Left Drowning(51)

“Some,” he concedes, “but not all.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure many people would consider my father a hero, but—”

“But not you,” I finish for him.

“No. Never me. And that, Blythe,” he says without taking his eyes off the road, “is reality. What is also reality is that I don’t have to see him again. I can make that choice.”

“What does your father do?”

“He’s an artist. All sorts of mediums. Sculpture, painting, you name it. The house was always filled with materials. Paint, plaster, sheets of metal. Wire. Lots of copper wire.”

Chris tightens his grip on my hand. I turn to face him and rest my leg on the cushioned bench seat. “What about winter break? If you don’t go home, what do you do? Thanksgiving is one thing, but you can’t stay on campus over winter break.”

He checks the backseat quickly and then says in a low voice, “Hawaii. But don’t tell anyone. They don’t know. It’s our new family tradition to go away for the month. Last year I rented us a place in Huntington Beach. I don’t tell them where we’re going until we get to the airport.”

“Oh my God, I love it. You guys are going to have a blast. Sounds kind of expensive, though.”

“I … I have access to money. My mother had money. A substantial amount. And her will, unbeknownst to my father, left all of her money to her children. I’m in charge of the trust.” He pauses. “What about you? What are your plans for break?”

“Just me and James. This year we’re going to the house we grew up in, not my aunt’s like we always used to. Kind of the first time we’ll be there in a long time. It’s going to be … weird.”

There is a deep roaring grumble from the backseat. “Where is my ginormous TV? Where is it? I need me some big plasma love.”

I smile. Sabin is awake. “We’ll be there soon.”

“HERE WE COME, STORE OF THE GIANT TVS!” he screams, planting a hand on top of Chris’s head and then mine and ruffling our hair. He leaves one hand resting on Chris’s shoulder as he sits back. “It’s a good day, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Chris and I say.

When we get to the mall, we fight our way through the crowd of frenzied shoppers to reach the department store. Sabin disappears into the mob while Chris and I spend twenty minutes assessing the television options.

“Which one do you like?” Chris asks.

“The black one with the big screen.”

He slaps my arm. “You’ve narrowed it down to twenty.”

“Oh, I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” I look around at the array of sets. “It just needs to work.”

“That’s an excellent quality to look for in a TV.”

Now I slap his arm. “You pick. Don’t zero out my bank account, but pick the most awesome one, or there’s going to be hell to pay. I’m going to check on Sabin.”

I locate him, not surprisingly, in the small appliance section. When he sees me coming, he joyfully holds up a box and yells, “See? I told ya! Coffee, toast, eggs, and bacon! All at once! It’s a miracle!”

I laugh. “I’m very glad you found what your heart desires. Let this be my gift to you because I could never pick out such a lovely, er”—I look at the box again —“baby-blue gadget.”

“It’s not a gadget. It’s a ‘breakfast station’,” he corrects me.

“I would love to buy you this breakfast station.”

“Fine. But in return, I’m buying you some DVDs to go along with your new television.” He puts his hand on my back and guides me to the movie section. “Let’s see … We’ll start with Blue Crush.” Sabin starts piling discs into his arms. “And then 50 First Dates. Oooooh! Lilo & Stitch! How about Pearl Harbor?” He waves the movie at me and winks.

“Kind of a random selection.” I stare at the movie until it clicks. It’s not a random selection at all. All of those movies have one thing in common. Hawaii. “Oh, God damn it, you were awake in the car, weren’t you?”

Sabin starts to dance idiotically in the aisle. “We’re goin’ to Hawaii! Oh yes, we are! Gonna be some hula girls and some mahi-mahi dinners! Swimming and snorkeling—”

“Shhhh! Stop it! You’re not supposed to know!” I look around to make sure Chris isn’t nearby. “Don’t tell him you heard anything, okay? He’s really excited to surprise you.”

“Okay, okay. I promise. Not a word.” He turns serious for a minute. “I do have some words for you, though.”

I frown. “Shoot.”

“Chris is smart, but he doesn’t know everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, Blythe, last night you told me to let Estelle have her God, to believe in what she needed to.” He sighs. “You have to do the same. If you believe in …” He looks around the chaotic store and starts over. “I didn’t hear the whole story, but I don’t have to know details to realize that you’ve been through some shit, and you have every right to hold tight to whatever gets you through the night. Know what I mean, sugar? Maybe you believe that coincidences aren’t coincidences. Maybe you have your own version of a higher power, or you trust in the belief that there are connections among seemingly disconnected parts of the universe. Maybe you have a spiritual side that has nothing to do with God or religion, it’s just your own.”