Page 9 of Digging Deeper

“Yeah, but I’m in my car already. Are you home?”

“Yes.” Without me saying so, Holds stays on the phone with me as I drive to his house, and he tells me stories about some of the animals he worked on today. He distracts me, which is exactly what I need.

When I park in his driveway, he’s out the door before I can fully exit the car, and when I do get out, he pulls me into a tight hug.

My tears fall before I make it into the house and grief overwhelms me like it always does. They say time heals all wounds, but I’m pretty sure that’s just bullshit. Nothing will ever heal this hole in my heart.

5

Hendrix

“Something is bothering you, Drix. I wish you’d tell me,” Holds says.

“What? I’m fine.” I study the cards in my hand before choosing one and laying it down. When Holds makes no comment, I glance up. He sets his hand down face-side up, so I assume that means he’s done playing. At his continued silence, I sigh, leaning back into the pillows Holds had propped behind me before we started the game. “I feel guilty.”

“For what? Being mean to Gav? You should.” His face scrunches up the same way it did when we were little kids and he was mad he got caught doing something and I didn’t. He wasn’t as sly as me, so no matter how many snacks I snuck out of the pantry or how late I stayed up under the covers with a flashlight after we were supposed to be asleep, I never got caught. However, he did. Every single time.

“What now?” I ask, completely perplexed, his eyes are glowing and the grin spreading across his face is making me nervous.

“You just smiled. A real, genuine, full-teeth smile. What were you thinking about?”

A laugh bubbles up from the inside of my belly. “How sucky you were at getting away with stuff when we were kids. Did you want to get caught by Mom and Dad?” The way his eyes widen and his lips twitch makes me narrow mine suspiciously. “You did want to get caught? But why?”

Holds huffs as he crosses his arms and leans back into his seat. “Because, you”—he waves his arm toward me—“got away with murder, and I couldn’t even skip changing my underwear without getting caught. It was so annoying how easily you got away with stuff… and don’t sit there all smug, either. You may have been able to fool Mom and Dad, but I tricked you.”

“Never. Not once did you pull anything over on me. You weren’t near smooth enough,” I reply, holding in another round of laughter.

“Oh yes I did.” Tilting his head, he squirms in his seat, dancing like a goof. “Once I figured out that you were sneakier, I let myself get caught a couple of times in a row. Then you felt bad for me, and I never had to try to get my own stuff again. You would do it for me. If you got a fruit roll-up for you, you got one for me. If you went for a juice box for you, you brought me one, too. Tell me who was the slick one now. Ha. I didn’t have to worry about being sneaky after that.” I can’t help it. Now I’m cracking up. “What? Why are you laughing? I did fool you, and Mom, and Dad, just everybody. You should be impressed right now.”

I try, I really try to respond, but by the time I do, I have tears rolling down my face, and Holds is glaring death rays at me. “Holds, you still got caught. When I snuck you treats, your dumb ass used to put the empty wrappers and juice boxes into the trash, in your own room. And you still got in trouble. First, for eating in your room, and then they’d yell asking how you got it in the first place.”

His bottom lip pokes out. “Yeah, how come you never got in trouble for that? Where did you put your trash?”

I shrug. “Wherever I could find. Under my mattress, in the bottom of my Legos, you name a hidden spot, and I crammed stuff there.”

“B-b-but trash goes in the garbage can. That’s not fair.” His high-pitched wail sends me into another fit of laughter.

“Oh, lil bro, it’s a good thing you didn’t plan a life of crime. A first-day-in-the-academy cadet would’ve caught you.”

His lip comes out even farther, which is hysterical, and he mumbles, “Whatever. I still say that’s not fair. You were cheating. Mom always said the garbage can was the only place for trash. You cheated.”

“Holds, we were already eating stolen snacks. Why in the world would I have been concerned about disposing of the evidence in the proper container? You’re hilarious.”

“And you, Mr. Smarty Pants, didnotdistract me from my original question. What’s wrong today?”

Huh. He’s right. I didn’t distract him, but he’s wrong about one thing. I wasn’t purposefully avoiding the question anymore. I really was enjoying the memory. “It’s not a big deal. I feel guilty because you only have so much time off between your job and your volunteer work, and you waste it sitting up here with me.”

With a fierceness I’d only ever seen him show toward protecting an animal, he says, “I’m not wasting anything being here with you. You’re the reason I came home. Our time together means everything to me, and I don’t care if it’s here or somewhere else. We missed out on too many years together, and I’m not missing another minute.”

My eyes water again, and not from laughter. Not quite ready to wade into the depths of emotional baggage we need to unpack, I ask, “How is Gavin, by the way?”

A strange expression I can’t interpret quickly crosses his face. “He’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“He was upset when he left here last night,” I say, quickly adding, “And it wasn’t my fault. We were actually… I don’t know… getting along, I guess. As much as you can get along with someone who makes you sweep from a bed, anyway. And then he got… distant. It was like a switch flipped or something. One minute the guy was giving me a hard time and you know, encouraging me, showing me I can do more than I thought I could from this damn bed, and the next he was going through the motions.”

“I’m sure it was your imagination. You’re his last patient of the day, right? Maybe he got tired all of a sudden.” He picks at his pants as he speaks, then brightening, he refocuses on me and says, “But you were having a good day, huh? You’re finally starting to be able to tell a difference with your treatment?”

I hesitate, wanting to push him and find out what he knows about Gavin. Deciding not to, knowing this is his best friend and maybe there are confidences here that are none of my business—and why in the hell does that bother me?—I say, “No, I was having a spectacularly horrific day. I couldn’t reach my sudoku book, I hurt myself trying, then I threw a temper tantrum and expected someone else to clean it up, and Gavin made me do it myself. And I did, for the most part, anyway, with some help from him, of course.”

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