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I looked down at the table in confusion. “I thought you didn’t remember him. When we were at the lake house, you didn’t.” I thought back to that moment when Dexter’s eyes looked over the picture without an ounce of recognition. It made me internally question Ralph because the three of them had been so close. I thought Ralph would have at least told Dexter about Greg.
And, after all, it was the accident between those two friends that landed Dexter with amnesia. But I didn’t say anything, because when I saw the picture, I felt my own internal questioning.
There was something missing. Something about his picture made me sad and I’d hardly known Greg. But it felt like I had.
“Long story,” Dexter supplied. “But I ended up remembering him.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Just him.”
There was a lull at the table and Ralph lifted his glass. “Merry Christmas, Greg.”
Everyone followed suit, and I held my glass of water with shaking hands. “Merry Christmas,” I whispered. All the lights dimmed, and in my ear, I heard a young man’s voice.
I love you.
I blinked, the lights coming back to me.
Dexter frowned as he examined me. “Everything okay?”
“Sure, yeah. Sometimes I space out. It’s fine.” I didn’t want to worry him. Over the years, that voice came and went. At first, I was worried. But when I was thinking of Dexter, it was sure to happen. I was imagining the words, but even as I heard them, I knew it wasn’t Dexter saying them. And yet, no other man had ever told me they loved me other than him. Not even Tim.
Tracey stood and began clearing the table and we all joined her, despite her insistence that we stay seated.
When the table was cleaned, Dexter pulled me off to the side. “Did you want to see your mother? I called down to police headquarters, and you’ll need to identify your brother. I figured it would be better for you if we waited for that.”
“No, no. I, uh, I’ll identify Tim.” I moved past him toward the stairs and then walked back to him. “Could you come with me? I know it’s a lot to ask—”
“I’d ask the same of you.”
I looked at him. This time, I wanted to say exactly what I was thinking. “It’s almost sickening, how great you’re being. I’m torn between wanting to lick you and wanting to kick you.”
He laughed for so long that I looked around at everyone, smiling at their idiotic grins.
“There you are,” he said as he kissed my cheek sloppily. “I knew you were in there, Blue.”
I was. I just had to let myselfbemyself.
* * *
Identifying Tim was difficult.A lot of him was unrecognizable. It was the tattoo on his bicep that ended up being the confirmation for me.
Tim had suffered in life and in death and I cried for him. I didn’t even try to hide my face as I cried because Tim deserved all the ugly, sloppy tears I could give. A man no one knew. A man who wouldn’t live a full life, wouldn’t have children, wouldn’t change the world.
Dexter stood back the entire time, in that quiet way of his. I always knew he was there; it was impossible to share a space with him and not acknowledge the fact that we were existing together.
When it was time to leave the police station, the officer on the case insisting I visit the hospital, Dexter wrapped me in his arms as we braved the snow to reach the rental. Once inside, he asked me where I wanted to go next.
“Take me to my old place,” I said.
He started the car, letting it warm up while he toyed with my cold fingers.
I leaned my head back and watched him, so sure of himself, of what he wanted. What he wanted was me. The thought used to be like a bucket of ice water to my heart. Only, I’d been the one controlling the bucket, I realized. Now, it was like warmth seeping into my pores. I couldn’t envy his brightness anymore because he was so willing to shed some light on me. I wanted that light. I wanted it more than I wanted anything before.
Not anything…
I screwed my eyes shut as Dexter started the car. I left them closed for a few minutes, keeping my hand in his. We slowed and I opened my eyes. The stoplight changed from red to green, and when we neared my old building, I sat up.
