Page 64 of My Return to the Walter Boys
Parker didn’t need to elaborate for me to understand her hesitation, because where would she even start? In the past fifteen minutes,I’d made a complete mess of our shared space. Every dresser drawer was pulled open, clothes strewn about. I’d stripped the bedding off my mattress, dumped the contents of my purse and backpack onto the carpet, and ransacked both the closet and our desks.
My shoulders slumped, and I blinked a few times to hold back tears. Until this moment, I didn’t realize how much hope I had in her miraculously producing my mother’s pendant.
“Have you checked the bathroom?” she asked, picking her way across the floor toward her hamper, where she plucked a shirt off the top, gave it a sniff, and then tossed it aside.
“Yes, along with the den, the kitchen, and the living room,” I said, listing off the spots in the house I frequented.
Parker paused and scratched her temple. “Well, whenever I lose something, my mom tells me to retrace my steps,” she said. “When was the last time you wore it?”
I mentally reviewed the past month. The most recent memory I had of wearing it was at homecoming. If I lost it at school, then I had a terrible feeling I would never see it again. The thought made my heart ache. Could it have fallen off in Cole’s car? In all likelihood, probably not, but I had to check regardless.
After promising to clean up later, I rushed out to the shed where the Buick was parked. The lights were off, so I didn’t notice Nathan sitting in the driver’s seat until I wrenched open the passenger door.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, clutching a hand to my heart. “Nathan, why are you—”
The tears trailing down his cheeks stopped me in my tracks. He didn’t acknowledge me. He just continued to stare out the windshield as he cried, his shoulders shaking. We hadn’t said a word to each other since our fight, and even though I still felt hurt by what he said, I couldn’t walk away when he was so clearly upset.
Without a word, I slid into the car and took Nathan’s hand in mine. He remained unresponsive, but instead of pushing for answers, I kept him company as he wept. Eventually, he ran out of tears, wiped his eyes, and collapsed against the seat like he’d just run a marathon.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and croaky. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole to you, Jackie. You didn’t deserve that.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. Receiving an apology was nice, but I was too preoccupied with figuring out what was wrong to care.
“No, it’s not,” he said, his voice cracking. “You were worried about me, but I was too angry to see that, so I lashed out and said some really shitty things that aren’t true.”
He glanced up at me then, and the expression on his face was so familiar to me that all the oxygen disappeared from my lungs—Nathan wasgrieving.
“Did Cole ever tell you the story about how he got this car?”
The abrupt change of subject startled me into supplying an immediate answer. “Your grandpa gave it to him, right?”
“Yeah, for his sixteenth birthday. You’d never guess it didn’t run by how excited Cole was.” There was a far-off look in Nathan’s eyes, like he was reliving the moment. “My uncle Pete put it in a ditch rightafter getting his license, but Gramps was too sentimental to junk it. All the core memories I have of him are centered around restoring this car in his garage with Cole and Isaac. He gave us lessons while he worked. Of all his grandkids, we were the only ones interested enough to listen. I was too young to learn anything significant, but Cole was a natural.”
“Is that why your grandpa passed the car on to him?” I asked.
Nathan ran a hand over the steering wheel. “I’m sure that’s part of it, but also, Cole was the first of the three of us to turn sixteen.”
“Ah,” I said, as if everything suddenly made sense. It didn’t, but hopefully Nathan would get to the point if I was patient enough.
“When Cole started taking shop his freshman year, he’d come home after school and teach me what he learned in class that day, just like our grandpa had. Isaac lost interest way before then, so it was just the two of us, and that became my favorite part of the day.”
“Huh.” Up until recently, it had been a common sight to see the hood of the Buick popped and Cole leaning over the engine. When I tried to picture Nathan in his place, the image didn’t correlate because I couldn’t visualize him as a mechanic. “I didn’t realize you were into the whole fixing cars thing.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t mind it, but I wouldn’t call it a passion either. For me, it was always about spending time with my brother.”
“Really?” I said. “I never saw you in the shed with him.”
“I stopped going,” he replied. “Cole was so angry after he screwedup his leg, and fixing the car was the only thing that seemed to help, so I figured he could use the time to himself.”
“Okay…” I expected Nathan to continue with his explanation, but he fell silent. I decided to give him a moment to gather his thoughts. As I waited, a million different questions sprang to mind, likeWhy are we talking about Cole?andWhat does the car have to do with anything?The longer the silence stretched, however, the more vacant his gaze became.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Nathan, please—what’s going on?” I pleaded. “Maybe I can help.”
“You can’t.” Fresh tears appeared, and he swiped at his eyes in frustration. “Cole promised to pass the Buick down to me once I learned to drive.”
“What happened?” I asked carefully, making an effort to keep my tone neutral. If all this angst was over a stupid car, I would lose my shit. “Did he change his mind?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head vehemently. “Cole wouldn’t do that.”
