Page 14 of The Grief We Hold

“Do they cost a lot of money?”

“They do.” Even though the guy who sold it to me gave me a discount just to get me off his drive and out of his neighborhood. Or maybe it was the fact I rocked up with three of my brothers, all in our cuts, clearly carrying weapons.

“Do you like cats?” he asks.

I glance into my rearview mirror to look at him, but he’s drawing something in the condensation of the window. Great. Now I’m gonna have to clean the windows, again, after I just had it detailed.

“No. I don’t like cats. Or dogs. Or lizards. Or any other kind of pets.”

“Oh.”

I hate that there’s actual fucking sadness in the single word.

I pull up outside the hardware store and take a look at Raven. She looks gray with pale blue circles beneath her eyes. Her cheeks are a little sunken, and a part of me wants to touch them to see if they’re cool or hot to the touch.

Just to see if she has a fever, not because I want to see if they’re as soft as I imagine.

“Fuck me,” I curse.

“That’s a bad word,” the kid says.

“No shit. Where does your mom keep the key to the house?”

He releases the seat belt and wiggles forward so he’s peering between me and Raven. Little fingers point towards her pocket. “Probably there. She always has a small packet of tissues too. And sometimes gum, but only peppermint because she hates wintergreen.”

I fish around in it gently until I find the key.

Raven rustles but doesn’t wake up.

Should just give her a quick shove. Wake her up. Let her get the two of them inside and just leave them to it.

Fuck it.

“I’m gonna open the front door, and you’re gonna get up those stairs. Then I’m gonna bring your mom in.”

“You promise?” He looks distressed at the idea of leaving her with me, as if he might never see her again if he does.

The kid has guileless eyes, and it’s hard to look at him for too long. I put a hand on his shoulder for a second and squeeze gently. “Promise.”

Thankfully, the rain is easing as I jump out of the truck. Once the door to their apartment is open, I stride back and reach for the rear door to let the kid out.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“It’s Wraith.”

“Wraith. Wraith. Wraith.” He rolls the word around in his mouth over and over. The final one is long and drawn out. “I’m Fen.” He offers me his hand to shake.

The man in me responds to the genuine offer. His little fingers are cold, and I wonder if I should have turned the heat up in the truck a little higher.

“In you go, kid.”

I don’t know why I don’t use his name. It just seems…wrong.

He takes off his coat and hangs it on one of the two hooks in the hall. Then he skips up the stairs, obviously happy to be home.

I turn back to the truck and look at Raven inside. She matches the aesthetic of my truck. Black hair and silver jewelry. And it irritates me.

I pull the door open and reach across Raven to release her seat belt. She murmurs but doesn’t properly wake. It takes a moment, but I manage to get my hands beneath her such that I can lift her out of the truck.

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