Point of Retreat(85)

Or what she smells like

Or what she sounds like



And my Dad



I remember more things about him, but only because I thought he was the most amazing man in the world.

He was smart. He knew the answer to everything.

And he was strong.

And he played the guitar.

I used to love lying in bed at night, listening to the music coming from the living room.

I miss that the most.

His music.



After they died, I went to live with my grandma and grandpaul.

Don’t get me wrong…I love my grandparents.

But I loved my home even more.

It reminded me of them.

Of my mom and dad.



My brother had just started college the year they died.

He knew how much I wanted to be home.

He knew how much it meant to me,

so he made it happen.

I was only seven at the time, so I let him do it.

I let him give up his entire life just so I could be home.

Just so I wouldn’t be so sad.

If I could do it all over again, I would have never let him take me.

He deserved a shot, too. A shot at being young.

But sometimes when you’re seven, the world isn’t in 3-D.



So,

I owe a lot to my brother.

A lot of ‘thank you’s’



A lot of ‘I’m sorry’s’



A lot of ‘I love you’s’



I owe a lot to you, Will



For making the sucks in my life a little less suckier



And my sweet?

My sweet is right now.



I wonder if a person can cry too much? If so, I’m definitely reaching my quota this month. I stand up and make my way past Sherry and David and out into the aisle. When Caulder walks down the steps to the stage, I pick him up and give him the biggest damn hug I’ve ever given him.

“I love you, Caulder.”

***

We don’t stay for the awards. The kids are excited to be spending the evening with Sherry and David, so they were all in a hurry to leave. Kiersten and Caulder didn’t seem to care who won, which made me a little proud. After all, I’ve been drilling Allan Wolf’s quote into Kiersten’s head every time I give her advice about poetry. “The points are not the point; the point is poetry.”



After David and Sherry drive away with the boys, Lake and I walk to the car and I open the door for her.

“Where are we eating? I’m hungry,” she says.

I don’t answer her. I shut her door and walk around to the driver’s side. I reach into the backseat and grab two sacks out of the floorboard and hand one to her. “We don’t have time to stop and eat. I made us grilled cheese.”



She grins when she opens her sack and pulls out her sandwich and soda. I can tell by the look on her face that she remembers. I was hoping she would remember.

“We have a pretty long drive,” I say. “I know a game we can play, it’s called ‘would you rather.’ Have you ever played it before?”



She smiles at me and nods. “Just once, with this really hot guy. But it was a long time ago. Maybe you should go first to refresh my memory.”



“Okay. But first, there’s something I need to do.” I open my console and pull out the blindfold. “Our destination is sort of a surprise, so I need you to put this on.”



“You’re blindfolding me? Seriously?” She rolls her eyes and leans forward.

I wrap it around her head and adjust it over her eyes. “There. Don’t peek.” I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot, then ask the first question. “Okay. Would you rather I looked like Hugh Jackman or George Clooney?”



“Johnny Depp,” she says.

She answers a little too fast for my comfort. “What the hell, Lake? You’re supposed to say Will! You’re supposed to say you want me to look like me!”



“But you weren’t one of the options,” she says.

“Neither was Johnny Depp!”



She laughs. “My turn. Would you rather have constant, uncontrollable belching or would you rather have to bark every time you heard the word the?”