Page 84 of Letting Go

I'm not sure lighter fluid, matches, and flames constitutes a good environment to manage Cory and his sudden temper.

"I can help," says Cory and he scrambles up and starts opening the pantry.

"I've got everything we need outside already, bud."

I must have looked worried because Bryce gives me another kiss and a little nod. "He'll be fine."

I watch through the kitchen window as I wash Mom's little jars for the treasure hunt. Bryce has a nice brush pile set up and is dousing it with fluid. First, he squirts, then Cory takes a turn. Out come the long wooden matches. He lights one and passes it to Cory who tries to wave it around like a sparkler. Bryce leans over and says something to him which makes him stop. Very seriously, Cory drops the burning match on the pile.

It’s instant ignition. Cory is thrilled, and suddenly he's dancing around the fire, stomping up and down and flicking his wrists fast.

Bryce collects the can of lighter fluid and the matches, leaves Cory to his fire, and steps back into the kitchen.

"Okay. So, these need to go on a higher shelf." He hands them to me. "The kid's a pyro."

He touches my face and looks out the window at Cory. "You know, I see a lot of me in him."

"Really?"

"Really. He just needs something to do. Give him a job, and he's happy. Jesus, look at him."

Cory is arching his back and throwing his head up, mouth open, and we can hear his high wolf-cries even in here.

Half an hour later, it’s time for me to do my thing. There are five other children, besides Cory ready to do the treasure hunt. Four little girls and a boy, from about three to six, ranging from overly bundled to shorts and a pullover. My only frustration is a missing bottle, so only eleven are hidden. I'll look for the missing one when they are all out hunting as well.

They gather around me by the fire. I tell a story of a misfit elf who longed for her family and had a pet butterfly who took her to all the islands. The tiny elf collected treasures from each island and brought them back for children. Their task is to find them all.

I release them and they scatter like seeds in the wind. I know they'll find them faster now that the sun still hasn’t set. Right after Christmas, it got dark at four-thirty, but right now it's just heading toward sunset and the sky is pink.

Bryce is talking to several other people down by the shore and I wave. He waves back and starts peeling off his clothes. His body is perfect. I am so damn lucky. My God. He shakes his arms out, blows on his hands, and then three other people start trailing him into the water.

I start my search for the missing bottle, scanning all the places I usually hide them. No luck. Cory finds a few and offers the bottles to the other children. He's learning to give, but they don’t understand this gesture from a kid who won’t speak to them. They take the bottles silently, soberly, however. This is his lesson in transactions. I smile. He's good at it.

A glance at the beach shows no Bryce yet, so I keep searching for the missing bottle. Another five minutes go by. Nothing. No bottle, no Bryce.

Now, I'm worried. The fire burns, Finn is grilling. Jackson and Mateus sit around the fire, chatting up three of the young women staying with us. Nic's back in Boston.

I walk down to the shore. Two of the men and the woman who followed him in, are back. The ocean is loud today, the wind strong and white caps are everywhere. The sun sinks further, and red ribbons stretch along the horizon. I strain to see him in the froth.

Nothing.

For the first time in months, fear flares.

Laurel's home and comes striding down to the beach in my direction, Cory holds her hand. Behind them, the bright party lights along the back porch flicker on.

"Everything okay? I heard talk someone's missing."

"It's Bryce. He hasn’t come back in."

"He's an ex-Seal."

All I can think of is his nicked artery. That maybe it opened, burst. The surgeon warned him it could happen in the first year.

"Seriously. He's fine. Trust me."

"I know. I just—"

"Oh," says Cory. "This treasure's for you." He holds out a bottle.