Ann Aguirre - I Want It That Way

“I know.”

“And...your mother says you two can share your old room. Sam can sleep in Rob’s.” He spoke that offer grudgingly.

“I’ll let Ty know. Thanks, Dad.” Standing up, I kissed his forehead, then climbed the stairs to find out where Ty was with tucking Sam in.

They’d just finished the bath, and Ty was drying him off while explaining why fireflies glowed. He was much more scientific about it than I’d have been, but it didn’t appear to diminish Sam’s delight. I beckoned them both into Rob’s room, which still smelled faintly of body spray. Sam didn’t mind; my brother’s sports trophies transfixed him.

“He’s really good at football, huh?”

“Yeah, he was.” It was a little sad, truthfully, because Rob might be one of those guys who peaked in high school and would spend the rest of his life looking back.

“Will he mind if I have his room?” Sam asked.

Ty glanced at me; I shook my head. “He’s got his own place now.”

“Okay, then.” Sam snuggled into the clean sheets, glancing up at us expectantly.

Ty produced Goodnight Moon, and Sam made it almost to the end before falling asleep. Tiptoeing out, I left the hall light on, as my parents had done for us when we were kids. With the door cracked, Sam shouldn’t be scared if he woke up in a strange bed; there would be enough light streaming in for him to figure out where he was. And Mr. O’Beary was beside him, too.

“Am I sleeping on the couch?” Ty asked.

“Nope. You have permission to share with me.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised. My parents aren’t that old or particularly religious.” Taking his hand, I led him down the hall to my room.

When I shut the door behind us, Ty bent his head and kissed me. Tension seeped out of him, as if he’d expected this visit to be more of a trial. I wrapped my arms around him and ran my fingers down his back. He shivered, gazing down at me with smoky eyes.

“You shouldn’t get me worked up. I’m not having sex. Your parents are right downstairs. It seems—”

“Dirty?” I teased.

“Disrespectful. Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not. Your desire to be decent is adorable.”

We took turns using the bathroom to brush teeth and whatever else. Then he settled beside me in the full-size bed I’d slept in since I was eleven years old. That was a bit startling, like my two worlds had finally converged, but it was a good feeling. Ty settled me against him, and I sighed in pleasure. He made the same noise when I trailed my fingers up and down his back, the way some other girl had done to drive him crazy. But she wasn’t the one who still had a hold on him. Diana might as well be in the bed with us because she was still a shadow at the corner of his mind.

“You have to let go,” I said softly.

“Of you? Never.”

I curved my palm against his cheek. “Of the guilt. You made a mistake by not listening to Diana, yet you can’t regret it because of Sam. But then you look at him and remember how much you hurt her. It’s an endless cycle, and you have to break it.”

He put his face against my shoulder, his mouth moving against my skin, so each word felt like kisses. “I don’t know how.”

“I do.” And then I told him.

The next day, my mom packed a picnic, and we drove to the fairgrounds. It was a gorgeous day, bright and sunny, and we found a great spot near the swimming area. Compared to Lake Michigan, it wasn’t much, just a man-made pond with an artificial beach, but Sam seemed to be having a blast. He wriggled the whole time Ty applied the sunblock, then he was off and running. He zoomed up and down the shore and yelled incomprehensible stuff at us that I pretended to understand.

“He loves it here,” Ty said.

“I’m glad. My parents adore him already, so they’ll definitely want us to come back.” Watching Sam, I remembered what Ty had said about no more kids. “Are you still sold on him being an only?”

He slanted me an inscrutable look. “It’s negotiable.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

My dad sat with Sam, patiently constructing a sand castle. Since he had been building things his whole adult life, he was insanely good at it. Ty and I both fell asleep in the shade, and when I woke up, the structure was so big, so elaborate, that it had a moat and a working drawbridge. People were gathered around, watching my dad show Sam how the pulley worked.

Beside me, Ty stirred and slipped his hand into mine. I squeezed gently. When he tugged, I rolled over to face him. His eyes shone, and his face was tight. Wordless, I traced a fingertip down his chin, silently asking him to talk to me. But it took him a few seconds to find his voice.

“I would’ve robbed Sam of this,” he whispered. “Of having more people to love him. I was so angry at Diana, so sure I could be enough for him, it never occurred to me that he deserved more. We would’ve been so fucking lonely without you, and I never would’ve known. I wouldn’t have noticed when I changed from a tired, grumpy asshole into a bitter old man.”

