn, it hurts seeing two of the people I love most in the world hurting like this.
“Yes, I did know that, Jas,” I say softly. “But he’s not in any pain.”
“He can’t feel pain anymore,” she says matter-of-factly. “His brain is asleep and it won’t ever wake up.”
Fuck. It’s like a knife to my chest, hearing my eight-year-old niece make a comment like that. It sounds so disconnected, but who could blame her. She was just a baby when he was injured.
“You know what I remember?” I ask her.
“What?”
“I had a hockey game on the day you were born, but I came home the next day so I could meet you. Your mom was resting because it was hard work bringing you into the world, and when I walked into the hospital ward, your dad was sitting in a chair holding you. He was telling you that you were the most beautiful baby in the world.” I clear my throat, the memory making me emotional. “He stood up and brought you over to me, and he told me the day you were born was the happiest day of his life.”
Jasmine grins. “Mommy said he loved me more than anything.”
“He did. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“You have his eyes.”
“Grammy Joan said that, too.”
Steve and Joan are Eric’s parents. After his accident, they sold their home in Kansas City and moved to Florida. Kylie and Jasmine visit them for a week every summer, but Kylie tells me it’s usually awkward. They feel guilty for leaving their son behind in a nursing home, and also for leaving his widow and their granddaughter. It’s like they want Kylie to tell them it’s okay.
When the waitress returns with my receipt, I take it as my cue to change the subject. Eric’s injury is hard for me to think about, but seeing how it affects Kylie and Jasmine is almost more than I can handle without breaking down.
“Do you guys want to go get some fancy coffee and cookies?” I ask.
“Ugh, I’m too full,” Kylie says, shaking her head.
“I’m not!” Jasmine calls out, practically flying out of the booth.
Just Brew It is only a block away, so we walk there. When we get there, I open the door and scan the shop, looking for Indie. The last time I saw her, I didn’t get a chance to ask her when she was working again, so I don’t know if she’ll be here.
I hope she is, though. Seeing me with Jasmine is sure to score me some major points.
