I’ll Meet You There (37 page)

He caught me watching, and I laughed at his pretend grimace.

“Don’t quit your day job,” I shouted. He did some air guitar, thrashing his head around,
and I laughed. God, I was going to miss him.

He turned off the truck, and the Lab barked, like he somehow already knew he and Josh
belonged together. Josh leaned across the cab and looked down.

“What have you got there?” he asked.

“Come find out.”

I waited to let go of the leash until Josh came around the truck.

“Go get him,” I whispered to the Lab. He bounded up to Josh, tail going nuts. Josh’s
face broke open with this wide grin I hadn’t seen since before he deployed, and he
knelt and let the Lab sniff him and lick his fingers. He was laughing and letting
the dog jump all over him—it was the happiest I’d ever seen Josh.

“He likes you,” I said.

Josh looked up at me. “Did I tell you about Buddy—the bomb dog my unit had?”

I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Looks just like him.” He ran his hands down the Lab’s flanks, talking quietly to
him.

“Did one of the guests bring him?” he asked.

“Nope.” I walked over to him and put the leash in his hand. “I thought you might need
some company while I’m gone this semester.”

He looked at me, confusion turning to sudden understanding. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack,” I said, using my favorite Marge-ism. I couldn’t control the goofy
smile on my face. “I remembered what you said—about Buddy and the therapy dogs. I
didn’t expect to find a black Lab when I went to the shelter in Bakersfield, but he
was there, looking up at me like,
Can we go home already?
”

Josh gazed down at his dog, then at me. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You know that? You’re
fucking unbelievable.”

Then he was kissing me, and the dog was barking, and Dylan was catcalling, and it
was so great and so awful at the same time because I didn’t want to leave him or Dylan
or Marge or Mom or this dog who had already wormed his way into my heart.

I checked the time on the new cell phone I’d gotten to replace the one that had been
destroyed in the ditch. “I better go,” I said. “See you tonight?”

He brushed my lips with his. “Can’t wait.”

We hardly spent any time apart, nights included. I blushed at the thought of what
those two words—
can’t wait
—promised.

Josh wrapped his arms around me in a quick hug. “You gonna be okay over there?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Mom said Billy would be out all day, so I think it’ll be good.”

“Okay.” He looked like he was going to kiss me again, but pulled away when we heard
Dylan’s voice.

“
Hello!
Some of us want to see her before she goes,” she said.

Josh sighed. “Fine, but I get her back by seven.”

“Eight,” Dylan said, a hand on her hip.

“Seven thirty.”

“Fucking jarhead.” She gave him a grudging smile. “Fine. Seven thirty. But only because
it’s my little man’s bedtime.”

She whirled around and went back into the Paradise with Marge laughing behind her.
This was the nature of Dylan and Josh’s relationship—aggressive joking around. It
took her a few days to look at the whole Jenna Swenson thing in the way I’d decided
to look at it, but I think it made her feel better to inform him that if he ever pulled,
and I quote, any shit like that again, Dylan would personally castrate him with a
rusted butcher knife.

“I’m going to pretend that I wasn’t just auctioned off like a cow,” I said to Josh
once Dylan and Marge were back inside.

“It’s more like child custody than an auction,” he said.

“And now you’ve reduced me to a six-year-old. Sexy.”

He kissed my mock frown, the kind of kiss that made me really disappointed when he
pulled away. “Bet you’re glad I got that extra half hour now, huh? Just think of the
possibilities.”

I shoved his shoulder. “Dumbass.”

“I love you,” he said, somehow playful and serious at the same time.

This could be my life, I thought. Wake up next to Josh, do my own thing, know I’ll
see him later, then fall asleep and do it all over again the next day.

I kissed him—otherwise I’d tell him to start unpacking the car because I wasn’t going
after all. He’d insisted on driving me to San Francisco, even though we both knew
it’d be harder to say good-bye once we got there. It would be so easy …

The Lab whined and butted his head against us, and I pulled away. It felt like we
were already saying good-bye.

