Page 64 of Off the Wall

I draw in another long breath.

Here we go, Nori. Time to get real.

“They died in a car accident when I was four.”

His eyes darken, and his Adam’s apple dips. I’ve answeredthis question countless times, and I always feel worse for the person I’m talking to than myself. They usually have no idea what they’re getting into when they ask.

“I’m so sorry, Nori,” he says at last. His voice is gravelly. Sincere. And my throat constricts with the instinct to make this easier on him.

“Honestly? I don’t really have many memories of that time. What I know is mostly from pictures and the stories my brother tells. I was either too young, or my mind blocked everything out. That’s what the therapists think, at least.”

A vein begins to throb above his brow. “Not remembering has gotta be hard in its own way.”

“Probably. Yes.” I tip my chin, deciding I might as well go all in with the story now that I’ve started. “My parents tried for a long time to have another baby after my brother. Eventually they came to terms with the fact that they were one and done. Sixteen years later, I came along.” I splay my hands. “Surprise!” I’m trying to lighten up a heavy topic, but Cash keeps his gaze steady on mine. “I never met my grandparents, and my mom and dad didn’t have any siblings, so there were no uncles, aunts, or extended family to take me in.”

“Wow.” Cash breathes out. He’s most likely beginning to connect the dots.

“That’s why my poor brother got stuck raising me,” I say. “It was either that, or the foster care system. He was barely twenty at the time, but he still fought to be my guardian.”

“Man, I was an idiot when I was twenty.” Cash’s voice is full of rust. “I can’t imagine unexpectedly raising a four-year-old.”

“East was amazing. That’s my brother. Easton? He’sstillamazing. Although getting him to loosen the reins is an ongoing struggle.” I tuck my legs up beneath me on the couch. “And I’ll probably never get over the debt I owe him. Or the guilt I carry over what he sacrificed. He dropped outof college to work full time. And he was so worried about doing right by me, he never had any kids of his own.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” Cash gives a small shake of his head. “Your brother chose that path.”

I press on a grim smile. “Did he really have a choice, though?”

Cash runs a hand along the back of his neck, but he doesn’t push back. He’s giving me space. Or maybe he’s recognizing the rhetorical nature of my question.

“He married his high school sweetheart to strengthen his case in family court. Luckily he and Becca were in love, planning to tie the knot eventually anyway. Still, taking care of me sped the timeline along. Becca’s awesome, too. So are her mom and dad. But they’re getting older now, so East and Becca moved to Boston to help out.”

“They sound like generous people.”

“They are.” I nod. “They’ve also spent most of their lives putting family first. Stuck in a perpetual caregiver sandwich. That’s why I’m never going to be a burden to them again.”

His eyes peruse my face. “So I have to ask. What does all this have to do with swimming?”

“Ah, that.” My face slips into a cringe. “To hear East tell it, I’d already been fighting our mom and dad tooth and nail about going to swim lessons. After we moved here, he tried to enroll me again, but I threw a huge tantrum. Parenting his orphaned sister was hard enough, so he just gave up. That was a hill he wasn’t prepared to die on. No pun intended.”

Cash blinks, rubs at his chin.

“Sorry for the gallows humor.” I wrinkle my nose. “Most people who are curious about my parents just want to marinate in the tragedy of it all. When I was a kid, I couldn’t deal with the heaviness of the topic. So. I made jokes.”

“Yeah.” He pauses for a breath, a slow nod coming. “I can relate.”

“Really?” I arch a brow. “Don’t tell me your parents were in a car wreck too.”

“No,” he rushes to say. “My parents are both just fine.” He takes a beat, shifting his jaw. “I’mthe one who got wrecked,” he says. “And my mom and dad have never gotten over it. At least, not fully.”

“I’m so sorry.” I part my lips, examining his face. “Was it something to do with your career change?”

“Yeah.” He averts his gaze. “It’s got everything to do with that.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cash

What I remember mostabout that afternoon is the sun. In all my memories, it’s still blindingly bright, scorching half the infield, while the other half sits in shadow. If I shut my eyes, I’m still at third base, when the crack of the bat rings out sharp and clear across the stadium. The crowd roars, and I sprint toward the foul line, spikes grinding against the dirt. All instinct. No thought.

---