Page 59 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“The snow!” she said, laughing. “It’s a frozen ocean and we’re stuck in the middle of it.” She pointed over my shoulder and I turned to look out the foggy, rectangular window in our cabin. “And you know where all this snow is going to end up when it melts? It’s going to trickle down the side of these ravines, and land in a brook. Then it’s going to slide over rocks and plants and dirt, and it’s going to end up in that very same ocean we were supposed to be sailing in.”

Holy shit. My eyes snapped back to hers. I was going to get whiplash. But . . .

“They’ll never let us off the train.”

She dropped the letter on the bed and reached for her jeans. “We’ll just explain it to them.”

I caught her hand. “No way. I’m not playing the dead brother card.”

Brit shook her head and giggled. “Okay, Nicky. Just remember, you’re the one who wanted to lie.”

“You can’t be serious.” My elbow banged off of the wall as Brit tugged me down the narrow hallway to the next car. She sucked in air, faking these huge gasps, and she’d somehow made real tears spring from her eyes on command.

“Go with it or it won’t work.” She flagged down a man in a conductor coat and hat. “Sir!”

“Yes? Is everything all right?” His wide eyes bounced from a now-hysterical Brit to me. I summoned everything I had to turn my face into a mask of grave concern.

“I’m . . . I’m . . .” She tossed me a look over her shoulder that said,Your line, idiot.

“She’s feeling claustrophobic,” I supplied on cue.

Brit winked at me then went back to gasping. “I cannot spend another minute on this train, sir!”

She pressed her hand to her forehead and swayed, her voice turning vaguely Southern. Sort of Scarlett O’Hara-ish. This performance was confusing. Maybe that was her angle.

“I need some fresh air. Please. Can we get off for just a few minutes?” She fell back onto my chest dramatically and I barely caught her.

The guy was shaking his head before she even finished. “I’m sorry, miss. I can’t let you off of the train. It’s dark and we’re surrounded by forest. I can page a nurse?”

“She just needs a few minutes,” I said. His eyes swung to me in commiseration while Brit ramped up her tears. “I’ll go with her. We’ll be right there where the lights from the window are. We won’t go anywhere else.”

I clutched the tin in my pocket and Brit started rocking back and forth on her heels, still breathing weird. She pretended to sob.

She had him. He looked over his shoulder to make sure we were alone. “Fine,” he said. “Make it quick. I could get in serious trouble for this.”

He opened the exit door and Brit darted for it. I chased her down the stairs, cursing when I jumped from the last step into the crunchy snow. It rushed past my sneakers, freezing my ankles and shins like tiny shards of glass. The air was painfully cold, burning my windpipe with every breath.

Brit was hopping like a rabbit, the snow up to her knees. It was pitch black, except for the lights from the train, and the line of pine trees beyond us creaked and groaned under the weight of the ice and snow.

“Jesus. Come here. It’s freezing.” I jogged to catch up to her, wrapping her up in my arms.

“Are you ready?” she asked. Her breath came out in white clouds, the tip of her nose already bright pink.

“Where should I do it?”

She looked around the sea of white, then pulled me to the crest of a soft slope. She kneeled in the snow and started digging, shaping the crusty top layer into a bowl. “Here. We’ll cover them over so nothing disturbs it.”

I dropped to my knees and pulled out the tin, looking down at Brit like some sort of lifeline. My chest was pounding.

“Do you want me to wait over there?” she asked, pointing behind us.

“No. Please stay.” She nodded and I pulled her into my side, flipping the tin open with one hand. The other dragged down my face.

This is it. I’d been carrying this around for so long, dwelling on the inconvenience of this mission because anger was a softer landing than grief, but now it felt like the last tether I had to Alex was snapping in front of me. I was finally free of this task right when I’d figured out what it had all been about.

My hand shook as I tipped the tin, letting the first gray ashes pour out and pool on the white snow. I hadn’t really let myself think of this dust as my brother. Alex had dark hair like me, but his skin was lighter. He was skinny because building houses with Tom and Drew and I wasn’t an option, but he always felt bigger than me, like his presence just took up more space. Now I was looking down at this ant hill and realizing this was his last physical presence on this earth. It stole my breath how much that hurt.

I closed my eyes and bit back the ball of emotion in my throat. I knew I should say something. I wasn’t sure I could put anything I felt into words, but I couldn’t let this moment pass with my usual silence—I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

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