“Go play with your dog.”

Josh gave me a little salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

When I turned around, he slapped my ass, then laughed at my pretend scowl and pointed
at himself with an innocent shrug. “Jarhead. What did you expect?”

I rolled my eyes and left him to do whatever stuff Marge needed before we left for
San Francisco in the morning.

When I went back inside, Marge was back at the desk and I could hear Dylan at the
end of the hall, changing Sean’s diaper in the bathroom.

Marge gave me a long look. “You did it, you know.”

“What?”

“The right thing.”

I looked out the window, at Josh wrestling with the dog. It was horrible, just imagining
what I’d be feeling right now if I hadn’t gone looking for Josh at the train tracks.
No matter what hell we’d have to go through in the future with everything life would
throw at us, it was worth it. I knew it was.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I did.”

I put my arm around her shoulder. “I know Josh will never be … I mean, no one can
replace your son. But you’re family to him. And to me. I hope you know that, Marge.”

She held on to my hand and nodded. “I do, sweet pea.”

Together, we looked at the collage lying on the table. Josh would put it up for her
later that day, I was sure, and then there’d always be a little part of me at the
Paradise. It was bittersweet, the idea of the collage being there when I wasn’t. I
was finally putting down roots, just when I was getting ready to leave.

JOSH

It’s been almost a year since we walked onto that field. But I won’t let that be my
last memory of you. Instead, this is what I see: It’s the first real day of spring
and we’re patrolling on foot and the mountains surround us, giant and snowcapped,
and you turn around in a circle with this huge fuckin’ smile on your face and you
shout,
Look at this beautiful world!
And then I take the picture that’s sitting on my desk right now. That’s what I’m
gonna think of from now on, every day, when I see that smile on your face.
Look at this beautiful world.

Ma’a salama
, brother. See you on the other side.

chapter thirty-four

Dylan dropped me off at the trailer, after making me promise I’d come to her house
for some ice cream and, as she put it, “lady time” before I went back to the Paradise.
The car my mom and I shared was in the driveway, newly fixed by Blake and Josh. She
was using it until she left, and then Josh was going to drive it up for me if I wanted
it at school.

For a minute, I just stood outside, staring at the faded paint and the dry grass.
I’d spent my entire life in that trailer, with the exception of the last month at
the Paradise, but I knew my separation was complete when I realized that I was a visitor
now and would probably be one wherever my mom lived, for the rest of my life. I tried
to imagine another family moving in. It hurt.

I remembered sitting on the front steps with my dad, looking at the stars, or running
through the sprinklers with Dylan and Chris from June to October. I’d had my first
kiss in front of the rusted barbecue—Aaron Fisher, eighth grade. I smiled, thinking
about the pumpkins my mom and I used to carve and then line up in a row leading to
our door on Halloween or the Christmas lights Dad would string up. I thought of all
the summer evenings I’d spent sitting in the chairs under the trees beside the trailer,
reading books that helped me escape Creek View, at least for a little while. Magical
kingdoms, Russian love triangles, and the March sisters couldn’t have been further
away from the trailer park.

I heard the clank of pots inside—the kitchen window was open, and Mom must have been
washing dishes. I walked up the stairs and, for the first time in my life, knocked
on the door. I heard her turn down the TV and then the door was open.

My mom beamed. “Sky!”

She wrapped me in a hug, still smelling like her apple-scented shampoo. I breathed
her in, missing her even though my arms were around her. She sat me down at the kitchen
table and fluttered about—was I thirsty? Hungry?

While Mom got me a glass of water, I looked around. She’d cleaned. I could smell the
Windex and Pine-Sol, but I wasn’t sure if it was just for my benefit or if she and
Billy were actually capable of playing house together. Even though nearly everything
was boxed up, there were a few things that announced Billy’s presence—a leather La-Z-Boy,
man-sized work boots by the door, a toolbox.

