Page 43 of Dove
Me, because it made me ache from missing him too much. Her, because I believed it helped her move on.
I didn’t want to move on. I wanted to curl up in the hole his death created in my world and never forget him. But even though I would never forgethim, the details were growing fuzzy. It was hard to remember the exact cadence of his voice, the depth of his laughter, or how good his strong hugs had felt when he’d greeted me after I’d come home from school. The only thing I could never forget was the shade of his eyes; all I had to do was look in the mirror, and it was like he was staring straight back.
I chuckled. “Quite the surprise, obviously, so their name choice didn’t make much sense once they found out I was a girl. But my dad said he took one look at me and wanted me to have a part of him, like he’d been willing to give me when he thought I was a boy.”
Thankfully, I didn’t feel the prick of tears like I imagined I would, telling this story. Was this growth, I wondered. Something to tell my therapist at our next meeting? Or was it because I felt so safe in Josh’s presence, the sadness didn’t have the chance to grab hold of me?
Either way, I continued after a steadying breathe, glad I wasn’t a teary mess.
“So, he named me Dove—which is nothing like Donovon—but he pulled letters from his first and middle name to make it, so I guess that was close enough for him.” I shrugged, the blanket bunching beneath me. “So, yeah…” I trailed off, a little lamely. “That’s the story behind ‘why Dove.’”
Josh was silent, but the world around us wasn’t. An owl hooted faintly somewhere deeper in the forest, a frog croaked before plopping into the water, and the leaves whispered softly in the wind.
“That’s beautiful,” Josh finally said, voice thick with honesty. “Your dad really loved you.” He had every reason in the world to be bitter about that, but he wasn’t. Instead, there was something wistful in the way the words left his mouth, a quiet kind of envy.
“Yeah.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, that prickle present behind my eyes.Damn you, Josh!I didn’t want to cry.“He did.”
We sat there, watching the sky again, both of us silent.
“What’s your?—”
“Isn’t it my turn to ask a question?” I interrupted him, turning to throw him a tiny, playful glare. “You already got one.”
He shook his head, amused. “It’s not a game, Dove.”
“So? That doesn’t mean you get to hog all the questions.”
He glanced out the corner of his eye at me. “Does that mean you have a question lined up?”
Yes.It sprung instantly to my head.Why do you and your dad not get along?
My mouth opened, then closed, as I reconsidered. I couldn’t ask it. Iwouldn’task it. Because despite my curiosity, I had a hunch on what his answer would be.
He shifted so he could look at me better, the raise of his eyebrows sightly visible in the light of the moon. “Now I’m curious.”
I shook my head, settling back down on my back to avoid the intensity of Josh’s inquisitive stare. “No, go ahead.” I waved at the air in front of me. “Ask your question, I’ll think of one.”
His eyes stayed pinned to the side of my face until he finally reclined back into his earlier position.
“What’s your biggest fear?”
“Spiders,” I answered automatically without thinking about it because it reallyhadbeen one of my fears. Back when I was younger, there was nothing more terrifying than seeing a spider in the house, or even worse, believing one to be on me. But after everything I’d been through, and living on a farm, no less, it seemed kind of silly to fear a creature smaller than you. Despite how creepy they looked, they were more scared of us giants, I imagined. And rightfully so.
When my response didn’t inspire a reply from Josh, I wondered if he found my answer boring. That was until Josh’s deep, hushed voice broke the silence.
“There’s only one rule while we’re here, Dove.”
I turned my head to glance at him. He kept his stare skyward.
“And what’s that?” I asked, curious.
A few beats of silence, then he was turning his head to meet my gaze. “While were here, in this truck, we’re honest with each other. No lies.”
No lies.My stomach twisted.
“All right,” I agreed, sounding surer than I felt. “No lies.”
Then I guess my answer needed a bit of modifying, I supposed. I hadn’tmeantto lie to Josh, I just… I wasn’t used to talking about these kinds of things with anyone but my therapist. It’d been hard enough mentioning my dad, nowthis?
