JUNE 24, 1995
OVER A MONTH HAD PASSED SINCE THE FUNERAL, BUT SADNESS WAS ALL AROUND US. Like a monster, it swept everyone up and gobbled them whole.
I wanted to help Gibsie, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure of the words I needed to say, or if he even wanted to hear them. I knew I wouldn’t have. If my mother got swept out to sea, I wouldn’t ever want to wake up again.
It made me so sad to think that Gibs couldn’t ever get his daddy and sister back. My daddy and sister were always cross with me, but I still got to see them every day, while Gibsie would never see his again.
He went back to school right after, which I thought was so brave. Claire said he could have taken the rest of the school year off, but he didn’t do that. Instead, he got back up and faced the day. It made me proud to be his friend. It made me think I could be brave like him someday, too.
Since the funeral, Caoimhe spent a lot more time babysitting Claire and Hugh because Pete was so sad and Sinead needed the help.
Gibsie’s daddy was Hugh’s daddy’s best friend since primary school, and Pete didn’t want to get out of bed anymore. Not with his bestest friend in the world up in heaven.
Sinead told me that I could come over whenever my sister was babysitting because it was good for her kids to have their friends around them.
I happily agreed because I didn’t want to be away from any of them, including Gibsie, who spent most of his time at their house.
When Dad dropped Caoimhe to Avoca Greystones this morning for her babysitting shift, I made sure I was right there with her.
Clambering up the familiar staircase, I skipped down the landing, making a beeline to Claire’s bedroom door, only to hesitate when I reached it.
Because something deep inside was telling me to go to the other door.
Go to Hugh.
I couldn’t explain what that was, but it was strong and forceful and willing me to put one foot in front of the other.
I thought about knocking but decided against it, twisting the doorknob and slipping inside instead.
Glancing around his bedroom, I felt a little dizzy. Giddy even. It felt like I had stepped into someone’s “good room” and I wasn’t supposed to touch any of the shiny crystalware, but I wanted to.
That’s what Hugh’s bedroom always felt like to me.
I wanted to touch everything.
All his books and trophies and Lego.
Even when I wasn’t supposed to.
He had a signed jersey framed over his bed, with Roy Keane’s signature on it, and I thought that might be his most important possession.
I wanted to touch that most of all.
He was tidier than Claire. Everything had a place in Hugh’s room. It was almost bare in comparison to the countless dolls, stuffed animals, and toys that lined the walls of Claire’s room. He was simplistic and structured.
His smell was all around me and it was my favorite smell in the whole world.
Soap, grass, strawberries, and Hugh.
Closing the space between me and the bed, I trailed my fingertips over the Hugh-shaped figure beneath the duvet. “It’s me.”
Silence greeted me.
Sighing sadly, I glanced out the window next, peering at the house across the street, before returning my attention to the boy under the duvet.
Wordlessly, I kicked off my sandals and smoothed a hand over where I thought his cheek might be before reaching for the covers.
Peeling them back, I quickly climbed in beside him and covered us back up, concealing us from the summer sunshine. “Hi.”
This time he answered. “Hi.”
Nestling in close to his warm body, I rested on my side, facing him.
Even though he was doing his very best to cloak himself in darkness, sunlight still managed to beam its way through, cloaking him in a glorious, shiny hue.
Exhaling heavily, I reached up and pressed my hand to his cheek, feeling the wetness from where his tears had dripped.
Sniffling, he reached up and covered my hand with his, never saying a word.
That was the thing about me and Hugh: sometimes we never needed to speak at all.
We just knew what the other was feeling.
Right now, he was sad.
He was so sad because of Joe and Bethany.
But he was even sadder that his dad wasn’t coming out of his bedroom.
You see, Hugh liked to fix problems, and he was usually really good at it, but this was something he couldn’t fix.
It was a problem for the grown-ups, not us kids.
Snuggling in closer, I leaned in close until my nose rubbed against his.
That made him smile.
Another sniffle escaped him, but this one held the air of finality to it, like he was finished crying—or at least he had decided he was.
Removing the hand he was resting on top of mine, he placed it on my cheek instead. “I love you.”
My heart thumped like a drum in my chest because this was the first time he said those words out loud. “You do?”
Nodding slowly, he stroked my cheek with his thumb and exhaled a shaky breath. “I just thought you should know.” A shiver racked through him. “In case anything happens and I don’t get to tell you.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“Maybe nothing.” He exhaled a shaky breath and whispered, “But you never know what tomorrow could bring.”
“I know what tomorrow will bring, Hugh,” I replied. “You and me. Same as yesterday and same as today. Being best friends forever.” Smiling, I leaned in close and brushed his nose with mine. “No matter what.”
“Yeah, Liz.” His lips grew into a small smile. “No matter what.”
