Page 101 of The Summer I Destroyed You

“I told you to throw it out!” I gasp.

He grins. “Sometimes your ideas are bad. And I ignore them.”

I reach for the key and then hesitate. “He was working for some kind of gang. What if there’s a human hand in there? Or fingers? What if it’s something they were after?”

Liam’s smile is gentle. “I’m a little troubled by the way your mind always goes to severed limbs.”

He unwraps the key from its packaging, fits it into the lock, and slides the box to me. “Open it, Em. It’s pretty clear your dad loved you. I’m guessing it’s not a hand.”

Gingerly, I unlock the box. It’s full of papers, with a small note on top.

Emmy,

If you’re opening this, it means my plan to get us out of here safely didn’t work, and for that I’m so sorry. I’ve saved every drawing and card you ever made me. I’m taking a few on the trip and leaving the rest behind in case things don’t work out. I just want you to know that being your father was my greatest joy and my greatest accomplishment. And I’m so sorry I got us into this mess.

Love,

Dad

Beneath it are drawings I made of the two of us. Lifting sandbags, eating donuts. Stick figures shivering after doing the polar bear plunge on New Year’s Day, stick figures riding the redwood train. There are cards I made him for every occasion, and stupid little kid certificates I won. The second-grade math championship. A newspaper clip of me holding a winning science project aloft.

None of these things mattered to my mother. She was annoyed by the cards I brought home from school. More of this glitter crap, she’d say. I’d see them at the top of the trash can later.

But they all mattered to my dad.

I swallow hard, fighting tears as I look at Liam. My father’s final gift to me was simply letting me know he cared.

And it’s enough.

48

EMMY

One week later, we leave Snowflake in Chloe’s care and fly into Newark to get my condo ready for the movers. While I haven’t agreed to stay in Elliott Springs forever, I can see myself being in California for the next year, so I’m going to rent my condo out for a while and see how it goes.

I’m starting to not mind my old hometown quite as much as I once did. Jeannie has proven incapable of keeping her mouth shut, so an increasing number of residents know I helped both her and Liam—which means business owners are asking me for advice, and strangers smile at me as I walk down the street. The last bit seems like overkill, but I guess it’s all right. I once loved my anonymity in New York City, but I might actually enjoy my lack of anonymity even more.

Even Bradley smiles, in a half-assed Bradley sort of way. The angel she received from my dad only held a note of apology and a promise that he was going to try to make things right. She groused about it, but it also seemed to settle some anger she held toward him and me. I’m slowly getting over the anger I felt toward her too. If I had to choose one outcome, her life or mine, I’d definitely take mine.

Liam is the bright spot that makes everything else worthwhile—although he’s become progressively less chipper since the New York City skyline came into view.

“What’s up?” I ask. “It’s too late to decide helping people move sucks, you know.”

His returning smile is small. Forced. “I’m worried you’re going to miss it.”

“The majestic beauty of the New Jersey Turnpike makes you wonder if I’m going to miss the city?”

“I’ve been to New York City before, Em. There’s slightly more to it.”

What really worries him, I think, is that I’ve left this open-ended. I’ll still own the condo. I can always change my mind. And he’s right—there is more to it. I know that there will be quiet mornings when I walk the streets of Elliott Springs and long for slightly more chaos. There will be nights when I long for more opportunity—I never ate Thai food at three a.m., but I liked knowing I could.

But those joys are nothing compared to the joy of my life as it is now—of waking up next to Liam and describing how I’ll kill the rooster, mostly to make him laugh and in part because I want to kill the rooster. Or being home at night when he arrives and pulls me close, as if he’s missed me too.

For every single thing I liked about my life up here, there’s a counterpoint in Elliott Springs—Liam—and it’s always better. It’s one I don’t just like but love.

“I bet you missed home when you left for college, right?” I ask. I didn’t, but most people do. “But you were also so happy at school that you didn’t think about it much. Well, that’s New York for me. What I have in its place is so much better that there’s almost no space inside me to miss it. I had something I liked. Now I’ve got someone I love. And that’s entirely different.”

“It’s about fucking time you said it,” he grumbles, squeezing my hand tight.

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