Handful by C.R. Grissom

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Everest

Once I’m back from Coach Larry’s, I upload the outline for my semester project. The working title is Golden. In my project notes I’ve detailed my designs for a cognitive program for seniors. It’s a game that combines math, interactive storytelling based on historical events, crossword puzzles, and simple tech problem solving.

That baseline will get me a decent grade on my project. I didn’t include this next bit in my project notes, but I will talk to Mr. Lacerna about it. Golden will feature daily prompts on tech skills like how to recognize scammers. Unlock points on daily play and get discounts for grocery and other retail stores.

Goldenwill test what you’ve learned. Remembering how to do something gets you bonus points. Tiaras for Ladies, Top Hats for Men, and Diamonds for non-binary folks, to achieve discounts.

If you connect it to a smart watch or phone, it will track movement. Put the phone in your pocket, and your hands on your walker. Or choose to do a series of movements from the safety of your couch. Plug in earbuds or use the Bluetooth feature on your hearing aids to listen to stories while you take a walk, but be prepared to answer questions to unlock savings.

The user adds in health details to create a customized program based on ability and mobility. It will take a village—or a company with a wide reach—to bring it all together. Maybe partner with a company like AARP to assist with discounts? I’m working on the proposal to send to Mr. Lacerna when the doorbell gongs.

I slide my chair over to the smaller monitor on my desk and click into the security system from my desktop computer. Shane is at my front door. Dressed all in black like some kind of Goth clothing model. Rage clear from his ramrod-straight back and the sneer fixed to his face. Oh, crap.

I’m halfway down the hall when the buzzer goes again. Impatient much? I open the door. “Shane.”

“Can I come in?” His hands are clenched.

I wonder if he’ll try to hit me? No. He’s not the type to take a swing. “Sure.”

I stand back to let him enter, then move down the short hall, leading Shane to our living room. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything? We have iced water and power drinks.”

He shakes his head and opens his fists. “I’m leaving.”

“You just got here,” I say, being obtuse as fuck.

“You know what I mean.”

I shrug. “Okay.” I don’t fill the silence. He’ll either talk or he won’t. I extended an olive branch back at the storage place. He threw it back at me. His move.

He clears his throat. “He wasn’t an easy man, but I idolized him.”

I nod. Dad was my hero before he walked out of my life and into Shane’s. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shakes his head. “This is what I don’t understand. You lost him too.”

I blow out a breath. “It’s different for me. I lost him eight years ago. You lost him weeks ago. I’ve had time to grieve and you haven’t.”

“He wanted me to see that storage place. He wanted me to meet you.”

This has bugged me from the moment I stepped out of the storage unit. “I thought you said his boat sank? Did he ask you to meet me before he died?”

“No. There was a safe deposit box at the bank. The key was in an envelope with my name on it. There was a note. He wrote, ‘Meet your brother. Learn from him.’” There’s a catch in Shane’s voice and tears shimmer in his eyes. “Dad’s final fuck you to me. Sending me here to see for myself how much he loved you.” He shoves his thumb at his chest. “And how little I meant to him.”

I can’t imagine how much Shane must hurt from Dad’s callousness. I will never, ever, treat my child this way. No child deserves this kind of bullshit comparison. “Shane, I’m sorry he hurt you this way. You have every right to hate me. If we try to find common ground, we might overcome the damage he did to us both.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t do that. Every time I look at you, I see him.”

“That’s unfortunate. I can’t change my DNA, but I’m not him. I’ll make damn sure I don’t end up like him. You can make the same choice.”

Shane impatiently drags his hand through his hair. “You have my number and I have yours. Don’t call me. If I want to talk to you, I’ll reach out.”

I’ll respect his wishes. “I won’t call. That’s the least I can do for you. I hope you decide to call me. You’re my only brother.”

He shrugs.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Take care.” It’s the only thing I can think to say.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

I walk him out and watch him drive away. I want to hear Mom’s voice right now. I won’t tell her about the baby, not until Kirsty makes her decision. My chest hurts. Family can bring such joy and give you immeasurable heartache.

*

I answer Kirsty’sFaceTime call an hour later. No lead-in. She blurts, “I’m going to do this. I’m having this baby. Anything else is unthinkable for me. I know it’s not fair that I won’t consider…” she pauses to draw in a deep breath and glances away from the screen “…alternatives. I can’t. I’m sorry, Eric. I know this is the absolute worst thing, and it takes away your choice, but I’ve made up my mind.”

“Kirsty,” I say, my voice firm. “Look at me.”

Tears drip off her face. I wait until she glances at the screen so I can see her eyes. “We’ll figure it out. The baby is ours: yours and mine. We’ll figure it out. You can count on me.”

