Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Wow,” Alex says. “That’s kind of cool.”
“Pot roast with mashed potatoes was his favorite home-cooked meal,” Willa says as she dishes up Alex’s plate. “With extra gravy.”
“I want extra gravy,” Alex says. “What other foods did he like?”
“He loved pizza with Canadian bacon and pineapple,” I say, thinking about it.
“I don’t like that,” Alex says. “What else?”
“Remember that burger place that used to be just outside of town?” Willa asks. “He loved that place.”
“One time, when we were in high school, Cary and I went to that burger joint, and he hit on the waitress.”
“I didn’t know that,” Willa says.
“Well, she turned him down flat. But as we were leaving, she gave me her number and asked me to give it to him. She was shy.”
“Did he call her?” Alex asks with a grin.
“He did. And they went out on a date. I think it was his very first date ever, but he was so nervous, he threw up on his way there. He had to stand her up and go home to clean his car.”
“That’s horrible,” Willa says, her face horrified. “Poor Cary.”
“He ended up doing all right,” I remind her with a raised brow, and she laughs with a nod.
“That’s true.”
“What else did you used to do with my dad?” Alex asks as he shoves mashed potatoes into his mouth, then slips a piece of meat down to Rocky.
“When we were really young, like about your age, we would go camping.”
“Alone?” Alex’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah, just the two of us. My dad would drive us up the road a bit from their old house where there was a campground, and we’d pitch a tent and roast hot dogs on the fire that one of the other campers would make for us.”
“Good God, don’t even think about doing that,” Willa says to Alex, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“No way, this is awesome,” Alex says with a laugh. “Can you take me camping?”
“I don’t see why not. Oh, this one time, we were down at the river fishing, and your dad caught a fish that was at least five pounds.”
“No way,” Alex says with excitement. “My dad liked to fish?”
“It was his favorite thing,” I confirm. “And he was good at it, too. I always thought it was a little boring, honestly.”
“I’d like to fish.”
“Maybe Papa will take you this summer,” Willa says. “Papa taught your dad, you know.”
“Papa’s good at lots of things,” Alex says with a nod. “He’ll totally take me. He said he’d teach me how to play baseball, too.”
“Your dad was an all-state baseball player,” Willa says. “Max and I used to go to every single one of his games to cheer him on.”
“Wow,” Alex says. “That’s really cool. Does he have trophies?”
“I’m sure he did,” I say with a frown and look over to Willa. “Do you know if Jean and Dan kept any of his things from school?”
“I think so,” she says with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll ask them, and then when they come up for the summer, maybe they’ll show them to you, Alex.”
“That would be awesome. I think Thursdays are going to be my new favorite. It’s even better than Taco Tuesday. Tell me more.”
“Well, remember when I said your dad loved to fish? This one time…”
I settle in, eating and telling stories about my best friend to my son, watching his face light up in excitement at hearing about the man who gave him life.
And when I gaze at Willa and see the love reflected back at me, I realize that the worst moment in my life gave me the best ones. That as we move on from grief and guilt, we’re blessed with the gift of joy and love.
And I don’t think I can ever thank Cary enough for that.
Epilogue
~Willa~
“THIS IS A TRADITION?” Alex asks as we set up camping chairs in the snow at Cary’s grave. “With root beer and everything?”
“I usually bring real beer, but neither you nor your mom can drink that, so, root beer it is,” Max says with a wink, pops the top off one bottle of the soda, and sets it on top of the tombstone. I lay the red roses at the base of it. “Your dad gets the first one.”
Max opens three more and passes them to us, and then we all sit down as if we’re settling in for a long chat.
Because we are.
“Hi, Dad,” Alex begins. The train whistle blows, making me smile and look over at Max, who’s also grinning. “I guess this is my first time here.”
It’s been a year since the day I walked up to this spot and found Max here. A year since my world changed forever.
“I think you’re old enough to come,” I reply and take a sip of my root beer. It’s cold, but we’re all nicely bundled up, with toe and hand warmers stuffed into our socks and gloves. “You can talk to him, you know.”