Dad puts down his cup and approaches the kitchen table. And after so many years, he takes me in his arms tightly and presses me to his chest. I suddenly feel small again, like the child I once was—back when I needed his comfort, and he couldn’t be there for me.
“I know how bad missing him and longing for him can be, sweetheart,” he says quietly, without letting go. He holds me as tightly as he can, and that’s another thing River did for me.
I cry in my dad’s arms, feeling how much all of this connects us.
The missing. The longing. The love.
It’s truly bizarre.
River would have liked it.
Epilogue
This year’s winter is breaking the record on the minus scale. The media are reporting that Minnesota is the nation’s icebox. The jet stream is apparently responsible for the icy polar air from Canada, and it’s supposedly not abnormal. Nevertheless, you hear something here and there about climate change and the ice age. A real doomsday mood prevails.
In the attic, Arizona and I unpack our thickest hats, gloves, and boots, and even find our old Santa hats. We eat a chocolate kiss with our hands clasped behind our backs, then take a selfie with our heads together—just like when we were five—and send it to James. He sends back an eye roll because he’s a bit jealous of our togetherness now.
Everything has changed.
I’m now going to Jackson High. I have a lot of work to catch up on, and I have more classes than everyone else. But at least it distracts me from River as well as the fuss that’s being made over me. I’m a fixed star here, but most girls just want to be friends with me because I kissed Asher Blackwell and more. And some boys, on the other hand, hardly dare to talk to me because they don’t like to compete with an icon. But whateverit is, it’s better than sitting in a cupboard in the basement at lunchtime or hiding in a smelly toilet, better than being punched and or submerged in buckets of water. Most of the time, I hang out with Arizona and her friends. After school, we often go to Dan Applebee’s Burger & Grill—the former trendy hangout in Kensington Hills, which is now owned by the Jacksons.
I know that, despite all the attention, I will always be a satellite at heart, a moon, but that’s not a bad thing. There are people like Dad and me who are simply more serious and quiet, who don’t have to shine all the time and stay in the background. And there are people who talk a lot yet say nothing. That’s what Tom said in Woods Crossing—the hippie guy who read my cards. Now, a few months later, I know from the news his name wasn’t really Tom, but Ben. Ben Adams. That explains the gun, of course. I actually called the police and told them about the incident in the motel. I told them that Ben Adams helped me. Obviously, I didn’t just call because of him, but because I wanted to report Jack and John, even if there is only my and Ben Adams’ testimony.
It all still seems surreal to me. Somehow, this whole crazy, terrible, and beautiful summer was shaped bythe power of masks.Hardly anyone was who they truly were—not even me. And yet, in the end, I found myself again. Somewhere in the middle of the silence and the words, the sadness and the happiness. Or maybe on the highline, between heaven and earth, above the abyss, when I was closer to myself than ever before.
Today, I’m not going to Dan Applebee’s with the others. Instead, I have Arizona drop me off on the outskirts of town. “I have to do something,” I say as I get out in the parking lot below Old Sheriff.
“Can’t I come with you?” Arizona asks.
“No, I have to do it alone.”
“Is it because of him?” She looks at me from the driver’s seat, the engine still running.
I nod.
“Kans, you’re not doing anything stupid up there, are you?” For a moment, tears gather in her eyes. This sentimentality is new, as is her constant worrying about me. Strangely, it feels good.
I smile at her and shake my head. “Of course not.”
“I could wait for you here.”
“No, I need time. I’ll walk home. I... I just have to say goodbye properly, you know. Ceremonial and all.”
“Okay.” She says that a lot, too. Everything I do is suddenly okay. She smiles. “See you later, alligator.” Suddenly, she seems almost exuberant.
I raise my hand. “After a while, crocodile.” Parting words—I really hate them.
“Don’t forget, James is getting the Christmas tree today.” Arizona pulls her hat over her ears and turns up the car heater. “We’ll decorate it together—the tree, not James.” She grins. “I even made a moose for the top. And don’t you dare say anything against him. Not a word about how Mom always insisted on a star.”
Mom.That woman is so far removed from my life, it’s like she never played a role. For a while, I considered flushing her photo down the toilet, but I ended up giving it back to Dad. He didn’t seem particularly surprised, like he knew I had it. Just like he knew about the kitchen table. I don’t know how much easier everything would have been if we’d talked to each other sooner.
“Kansas Montgomery!”
I blink. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not listening to me!”
“I’m sorry, Ari. What is it?”
