The Truth About That Summer

thirty-eight

The walk home from the center matches my mood: dark and grey. When the raindrops finally fall, I tilt my head back to feel the moisture on my face.

It's refreshing, renewing, even.

But still my conversation with Luke has been bothering me all day, the guilt of leaving my Grams when she was mourning her only other grandchild repeatedly bubbling to the surface.

Grief made me selfish. And even though it still hurts, I never stopped to think about the hurt she was going through, too.

By the time I reach our home, my clothes and hair are soaked through, leaving puddles on the hardwood as I step inside.

Despite the warm temperature outside, the rain chilled me to the bone. Leaning against the wall, I take a moment to let my body acclimate to the warmth.

"Got caught in the rain?" Grams quips, pressing a weathered hand to my forearm as she trudges into the living room.

"I don't mind so much." I reply truthfully. I watch as Grams settles into her arm chair, more wobbly on her feet than she used to be, and decide to plop down on the floor at her feet.

"If you weren't so stubborn, you could've taken Luke up on his offer for a ride." Grams murmurs. "Now you'll get a cold."

Silently, I lean my head against her knee. Luke's story doesn't account for why she tries so hard to get us together, though. Unless he truly did help her heal after Casey, and she thinks he might help me, too.

If only she knew everything. The image of the two of them together burns every time it pops into my head, refusing to be forgotten.

"Hey, Grams?" I tilt my head back to look at her and her old hand finds my hair, soothingly patting it from my face as I try to find the words to say how sorry I am.

"Luke told me everything today..."

Grams fingers pause momentarily before resuming detangling my damp locks. "Everything, eh?"

My eyebrows scrunch together. That makes me think not.

Before I can ask, Grams keeps going. "Go on, what did he say?"

So I tell her. "It was really nice of you to do for Laura and Finn. I get why Luke was around, too."

Grams blinks, expression giving nothing away, before she cracks a small smile. "That boy Finn is a real character, isn't he?"

My heart aches, imagining Grams doting on the toddler the way she used to for us. To be there to talk to Laura when no one else was, when her own granddaughter was too afraid to. Even Luke... I wonder, when they sat at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches and potato chips, was Grams reminded of her lunches with Casey?

"And Grams," I let go of my bottom lip, rising to my knees to meet her eyes. "I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry I didn't make sure you were okay..." I wipe harshly at my lash line. "I'm sorry that I never even said sorry."

"There, there," Grams leans forward immediately, wrapping her small arms around my neck and pulling me close to her chest. "Don't you apologize to me, Dylan. You did what you had to do."

Speaking into her sweater, I shake my head. "You lost your grandson and all I could think about was how I lost my brother."

When I finally pull away, face covered in red splotches and tears, I take a big gulp. "You shouldn't have had to lose me, too."

"Oh, baby." Grams kisses the top of my head, squeezing my fingers so tightly my knuckles might bruise. "I'm not convinced you were ever truly lost... But it's good to see you finally coming back."

I raise my brows at her skeptically and she shrugs.

"Slow and steady wins the race, Dylan Grace. Don't you forget that."

Taking a shaky breath, I lean against her leg again, the words marinating in my mind.

Slow and steady.

I can do that, can't I?

"How about this?" Grams pushes herself from the armchair, using some effort to stand upright. "You go get into some dry clothes and I'll open this bottle of wine I've been saving. Sound like a plan?"

I nod my head and run up the stairs, hurrying out of my wet clothes before they can leave rashes over my skin. Only taking a handful of minutes to remove my makeup and tie back my hair, I return downstairs.

In front of Grams are two glasses of white wine - filled to the brim, as Grams never believed in taking the appropriate amount at the expense of a good time - and a scrapbook.

My stride falters and I nearly tumble down the last couple of stairs. Surely slow and steady doesn't mean devouring hundreds of painful memories in one sitting?

"Come here." Grams says softly, patting the sofa beside her. I do as she says and she hands me my glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers," I repeat, anxiety sending my pulse hammering in my ears. "What's this?"

"You know, I kept so many pictures." I remember, I even assumed it was where Casey got the trait. "This album, if you can believe it, is only the summer you and Casey were about... seven and five- five and a half."

I smile, vaguely familiar with that summer. Dad brought us down to the pier to fish, but I was too little, unable to reach over the railings. He was wrapped up in his own catches, but Casey let me "share" his pole. He even let me reel in his biggest catch.

Grams flips the album open and sure enough, the first page is covered in shots from our fishing trips.

She continues turning the pages, both of us not speaking - simply reliving the moments we'll never get back.

Somehow, I'm not sure how it's possible, I let out a laugh when I see Casey's face, front and center on the following page. Tracing the outline with my finger tips, for the first time, it doesn't hurt so much.

"Look at him," I shake my head at his wide grin. "That was when he got his tooth knocked out, remember?" I turn to Grams, pointing at the shot of his toothless smile. "He and Luke rode their new skateboards down the hill at the park, even though you told them not to. Mom was so mad..."

"Of course I remember. Who do you think had to drive your terrified mother to get it fixed?"

I laugh again, the sound like light in the air, some of the pressure on my chest lessening, and nod at Grams. "Yeah, I remember."

And I do.

I spend the rest of the evening remembering. Casey and I on the Ferris wheel at our first Summer Bash, Casey and I searching for sea glass along the shore, our walks to the ice cream shop every afternoon...

I remember everything I can from the summer when he was seven and I was five and a half. It might not be much, but for now, it's all I can handle.

And if there's on thing I know deep down, it's that my brother deserves to be remembered.

another update for y'all! another emotional one for poor Dyl.
remember to tell me what you think in the comments and vote if you liked the chapter!