“Dude, I’m destroying your life. Don’t you have any self-preservation instincts or pithy comments?” she asks.

I laugh. It’s an honest to goodness bark of laughter. “You are the most stubborn creature. We did this. You didn’t get pregnant by yourself.”

“Well, yeah. I’m not being stubborn. You’re not normal. I drop an absolute life-shattering truth bomb on you, and you respond with calmness? What’s wrong with you?” She bites her lip.

“One day you’ll learn to trust me. One day you’ll get that bone-deep knowledge that I’m on your side, too.”

“Eric, I do know. At the risk of inflating your already mountain-sized ego, you’re the most trustworthy guy I’ve ever met. Next to Caleb, of course.”

I laugh. “Lilly…”

“What?” She grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Does Faith know?”

“I called her after we spoke. You came slightly ahead since you were the farmer who planted this seed.”

I smile. “Junior isn’t a seed. He’s a future offensive lineman.”

“If you can make jokes, you must not hate me.” Her eyes swim with tears. “And she’s going to be goddess of all she surveys.”

“Just like her mama.”

She scoffs. “I have to go. I’ll text you updates when I know more about Collin.”

“Call, don’t text.”

“Okay. I will. Good-bye.”

“Take care. Good care, I mean it.”

*

CW arrives tenminutes later. Like me, he’s dressed in Gladiator athletic gear: shorts and a workout T-shirt. First Shane, now my teammate. My roommates are out, which is a good thing. Our house is as busy as a BART station during rush hour.

CW sits heavily on the couch. “Jesus, Everest. Kirsty’s pregnant?”

Less statement, more question. “Yeah.” I sit on the opposite couch, too tired to do anything else. I glance around the room. The couches are old—creases and a few cracks showing through the leather—reminding me we’ll need better furniture.

“What a fucking mess.” He lifts his hands and drops them back to his lap. “What are you going to do?”

“She called a few minutes ago. She’s going to keep the baby. We’ll figure it out,” And we will. No matter what. We’re going to do this. We’re going to be the best parents we can possibly be for our child.

CW nods. “What can I do to help?”

Just like that, help offered without question. This is what family does for each other. “Nothing now. I appreciate your support.”

“Faith will be the baby’s auntie. I’m honorary uncle. You’re stuck with us. Shit, you know the whole team will pitch in.”

He has a point. I have close friends on the team equally willing to lend a hand whenever needed. “I’m making mental lists. I’ll need to get a job with health insurance. That’s first up since my side-gigs pay rent and living expenses, but not healthcare. Kirsty hasn’t said, but I’m guessing a summer baby? She and the baby will need to move in.”

“What if she goes back home?” CW asks carefully.

My blood runs cold at the thought. Would she move back home? It didn’t cross my mind, but it makes a horrible kind of sense. “Then I’ll transfer to a university near her. I won’t be an absentee dad. It’s not acceptable.”

“No. You’re right. Fuck me. What will the team do without you? T-Rex didn’t fill your size-fourteen shoes.”

“He needs more seasoning,” I agree. “Maybe she won’t want to move home?”

CW wipes his hands on the legs of his shorts. “Yeah, maybe.” Doubt colors his voice.

She’s home now. The longer she stays the higher the odds she won’t come back. She went back for her brother, not herself. I don’t want to think about this right now. “Subject change. My dad had a storage locker in San Jose.”

“Wait, what?”

“Shane took me there. It was more fucked up for him than for me.”

“How so?”

I realize belatedly maybe talking about Dad with CW is a bad idea. CW lost his dad suddenly, while they weren’t speaking to each other. It was a hard loss for him in so many ways.

“You know what? Let’s talk about something else? I forgot for a minute. Sorry about that.”

“Everest, I’m okay. I made peace with what happened with my dad. You can talk to me about yours.”

I nod. “Shane walked into a photo shrine of my family. Dad had pics of the Lobos and Spartan games from our sophomore year. He took them. He was there. I never knew.”

“Lousy for both of you for different reasons.”

“Well, yeah. But the difference being Dad left us eight years ago. I stopped caring about him. Shane doesn’t have the family support I do, and he lost his mother in the same accident. He’s completely alone.”

“That sucks.”

“It really does. At the same time, he doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can’t blame him, but I can’t force him either.”

“No. You can’t catch a break right now, can you?”

“Feels that way.” I shrug. “The other way to look at it is I’m overdue for a change of luck.”

“True dat.”

I focus on a positive thought. One I desperately want to be true. Please, Kirsty. Please stay here and don’t move back home.