Page 166 of Just One More Thing

In the dark.

Without him hearing it.

Granny’s light shines from under her door. I knock once and push it open. She takes one look at me, at the jersey in my arms, and her face changes. “Tonight,” she says. Not a question.

“I have to, Granny.”

She is quiet for a long moment before she says, “Emory, I watched you find something again this summer.”

My chin quivers. I look down before the tears can fully fall. She looks at me with those eyes that have seen through me my whole life. “Don’t lose it again.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Story of my life.

I never have the right words when I need them. I get them later. In the car. In the dark. In the middle of the night when it’s too late to use them for anything but self punishment.

“Granny,” I whisper.

“I know.”

She opens her arms. I go to her. She holds me tight, and I put my face against her shoulder and cry. “I love you,” I say.

“I know that too.” Her hand moves slowly over my back. “Drive safe. Text me when you get there.”

I don’t avoid the stair that creaks. The same one that creaked when I was thirteen and sneaking out. The same one that creaked when I snuck out again this summer.

Outside, the night air hits my wet face. The water makes that same soft, steady sound it always does. Across the bay, I hear laughter.

Life keeps going. It doesn’t pause because you’re breaking your own heart. It just keeps moving.

I put the suitcase in the backseat. Then I get into the truck, putting Jake’s jersey in the seat beside me. I don’t start the engine right away. I sit there with both hands on the wheel.Listening to the watch tick against my wrist. I brush my thumb over the band. Then I look up.

The boathouse light is still on.

Still waiting.

Nothing in my life has ever felt this much like something I’m not supposed to leave.

And somehow I’m leaving it anyway.

I start the truck.

Shells pop under the tires as I pull out and turn onto the road.

In the rearview mirror, all I see is the pink striped inner tube.

The only sounds in the truck are my crying

and the tick

tick

tick

of the watch.

Like the mermaid’s heart beating for her prince.