Page 58 of Grief & Glitter

“I miss him,” Noah whispered.

That broke me. I bent forward, elbows on my knees, and covered my face. “Me too.”

“I miss Mom as well,” Noah added.

Dad made a broken sound. For a while none of us did anything except cry, not neatly, not quietly. Dad ran out of tissues and stole Noah’s box. Noah laughed while crying, and that made me laugh, and that made Dad cry harder—until we were all a mess.

Eventually Noah wiped his face. “I want you back in my life, Gid. I know I don’t deserve to ask that.”

“Don’t.”

His face fell. “Okay.”

“No, I mean don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Decide what you deserve.” He blinked. “I’m fucking sick of everyone deciding what they deserve.” Including me. Especially me. “I don’t know if we can go back,” I added. “We can’t be who we were.”

“I know.”

I reached across the space between us. He looked at my hand, then took it. “You’ve got me.” His fingers tightened around mine. “We start there.”

Dad put his hand over his eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Noah muttered.

Dad lowered his hand. “What?”

“You’re crying again.”

“I’m allowed.”

“You’re doing that old-man snuffle.”

“I do not snuffle.”

“You absolutely snuffle,” I said.

Dad stared at me. Noah started laughing. I joined him. And then Dad did too. Three of us—still one missing. Always one missing. But for the first time, that didn’t make the three of us feel like a failure.

Dad walked me out after the session. The cold hit hard the second the doors opened, sharp enough to make me zip my jacket to my throat.

“You seeing Noah again before you go?” he asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”

“Ryan and I thought we’d get on the road after.”

Dad nodded. He knew the plan. He’d known it for days because while the Copperheads had been good, I didn’t want to push my luck. “You’ll call when you get back?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”