Page 78 of The Book Swap

His words land hard against me, choking me. I want to say that it isn’t true, but I think I’d be lying.

“You know,” says Elliot, looking down at his phone, a photo of Jordan staring back at him. “I’m proud, every single day, that I’m a full-time parent, just like Dad. To me, this is success.” He nods toward the photo. “Raising him. Watching him grow. Being there for him every time he needs me. Do you remember there ever being a moment that we needed Dad and he wasn’t there? Because I don’t. He chose to be there, for everything. I can only hope to be half as good a dad as he was. Is. And I don’t care what you think of it. You make all these digs about me getting a job, or Dad restarting his career. All of that’s on you, not us. I’d put on a Domino’s outfit in a heartbeat if it meant putting food on my son’s plate. I’d clear the streets. I’d clean toilets. When you’re a parent, you do whatever it takes.”

Swallowing, I jig my leg against the ground. It’s true. Dad was there even when I didn’t think I needed him, and always when I did. I don’t know why I didn’t respect that.

“Your view of achievement is so skewed.” Elliot fixes his warm brown eyes on me. They’re just like Mum’s are, when she’s well. “You work your arse off in a job you hate, telling yourself you’re succeeding because you earn good money and you keep getting promoted. Take a risk on what it is you actually want. You can’t have success without some failure, so stop being so afraid of it.”

I don’t know why I’ve spent all these years convincing myself that two years of no contact means my brother doesn’t know me. Doesn’t understand who I am. He sees me more clearly than anyone; he’s just never felt the need to point it out, the way I do. It’s not that he always runs out of words; he just chooses not to use them.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re an amazing dad,” I say, because I should have told him when I visited. I should have told him so many times. “I was in awe in New York. Everything you did for him. It’s... He’s lucky to have you.”

“I know.” That’s the thing about Elliot. He doesn’t need validation the way I do. He never has.

Mum wakes up and Elliot’s on his feet immediately, rushing to her side. Placing a hand on each shoulder to steady her. It is such a relief to have him here. Not to be the only person responsible for Mum.

A doctor appears and speaks to the receptionist, who nods in our direction. All three of us stand and walk toward her.

“He’s had what’s called a non-ST-elevation myocardial infarction. An artery’s partially blocked,” she explains, leading us through the double doors.

“Is he—”

“He’s going to need a lot of rest. A good diet. Short walks every day if he can manage them. Daily blood-thinning medicine. He’ll need to stay here for a coronary angiography.”

“But he’s going to be okay?”

“Would you believe he’s wide-awake right now, singing ‘Do You Know Me?’ to one of the nurses?”

Elliot grins, looking across at me. “Of course he is.”

“No stage performances for him for a while though,” the doctor adds, laughing.

“Oh, there’s no fear of that, don’t worry,” I say, following her into a room where Dad is sitting up, resting against a pillow, linked up to a load of different machines.

“Here they are,” he says, smiling at us before turning to the nurse who’s fiddling with something on his monitor. “My family.” His words ring out with such pride that if I didn’t understand what Elliot was trying to say, I do now. There’s no greater achievement in Dad’s life than us, and there never could be.

Walking toward him, I sit beside the bed and hold his hand.

“Thank you, Dad,” I say, swallowing, and he looks at me, his eyes shining.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he says—and he knows, without me saying more, what I’m thanking him for. “Best job I’ve ever had.”

29

ERIN

“So, to be clear, we don’t hate James now?” Bonnie asks from her chair in the corner of my room.

She’s younger. She’s the Bonnie from school. The Bonnie who wouldn’t leave my side after the first time James hurt me. I want to throw my arms around her. Smell the coconut scent of her skin and the Lush body spray she smothered herself in. I want to feel the comfort of her as she strokes my hair and tells me that it’s all going to be okay. That I’ve always got her.

“I fear it’s quite the opposite,” I say, tracing my finger along his handwriting in the letter.

“Always was,” she says, laughing.

It’s been a few weeks since I saw James outside the hospital. He didn’t tell me everything that was written in the letter before he gave it to me. He let me find out the rest for myself. That he was in love with me. That all of the feelings Charlie felt for Sam in The Perks of Being a Wallflower were the same as how he felt about me. That even if we never ended up together, it was just as I’d said to Mr. Carter that day. That Charlie loving Sam the way he does opens him up. That’s why he grows. It was the same for James, he said. He didn’t just love the book because he related to it. He loved it because it reminded him of me.

I imagine myself reading this letter back at school, after everything that happened. Whether it would have changed anything. Whether I’d have finally known what it would feel like to kiss him. Somehow, because we were always with Bonnie, we never found out, and then the friendship was over.

It’s her yearly fundraiser next month and I’ve got no idea what to dress up as. I’ve been asking her, but she’s remained silent on the matter.

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