A Thousand Letters(27)

It was a long time before I finally slowed to a normal place. We were out of sight of the streets, surrounded by rustling winter trees, their branches naked, their bones reaching up for the sun, so far away, hidden behind the clouds. And I felt as naked, as stripped and cold, reaching for the sun that had disappeared.

I came to a stop at the edge of the reservoir, watching the rippling surface of the water, the reflection of the sky and trees upside down.

We stood there for a long while, her presence irritating and unwanted. I wasn't allowed to feel what I felt, not with her there. I had to say something, but I had no room for pleasantries or pretense. So I gave her none.

"Why did you follow me?" I asked with my eyes on the water.

"I thought you could use a friend."

My jaw clenched. It wasn't untrue, but a friend who knew me would know I'd have preferred to be alone. Instead, I found myself in a position of some social requirement to fake it, to survive the conversation when I only wanted to be selfish, when I only wanted to grieve without concern for anyone else. It seemed like such a simple thing to ask, but there we were.

"I know you're not okay," she continued when I didn't speak, "but we don't have to talk about it." She paused, watching the water too. "I just want you to know I'm sorry, Wade, for what it's worth."

"People keep saying that, and I don't really understand what it means. It's empty, meaningless, something to say when there's nothing to say."

She didn't answer, just glanced down at her shoes, shifting on her feet.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, huffing a swear word.

"It's okay. You're right. I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. I'm sorry he's sick. I'm sorry this is happening to you and your sisters. But that doesn't make anything better."

"No, it doesn't." My eyes fixed on a far point of the pond. "I'm having a hard time pretending right now. I just wasn't looking for company."

"You don't have to explain yourself. I can go." She turned to do just that.

I breathed deep. "I'll go with you."

She placed her hand on my arm. "You don't have to do that, I'll be fine."

"I don't want you to walk back alone. It's getting dark."

"Really, Wade, you don't—"

"It's fine," I said sharper than I meant to. "I shouldn't have left anyway."

She nodded, and we began our walk back to the house, back to the truth and the fear.

"So," she started tentatively, "we brought more food for dinner, and Jeannie and I are going to get some groceries for you tomorrow. Just let me know if there's anything specific you need and we'll pick it up."

"Thank you." The temperature had dropped, taking my mood with it. "It seems like that's always the last thing to think about. Food. Something so basic, so essential, and I have no room to even consider it."

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat as we walked past a copse of trees, leaving the water behind us. "We're here to help with whatever you need. Should we, ah, plan for Elliot when we bring food?"

My jaw clenched. "Probably."

Lou nodded slowly. "Sure. And she's … Sophie's friend?"

"Her best friend."

"Oh."

I felt like I needed to explain her presence, and I didn't like the sensation. So I kept it as short as possible, hoping she would take the hint and leave it alone. "She and Dad are close — he's her mentor. She's been a part of the family for almost ten years."

Speaking about her felt too personal, too close to the edge of the chasm between us, and I backed away.

"This way." I gestured to a split in the path. "It's faster."

She rubbed her hands together and put them back in her pockets. "Good. It's a little colder than I'd realized," she said with a self-deprecating laugh.

I nodded, squeezing my numb fists in my pocket, not looking forward to facing them. Maybe if I'd had a chance to be alone, catch my breath. But as it stood I was only angrier, more unsure, more confused.

"Is there anything else we can do to help?" she asked. No hints would be taken from her.

I did consider the question, though, wondering if there was anything else I could delegate, but I couldn't think of anything. Not with my brain in the state it was in. "I don't think so."

"What will the next few days be like?"

"Dad's lawyer is coming tomorrow about the will, and we have to talk about the best way for him to give me the house to avoid us losing it to the taxes they'll place on it. A nurse will come three times a week and an aide every day to monitor him and his medication," I rattled off absently. "Otherwise, we're just …" Waiting. "… spending as much time with him as we can."

She nodded. "Any visitors planned?"

"Everyone's been calling, but I haven't had time to answer them all yet. It's on the list for tomorrow."

"You have to handle everything, don't you?"

"Yeah." The word was heavy from my lips and on my heart.

"It's a lot. I don't know how you're holding up as well as you are."