The Rattled Bones(42)

“Disease. Childbirth.”

“Exactly. Their community was strong enough, vibrant enough, to attract immigrants from Europe. People who wanted to live life with freedom in their bones, no matter how much hard work that entailed. They endured hardships that would be unimaginable to us.” His gaze drops to the marker in the ground before me. “But they couldn’t survive greed. That’s what it came down to in the end.”

A gull calls from the shore, her throaty screech rising over the waves. The sounds Sam and I hear are no different from what islanders would have heard, the timeless call of the sea.

“Would you mind if I dug here too?” Sam asks.

I shift a few inches, make room for him at my side. “Have at it. You’re the only one who knows what they’re doing here.”

He elbows me, a soft push. “I’d say you’re doing just fine.”

“Rill?” The voice comes from behind us, and I turn.

“Reed?” It’s hard to make sense of him in this place. “You’re here?”

“Good to see you, too.” Reed’s eyes dart from mine to Sam’s.

Sam stands, gives Reed a short wave and a “Hey, man.”

“Can I talk to you, Rill?” Reed looks at Sam. “Alone.”

“Of course. Sure.” I brush dirt from my knees and follow him to the beach.

When we reach the shore, Reed faces me, the rush of the lapping ocean biting near his heels. There’s a heat coming off Reed that reminds me too much of his grandfather. “So yeah, I’m here. Mind telling me what the hell you’re doing out here?”

I take a step back, search his face. “What’s with all the aggression?”

Reed runs his fingers through his sunlit hair, and I watch it shimmer back into place. Such a contrast to the tightness of his face, the hard lines that make his mouth sour. “How should I feel about crashing whatever this is?” He throws an annoyed gesture toward the dig site. “How much time are you spending with this guy, Rill?”

“Sam. His name is Sam and he’s my sternman and we’re spending an appropriate amount of time together.”

“Appropriate? You two looked pretty tight.”

I cross my arms over my chest. Everything about Reed’s attitude feels too harsh, too angry. “Do you want to save us both time and get to whatever it is you’re actually accusing me of doing?”

He turns to the sea, the rainbow tips of lobster buoys speaking such an easy language, one we can’t conjure between us now. “I’m jealous, Rill. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, of course not. You have exactly zero reason to be jealous. I just needed . . .”

“Someone else.”

“No. You know it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

I see the sadness in his eyes now, the need. I see my Reed, the person I used to trust with all of my private things. I take a deep breath and then let most of the truth escape. “I feel like home and routine and expectations are crushing me. My dad is everywhere, but he’s not here anymore and there isn’t anything I can do about it and that crushes me too.”

He reaches for my hand. “I know.”

“Coming here is just different. Sam doesn’t know about my dad, so . . . I don’t know . . . I guess I get to step out of my grief for a little bit. I know it’s selfish, but I also know I need a little selfish right now.”

“I get it. It’s just . . . It’s messing with my head, Rill.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the pot.” I try a smile.

“No. Actually, it’s you being here with another dude. A dude I don’t even know.”

“Then get to know him. He’s nice. I need Sam’s help since my dad—”

“Fuck. I know. I’m a shit.” Reed rakes his hand through his hair again, lets out a shaky breath.

“You’re not a shit. You’re just jealous when there’s no need to be. Coming here is an escape, that’s all. It’s temporary.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You still love me?” Reed’s eyes plead.

“I still love you.”

“You’re my moon, Rill. I want to be the one to help you.”

“You can. You are. I just need a little space. Things are . . . complicated. You know.”

“With fishing?”

Fishing. School. Grams. The girl who wants me to find her, the one who may have reached out to my mother and plays with my sanity now. The girl who might have the deepest connection to Malaga. “Fishing’s part of it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“You know you can’t.” Our pact. No talking politics or fishing between us. I move my finger back and forth between our chests. “What we have wouldn’t survive if we mixed in business. We both know that.”

“Maybe.” He hugs me to him, kisses the top of my head, his lips warm. “I just miss you, Rill. We barely hang out anymore.”

I realize for the first time that I haven’t told Reed that I’m considering deferring college, maybe not leaving Gram at all. Why haven’t I told him? There is so much I haven’t told him. “I miss you too.”