The Lucky Ones(104)

“Stay here,” Deacon said.

“What?” Allison said.

“Just stay. I’ll be right back. One more tribute to Dad.”

Deacon ran across the sand and into the house. He emerged a few minutes later with a slim box in his hand. He held it up and it rattled when he shook it.

“Sparklers,” he said. “And my phone. Picture time.”

“This is ridiculous,” Allison said. “It’s October.”

“Then they’re Halloween sparklers,” Deacon said. “Come on. It would make Dad happy.”

Deacon pulled a lighter out of his hoodie pouch as Thora distributed the sparklers. With a flick of his thumb, Deacon set a flame to blazing and the four of them brought the tips of their sparklers together until they were all brightly dancing in the twilight. The ocean breeze threatened to blow them out so they turned their backs to the beach and huddled together.

“Ready?” Deacon said as he held out his phone to take the picture.

“Not yet,” Roland said. “We have to do this right. And it won’t be easy. Allison doesn’t weigh sixty pounds anymore.”

“I weigh sixty-mumble,” Allison said. She held her sparkler in her right hand. Roland held his in his left. Then with his strong right arm he hoisted her up, holding her against him, her legs wrapped around his waist. It was so awkward, so ludicrous and precarious, she started to laugh at the absurd pose of a grown woman being held like a child on the hip of a grown man. And that was the picture the camera captured, her openmouthed laugh, Roland’s somewhat pained grin, Thora rolling her eyes at them in adoring disgust and Deacon sticking his tongue out because that’s what Deacon did.

Roland set her down hard and she ended up falling onto her back in the sand. She stuck her sparkler in the sand to put it out and lay back.

“What are you doing down there?” Roland asked.

“Making sand angels,” she said, waving her arms.

“That’s not a thing,” Roland said.

“It is now.” Allison wallowed in the sand a moment longer, to get Roland to smile for her just once. And what a smile it was. A kind and loving smile. A good man’s smile.

Roland held out a hand and she took it. He pulled her up and onto her feet.

“See?” she said, pointing at the shape her body had left in the sand.

“Goddamn,” Roland said. “It is a sand angel.”

“You shouldn’t swear like that. You’re still a monk, right?” Deacon asked.

“I am for now,” he said. “I’d have to tell them I was leaving if...”

“Are you?” Thora asked. “Please?”

Allison tensed. Roland glanced at her as if waiting for her to speak up and answer the question for him. But she couldn’t.

“We’ll see,” Roland said.

“What about you, sis?” Deacon asked. “You staying? Please?”

Allison glanced at Roland. He could no more answer the question than she could. She looked at Deacon and she looked at Thora. Up in her bedroom window, Brien sat perched looking down at his silly humans playing in what he must have thought of as the largest litter box in creation.

“We’ll see.”

They drifted back to the house and found a large white box on the porch. Roland took it inside and set it on the dining room table. It was addressed simply to “The Capellos” and they all gathered around as Roland opened it.

Inside were flowers. Dozens of flowers, all white. Roses, lilies, monte casino and carnations, but it was mostly one flower Allison didn’t recognize.

“What are those?” she asked.

Thora grinned. “Snapdragons. Very fitting.”

“Who are they from?” Deacon asked.

“I can guess,” Allison said.

“You guessed right,” Roland said. He opened the card, which contained a one-hundred-dollar bill, and read it aloud.

“I lost a part of myself the day I lost my father. Luckily I found it again when I looked in the eyes of my children. Your father lives on in the love you all have for each other. Thank you for taking good care of Allison.

My deepest condolences,

Cooper McQueen.

P.S. Use the hundred to buy bourbon—Bulleit Barrel Strength if you can find it. It’s what we call ‘drowning your sorrows’ bourbon.”

No one spoke at first. Allison blushed a little as Roland put the card back in the envelope.

“Flowers and booze money?” Deacon said, nosing through the massive bouquet. “You must be a fantastic lay, sis.”

“Deacon, I swear to God,” Thora said.

“He’s not wrong,” Roland said. Allison elbowed him in the ribs.

“I’ll take these,” Thora said. “They’re going on the mantel out of the way of Brien’s reach.”

“What about the booze money?” Deacon asked.

“I’m keeping that out of your reach,” she said.

Thora walked away with the flowers, scolding Deacon all the while and leaving Allison and Roland alone in the dining room.

“That was nice of him,” Roland said. She didn’t argue—it was very nice of McQueen. She hadn’t told him anything about what she’d learned other than that Dr. Capello had died and she was certain now she was safe. He hadn’t pressed her for more. She had a good feeling these flowers would be the last time she heard from him. And that was okay. It really was.