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We drove to his place first, collecting Parrish’s supplies, packing food, drinks, and shit like that. Afterward we went to mine so I could pack up too. When I went into the house with a backpack, I found Grandma working on one of her puzzles.
She frowned. “You going somewhere?”
Shit. Did she think I was going to bail on her? That I was skipping town? “I’m going camping with Parrish. We’ll be close. If you need anything, call me, and I’ll come right back.” Now her frown turned into a smile. “It’s not a thing, Grandma.”
“I didn’t say it was. Do you need food? Drinks? I can give you some money to pick some things up.”
I shook my head. “We got it. We’re grown men. We can get our own supplies.” The thing was, before I got locked away, when I was friends with Rex, I would have taken her up on her offer. I would have probably let her give me money and would have done shitty things with it. I hated myself for whom I’d been, for the mistakes I made. How did she love me so much? “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything. Who I was. I know I’m not much better now, but—”
“You shut your mouth right now, Riven McKenna. Stop putting yourself down. You’re better than you give yourself credit for.”
I nodded even though I didn’t believe her, then gave her a hug, holding on for longer than usual, kissed her temple, and left.
*
It was beautiful up here. This was one of the only things I loved about living in Southern Oregon. There was beauty everywhere you looked. We were only about forty-five minutes from home, but we were in a secluded area, no one around us for miles, a lake a short walk away.
We hadn’t left until late, so once we arrived, we set up our tent and got going the small grill Parrish had brought so we could make dinner.
We made burgers before sitting in camp chairs and eating, nature around us, the sounds of squirrels and other small animals scurrying through leaves.
I was there because of him, and wanted to thank him for that, but I didn’t exactly know how.
“There’s not much that’s better than this,” Parrish said, and took a swig of his beer.
Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had one. My bottle sat beside me, but I hadn’t drunk any of it yet, didn’t even know if I wanted to. Part of me wanted to get that back. There was nothing wrong with relaxing at the end of a hard day with a cold beer, but I’d also used to drink a lot, and back then if I wasn’t drinking, I was doing drugs, usually both. I’d struggled getting clean in prison, and going down that road again wasn’t something I wanted to do.
“You’re being quiet.”
“I’m always quiet,” I told him.
Parrish nodded in agreement. “You speak up when something matters, though.”
“Yeah, right.” Was he crazy? How many of the bad things from the past wouldn’t have happened if I’d just opened my mouth?
“Tell me something good, Riv. I want to hear about a time you were happy.”
Right now was the first thought that drifted through my head, the truth of those two words nearly knocking me out of my chair. I wasn’t happy, not really, but I was as close to it as I ever remembered being. Or maybe content was the right word, though that didn’t totally fit either. Emotions were fucked up and confusing and didn’t always make sense.
“I can’t think of anything. Jesus. Why do you gotta ask dumb questions?”
He chuckled. “It’s not a dumb question, you jackass. It’s a sweet one.”
Not for the first time, he made me roll my eyes. “Now you’re sweet, huh?”
“I’ve always been sweet for the right person. That doesn’t mean I can’t be a real dickhead too.”
He wasn’t. Or if he was, it was always for a good reason.
“Tell me about a time you were happy,” Parrish said again, making it obvious he wasn’t going to let this go.
I pushed my ball cap up so it sat higher on my head and scratched. “I don’t know, man.” But then something came to me. It was so silly, so ridiculous, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to mention it.
“What is it? You have something. I can tell.” He kicked my chair, so I leaned over and punched his leg. “Ouch, you bastard.”
“You started it.”
He gave me a pleading look, the flames of the campfire dancing in his eyes, luring me in.
“Hell, I guess it would be this one time on my grandma’s birthday. I think I was about fifteen. I wanted her to have a special day. I told Rex I couldn’t do shit, but I didn’t tell him why. I got up early and made her breakfast. It felt like something a little kid would do, but I’d realized I’d never even made her breakfast before.” Fifteen years old and had never woken my grandma, the person who raised me, with food? I’d been a dick.
