Page 27 of You, with a View

Paul sets a bottle of water in front of each of us. We all murmur our thanks, then lapse into silence. For a full minute, the only sound is Paul humming to himself and the crinkle of paper as he shuffles through letters.

Thomas and Sadie are full-on staring at me now. My heart is pounding with purpose and anticipation, and anxiety, too.

My gaze locks with Thomas’s. He watches me with eyes the same color as Dad’s, and I remember the look inhiseyes when I came up with this ridiculous plan. The hope there, and the happiness. Like I’m finally pulling myself out of whatever black pit I sank into when Gram died.

It’s not just that I want to go. It’s that everyoneelsewants me to. If this doesn’t work, it’ll be another failure. And in some way, it’ll feel like losing another piece of Gram, one I’ve regained since her death.

“Hey, Paul,” I say, licking my lips, my attention still tethered to my brother. Thomas nods, just once. There’s something like hope in his eyes, too.

“Yes?”

I turn, squinting up against the sun haloing Paul’s head. “Um, I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

He lowers himself into the chair at the head of the table, his expression open but touched with concern. “Of course, Noelle. What is it?”

“It’s about the map. Your honeymoon trip, actually.”

“All right,” he says slowly.

I open my mouth to justsay it, but it gets stuck in my throat. I hate that I’ve become so afraid of not succeeding that even in this moment, I can’t go after what I want. “Would it be possible to look at it again?”

“Sure.” Paul pulls the box closer, tips it so he can look inside while seated. He pulls the map out and hands it to me.

Thomas and Sadie shift all of the various photos and mementos out of the way so I can lay the map flat. They don’t say anything, but Thomas moves a finger over the writing at the top, his expression turning solemn. Since Gram died, he’s shed his fair share of tears. She was the source of joy who lit us all up; the group text thread with my uncles’ families is an ongoing testament to that.

Paul’s chair creaks as he leans forward. His eyes lock onto mine. They’re Theo’s color but kinder, full of an emotion I feel echoing in the empty parts of my chest. He’s known grief, and he’s showing it to me.

I press my palm flat on the paper. “I want to go on this trip.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he recovers quickly. “Oh?”

I nod. “I’d love to borrow the map, but if you don’t want to part with it, I understand. So maybe I could take notes or pictures of it—”

“You can have it, Noelle,” he says gently.

“Oh. Wow, okay, thank you,” I stutter out. “Could you tell me what your plans were? There are lots of places circled here, but I’d love to know if there are certain things you wanted to do, so maybe I can do them, too.” I swallow, suddenly breathless withthe weight of all of my emotions. Everything is sitting on my chest: relief, unbearable sadness, hope. All of them the same weight in different ways. “I’m going to take my camera. I’d love to take some of the pictures you would have. They won’t be as good as yours, obviously, but...” I lift my shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I think this might help. Nothing else has.”

Paul looks at me for a long moment, his eyes traveling over my face like I have my own map plotted out there. His fingers are intertwined, resting on the table between us. I fight the urge to reach across the table and cover his hands with mine, beg him to give me his blessing. Beg him to give me his stories before I go.

I hold my breath, my heart racing. I need this to work, for so many reasons all tangled up together.

His hands reach out to take mine, as if he knows I need the grounding touch. Finally, he says, “I have a better idea. Like I said, you can take the map. But I’d like you to take me, too.”

Nine

It’s so quiet I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. So quiet that Thomas’s and Sadie’s surprised inhales sound like a hurricane.

I don’t get a chance to process what Paul’s just proposed, let alone respond. My attention is stolen by the sound of a slamming door, then a shadowy figure storming through the living room, head down, shoulders tight and high.

My heart picks up a frantic pace as Theo roughly slides open the screen door.

“I’m fucking done with them—” He looks up from his phone, and I swear his soul exits his body when our eyes meet. His heel slips, and he grips onto the doorframe to keep himself from falling on his ass, pressing his phone over his heart. “JesusfuckingChrist, what are you doing here?”

He’s looking at all of us, but clearly talking to me.

Sadie turns in her seat, her eyes going comically wide. I’ve shown her pictures of Theo, but he is a million times more potent in person.“Wow.”

“Yeah, that’s a universal reaction,” Thomas murmurs, throwing Theo a wave over his shoulder. “Hey, man.”