Seeing Billy’s things in the house, as if they belonged there—and I supposed they
did, now—made it seem like Dad was finally and truly gone. It was another change the
summer had brought to my life, a gradual letting go of the need to remember him all
the time, to strain for his presence. I didn’t know if that was Josh or just growing
up.

Mom seemed to know what I was thinking. “You know, I still love your dad,” she said.

I nodded. “Yeah, I know.” I thought about the thrill I got from seeing Josh’s clothes
strung about my room or his toothbrush standing in the plastic cup by my sink, leaning
against mine. I wondered if Mom felt that way about Billy.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

She made little circles with her finger on the tabletop, a soft smile playing on her
face.

“I am.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. “I know I put you through hell, and I’m
real sorry about that. I never wanted things to be … the way they got.”

I held her hand in both of my own. “I know.”

Mom laughed her smoker’s laugh. “Seems like you’ve got yourself a boyfriend too.”
She pointed to my neck. “Those his dog tags?”

I fingered the thin metal chain under my shirt and nodded. He’d given them to me the
night before, placing them over my neck. Other than Nick’s chess set and Vonnegut
book I was pretty sure they were Josh’s most prized possession.

“Hon,” she continued, “if you don’t mind me asking … isn’t it sort of hard being with
a guy like that?”

I tried not to bristle at the “like that”—it sucked how everyone wanted to give Josh
labels instead of just accepting him as he was.

“No,” I said. “He’s just … Josh. You know?”

I wasn’t being entirely honest, but I had begun to guard Josh’s privacy even more
than my own. I wasn’t going to tell her about the nightmares he still sometimes got—although
he told me he’d been having them a lot less since we got together. And I didn’t want
to get into how I’d had to find ways to adjust to the days when he just needed to
be alone or how he’d get depressed or really pissed off about his leg or something
that reminded him of Nick. Sometimes I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around
him, but usually I just tried to be real and blunt and loving. That worked most of
the time. He did the same for me.

Mom gave me a long look. “He’s the real deal for you, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She nodded, her eyes softening. “I felt that way about your dad. It’s a good sign.”

For the next few hours we talked, pulling out our memories like forgotten photo albums.
It felt good to be with her and to see her sober and herself again. The blank look
was gone from her face, and her eyes were clear and alive. It was more than I’d hoped
for, and whatever I thought about Billy, I was thankful he seemed to be taking care
of her. It was hard to admit, but I was happier now than I’d been in a long time.
Years. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d taken on with my mom until I backed away.
It felt good to worry about myself for once.

The sun went down, and the shadows began to yawn and stretch across the thin carpet.
My last night in Creek View had begun. I couldn’t eat much of the dinner Mom tried
to give me—I was too wound up about everything. I remembered Chris being like that
on his last night too. I’d been frustrated that he was so distracted, but now I understood.
It was a lot to process. Getting what you’ve always wanted, after wanting it for so
long that the wanting was imprinted on your very being—it was too much.

By the time I got back to the Paradise, my eyes were puffy and red from saying good-bye
to my mom and Dylan. I was exhausted, but anxious to see Josh and milk as much time
as I could out of the hours that remained for us. I walked in through the back gate
and was halfway to my room when I saw him standing on top of the flat roof that covered
the bank of guest rooms. His back was to me, and he was looking over the orchard,
his arms crossed, toward the mountains that towered over the valley. It was still
a little light outside, the sky a purplish gray, but there was already a sliver of
moon and a handful of stars. A warm breeze made music out of the leaves in the orchard
and—so faint I almost thought I’d imagined it—a train whistle blew.

I walked to the ladder Josh had propped up against the building and climbed it slowly,
one hand over the other. The wind muffled my ascent so that when I got to the top,
he still hadn’t turned around. For a moment I just stood there, watching him. It was
easy to imagine he was a general surveying a conquered land. Back straight, legs spread
slightly apart, he looked down on the flat fields, the winding creek, and over the
highway that was an endless black river slicing through all of it. The red and white
lights from the cars sparkled in a friendly sort of way, giving us conspiratorial
winks as they passed by. He stood over it all, watching. Waiting.