Page 20 of Part & Parcel

“Yeah, we’ll mix alcohol and my painkillers and see who goes into shock first.”

Ty laughed, the sound clear as a bell and somehow soothing to Nick’s aching soul. “It’d be just like Tijuana that one time,” he said, and they shared a groan at the memory. After a few thoughtful seconds passed, Ty asked, “What time is the game?”

“Day game, starts at one. I thought we’d head straight to Fenway; we can soak in the opening day shenanigans.”

Ty was grinning when Nick glanced over at him. “Sox and Orioles on Opening Day right after we both barely live through something,” he mused, reaching up to press the button that would open the sunroof. The sunshine streamed in, along with a salty breeze that smelled of spring, and Ty turned his face up to meet it. “Fate.”

He put his fingers through the sunroof, basking in the warmth on his face. His evil cackle was music to Nick’s ears.

Several hours later they’d made their way through traffic and the noontime excitement that was Fenway on the Red Sox home opener. It was the seventh game of the season, and the Sox were four and two. Boston was buzzing.

Nick was buzzing too, but not exactly with excitement. Every time he let his mind drift, it immediately went to Kelly and made his heart ache like he was physically sick. He’d spent the last couple days keeping as busy as he possibly could, or taking enough of his painkillers that he didn’t feel or think about anything. It was an unhealthy spiral, but at least he knew it.

He’d told Ty as much on the phone two nights ago, and that was how they’d wound up here together, just the two of them. He hadn’t asked Ty to come stay with him for the week. But he hadn’t needed to ask.

Ty was a step ahead of him as they made their way to the front-row seats Kelly had managed to acquire for the home opener, giant plastic souvenir cups of beer in each hand. It was only a couple of flights of stairs, but to Nick it looked daunting. Ty was letting him hold on to his shoulder, even though Nick knew Ty was still supposed to be in a sling after blowing up half of Miami.

When they got to their seats, Ty was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, the field reflecting in his aviators. He helped Nick get settled, both of them laughing at how grumbly and creaky they were.

“Tell you what, Irish, I never thought either of us would be this old,” Ty said as he hefted one foot up on the wall in front of them.

“That makes two of us.” Nick slouched with a grimace. “Do you know what you’d do with your favorite belongings if you died?”

“What?”

“I was just . . . I finally got out that box of Eli’s stuff, the one his mom gave me. His whole life boiled down to just one box of his favorite things, sitting on a shelf on theFiddler. And I’ve been fucking fixating on it for days now.”

He glanced at Ty when Ty didn’t answer, only to find Ty gazing off into the distance, a frown marring his features, nodding to some unheard rhythm. He finally shook his head. “I don’t know what I would put in a box like that,” he admitted.

“Me either.”

“What’s in it?”

Nick swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I got as far as Seymour and a stack of letters he wrote before it got too hard.”

“Oh God, Seymour.” Ty grinned as his eyes lit up. “I’d forgotten about him!”

“You want to go through it with me?”

“Yeah,” Ty said immediately, tapping Nick’s knee with his fist. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Nick nodded and shifted around to get more comfortable, situating his cane between his legs as he crossed one foot over the other.

“That the cane Sanchez gave you when you got hit with the shrapnel?” Ty asked. Their elbows brushed as they both got settled, but it was once again a familiar feeling. For a while there, Nick’s relationship with Ty had been stilted and awkward. The relief he’d felt when they’d begun to straighten things out couldn’t be measured in words.

Nick tapped the toe of his boot with the cane. “Yeah.”

“Does Doc know what you can do with that thing?” Ty asked carefully.

Nick shrugged, wincing as he gazed at the outfield and the bright green grass. “I don’t know. Why?”

“He wasn’t around when you took that shrapnel. He never saw you with the cane.”

“What’s your point, Tyler?” Nick asked, smiling to soften the blow of his question. He didn’t fucking want to talk about Kelly, but he also knew Ty was here to help him. Ty couldn’t really do a lot for him if they never talked about Kelly.

Ty shifted in his seat. “I don’t know. Just think he’d like to know what you can do with it.”

“Why?”

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