“That won’t happen,” I said gently. “Sam and I know how to make you laugh.”

“Thank you.” By the fervor of his tone, he meant for more than just those words.

Around three, Lauren and Rob showed up in time for the picnic lunch. My mom had packed fried chicken, potato salad, carrot and celery sticks, orange Jell-O wigglers, which made Sam clap his hands in delight, and Rice Krispies treats. I ate until my stomach hurt. Afterward, I leaned back into Ty’s arms. When the sun dipped below the horizon, the fairgrounds got more crowded and we packed up, then took the picnic supplies to the car.

Keeping only quilts for watching the fireworks, my dad picked a careful path across the gravel, my mom’s hand on his arm. A stranger might think he was supporting her instead of the other way around. Ty wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we settled onto the blanket, and Sam climbed into my lap. I kissed the top of his head, breathing in the scent of warm boy, sunshine and orange Jell-O. His mouth was stained from all of the wigglers he’d eaten, and he chattered excitedly, telling us about his day, as if we hadn’t been there with him. As ever, Ty’s replies were slow and patient.

“Nadia’s dad can build anything,” Sam told him. “He said I can call him Grandpa Ned. Is that okay?”

Ty glanced at me over the top of Sam’s head. I nodded. If my dad had said that, it meant he was already one of the kid’s biggest fans. Apart from Diana, Sam affected pretty much everyone like that. I wondered how she’d feel about my stepping into her shoes, and then I realized it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if I was taking possession of her life; she’d never been part of this. Not really. Wherever she was, I hoped she was happy.

As it got dark fully, Ty pushed to his feet. Sam started to follow him, but I shook my head, whispering, “Your dad needs to do this on his own.”

“What?”

“Say goodbye.”

Sam tilted his head, puzzled, but he stayed on my lap, tracking Ty’s movements through the crowd. When he came back to our blanket, he had a bottle rocket in his hand, and as I’d suggested the night before, there was a piece of paper taped around it. I didn’t ask to read his final words to Diana; those were for him alone, but I knew there would be the apology he couldn’t speak in person, because she didn’t want to be found, and a wish for her to find joy in her work and peace in the decision to leave everything behind.

Without looking at us, Ty took a deep breath and lit the fuse, then he planted the bottle rocket in the ground. When it shot upward in an arc of spitting orange light, Sam’s eyes widened. It exploded overhead in a crackle of light, and bits of charred paper fluttered down like Christmas in July. Deep in my heart, I hoped that maybe Diana felt it, somehow, and she knew she was truly free.

No regrets.

Watching the scraps of paper drift to earth, I thought about Max. Connections were everywhere, binding people together. If not for him writing about Lauren, I never would’ve written down how I felt about Ty, never would’ve shown him my soul, scribbled out in ink. And Ty would never have purged Diana from his conscience. Someday, he might even think of her without ugliness being the first thing on his mind.

I glanced over at Lauren and started because she was resting, ever so slightly, against my brother. He reached for her instinctively when she leaned in, his arm possessive around her shoulders. I had a hundred questions, and as if she sensed me staring, she glanced over. Her eyes widened, but I just smiled. Whatever that was, she’d tell me when she felt ready.

Lauren smiled back and mouthed, Thank you.

On the other side, my parents were curled up together, waiting for the fireworks. It was impossible for me to imagine anything more wonderful, but then, Ty came back. He wrapped an arm about me; and in that instant, the heavens cracked open in cascades of wonder, brightness blazing in kaleidoscopic shapes that made Sam bounce with excitement. Beneath the booms and pops of each new formation, I rested my head against Ty’s shoulder.

“I love you.”

I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until Ty whispered the words back to me. He kissed my cheek and then Sam’s head, touching us as if we were all he needed in the world, his sun and stars sharing a quilt with him. Contentment radiated from him in a way I’d never known—and my heart burst with fireworks, spilling colors like the sky.

I guess you’ve figured it out by now; I tricked you. There is, in fact, a happy ending. But if you’d known that my story became our story because I made a choice, would you have read until the end? People are fascinated by dark things, broken things, damaged things. You wanted to learn the exact moment it splintered apart, but would you have been as interested in watching me put the pieces back together, if you’d known? I wonder.