Page 86 of Every Chance After

She adds Post-It Notes and a flexible ruler to the basket. “So, what changed?”

“Wade and Maureen went out on the lake on his boat, had a lot to drink, fell asleep, and when he woke up, she was gone.”

“Gone?” She stops in her tracks.

“She was found the next day. She drowned. Wade has no idea what happened, only that the authorities concluded that she must’ve fallen overboard during the night. An accident precipitated by alcohol.”

Marina’s entire frame slumps as if she knew Maureen personally. “Grady, I’m so sorry.”

“It was a huge blow to the family, especially Wade.”

“He must’ve been devastated.”

“Still is. Everything fell apart after that. Dad blamed him. Wade blamed himself. They fought about it. Dad said he wouldn’t bring us around him anymore, that he couldn’t be trusted with us. That pretty much ruined their relationship permanently. Sounds harsh, but Dad had a point. Wade buried himself in a bottle.”

“Everyone has a story that defines what comes after and changes them forever.”

“Yeah, like us.”

“Mom used to sayIwas her story.” Her soft smile hooks my attention. She curves around the aisle’s end, offering slightly more explanation when she says, “She had me young. She wasn’t ready. She’d tell meIwas her story but never that it was the one she wanted.”

She laughs lightly, though I don’t know why. I remember her mentioning her mom during her migraine and how she would braid her hairon good days.

“What happened to her?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She moves into the next aisle, leaving me with this rare insight into her.

I’m not sure what bothers me more—her not knowing where her mom is or her belief that she wasn’t wanted.

I want to know more, but she gives me a pointed look. “I don’t know much about how families are supposed to work. But I bet Maureen wouldn’t want Wade or any of you holding on to guilt and anger over losing her. What good does that do? It only keeps you apart.”

I can’t argue. She sounds like Aunt Elena—the only one who still talks to Wade regularly—and I feel bad for the distance between us, especially when I think of all my good memories of him.

“Tell me about Roy and Christie,” she urges, dropping felt-tip markers into my basket.

I share what little I know about them. They’ve been friends as long as I can remember. I chuckle, explaining Roy’s hot dog eating contests, how he always made us laugh, and how he often advised me badly on how to pick up girls when I was a teenager. I share that Christie used to be an electrical engineer, but gave it up when he came to live at The Marshes after his marriage ended. Being a stay-at-home dad and staying close to his friends mattered more to Christie than a big house or lucrative career. I remember Wade, Roy, and Christie often fixing cars for people in the trailer park. And that they’d always drop whatever they were doing to hang out with me and my siblings when we stopped by. It was like we wereallfamily—a feeling I forgot until now.

Marina doesn’t say much as I ramble on about them and my memories of the place. But she smiles at my stories with the same wanton approval I remember from the hospital when she saw Ashe crying on his mom’s shoulder.

After Staples, she asks to go to the G&G for what she calls “detailing.” On the quiet drive there, I consider what she said about not knowing how families work. Her mom is gone, her ‘work family’ dissolved, and the family she thought she’d have with Ashe destroyed. For her, family must be an intangible fantasy that exists for everyone else but slips through her fingers like rain in a cupped hand. I can’t imagine how lonely that must feel or how she smiles so easily despite everything.

And I feel bad for complaining.

When we arrive at the property, Christie tumbles out of a hammock in his front yard when he sees us. Then, he beams, waving at us with the book in his hand before racing inside his trailer.

Wade and Roy watchSeinfeldon an old tube TV behind the store’s counter, smoking and drinking as usual.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Marina says cheerfully. “I’m just here to take some notes.”

Wade huffs. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“Friendscomes on after this,” Roy reports. “Pull up a chair and have a beer or two.”

“Too much to do, I’m afraid.” Marina pats her notebook. “But y’all enjoy. You won’t have many more lazy days like this once we start.”

She bookends her remark with a shoulder bounce and a giggle, striking sudden fear into the two men as they exchange pained looks and twist in my direction. I return their gazes with irritation and a look that saysyes, you’ll have to get off your asses. They groan, taking in my meaning without needing words.

Marina takes in our cryptic exchange. “Don’t worry, fellas. It’ll be fun.”

---