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My dad kept the extent of how MS affected his life on the down-low. Some of it was pride, but a lot was privacy. In turn, I wasn’t blasting his condition to the world. Mo was the only one I talked to about it, and even then, I’d never gone into how bad it sometimes got. I knew Mo would keep it to himself, but I guess I was superstitious, like if I gave voice to my deepest concerns, they’d come true.
He shook his head. “Can’t believe he’s living here and I still haven’t seen him. The man has turned into a recluse with age.”
“He’s movin’ and shakin’ with all the muckety-mucks.” I cocked my head. “That sounded business-y, right?”
“Oh yeah, real legit.”
Still laughing, I shifted in my seat. “For real, he’s busy. He’s got his clothing company, the video game thing, a podcast...honestly, he’s worse than you. Brian Murray is still very much the shit in a lot of circles.”
He laid his hand on his chest. “Your dad will always be the shit to me. When you get back from this ill-fated trip with my sister, I’m going to force my company on him.”
“He’d like that. You’ll probably have to bring the girl-child along with you. Maybe the wife too.”
He grinned. “It’s cool, I get it. I’m a lot more interesting now that I’ve got two pretty girls by my side. Hell, I find myself more interesting.”
I wasn’t lying about my dad being thrilled to see Mo, but any plans I made were dependent on how my dad was doing. Sure, he seemed to be on an upswing, but this disease was tricky. It was hard to say what triggered his flare-ups or how long they’d last. As shitty as it was, if he got bogged down by pain or needed a cane or walker to get around, he wouldn’t want Mo and Michaela to witness that.
After breakfast, Mo went his way—to his wife and daughter—and I went mine—to my favorite office plaza to get some riding in. I rarely saw other skaters here, but as I approached, the telltale sounds of wheels rolling over the bumpy pavers reached my ears.
Yael was in my spot, skateboarding with the gear I’d bought her. I stood back, my board gripped in my hands as she wove her way around the plaza. From her long, steady form, it was clear this wasn’t her first time out here on her own. Not like she’d be joining me in the bowl anytime soon, but she no longer looked like a baby colt trying to find her feet. Since she just got her board a couple days ago, I bet she’d been practicing on the one I had loaned her.
Damn sexy is what it was.
When she got close to where I stood, she did a double take, which caused her to stumble, and I was there to catch her.
“Whoa there.” Air shot out of me as she collided with my chest.
“I’m not a horse, Alex.” She pushed off me and reached up to straighten her helmet. “Mo let you live?”
“So far.” I threw my board down beside hers, propping one foot on it. “He challenged me to a duel, but I said I had too much to do, so we rescheduled for a later date. I plan on rescheduling until we’re both on our deathbeds, then I’ll let him have the win so he can die in peace.”
She wiped the pretend sweat from her brow. “Phew. I was worried the both of you would go overboard defending my non-existent honor.”
“You’re plenty honorable. Don’t sell yourself short.” I tucked my hands in my jeans pockets. “And most of all, don’t listen to other people, even if it’s your own brother.”
She blinked at me, her big brown eyes half-filled with mischief—the other half wasn’t quite clear. “Why? You don’t believe I’ll ruin you?”
“Nah, I know you can, but I don’t think you will.” I clapped my hands together, brushing this conversation away. I didn’t particularly like the direction it seemed to be going. “It’s all fake, baby. Can’t be ruined by something that’s not real.”
She nodded and turned away to watch her foot move her board forward and back. “You know, Moses has warned me not to ruin you before.”
Before I could question her, Yael pushed off on her skateboard, beginning to repeat her circle around the plaza. I followed, catching up to her in seconds.
“Dropping bombs again, Cool Girl?”
She kept her eyes focused ahead, concentrating on the direction she traveled. It did something to me to watch Yael give her all to one of the things I loved most in the world—the thing I regularly gave my all to.
“It was that night,” she finally said.
“Which night?”
Her eyes slid to mine for a moment before shifting back to face her path. “You know which night, Alex.”
“Nah, you’re going to have to tell me.” I knew which night. It was the night we never talked about. The night I’d pushed so far back into the recesses of my mind, I wasn’t sure if it ever really happened or was a vague fragment of some dream I once had.
Yael hummed loud, skating her little heart out while ignoring me. No surprise there. I would have reached out to grab her and force her to tell me, but she was still shaky enough, I’d probably wind up hurting her. So, I veered off to the short set of steps along the side of the plaza, doing jumps and turns while Yael kept on her circular path.
Eventually, she skated over and sat down on a bench, watching me. I wasn’t ready to ask again, and she seemed in no rush to speak. I wondered why she’d said anything at all.
