sandwiches are turkey and cheese complete with lettuce and tomato. There’s even a couple containers of yogurt at the bottom with attached bags of granola.
“Your mom turn into a health nut or something?” I ask as I unload the last of it.
“Or something,” Casey says quietly.
Shit. Her mom probably is concerned about eating healthy given what happened to Mr. Evans. Why do I always stick my foot in my mouth?
“It’ll get easier, Case.” She looks up at me in question. “Him being gone. It’ll probably always be difficult, but it’ll get easier.”
She gives me a small smile and nods. “I’m starved, let’s eat.”
We’re silent for the rest of our time on the riverbank, just eating our lunch and watching the birds fly over the water, occasionally swooping down to catch a fish. They’re doing a better job than us. Every now and again I catch these shadows in Casey’s eyes, like there is something haunting her. It could just be the guilt of not being with her dad when he passed, but something tells me it’s more than that. I just wish she’d trust me enough to let me in. The old Casey did.
***
When we get back, I back into the Evans’ driveway so I can return the boat. As we’re unloading Casey’s gear, my dad walks up.
“Hey, kids, catch anything?” he asks.
“Hey, Mr. Abrams,” Casey smiles. “Actually, we did!” She bounces on her toes with her excitement and, for a moment, I catch a glimpse of the girl I used to know.
“Oh yeah?” My dad’s whole face lights up. He loves fresh catch. “What’ve we got?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.
“Drums and bass,” I tell him as I pop open the cooler and show him the fish.
“Whoa, you kids did well. I’ll fire up the grill,” he says and then turns to Casey. “Go get your momma and come on over.”
“Okay, but I’m gonna shower first.”
“Take your time, darlin’,” my dad tells her, and she smiles and waves as she runs off to her house, just like she would have done years ago. Once she’s out of earshot, he turns back to me. “How’s she doing?”
I shrug, “I don’t know, Dad. One minute she’s laughing and the next minute it’s like she’s in another place. She won’t really talk to me about anything. Sticks to safe topics like memories or school.”
He pats my back, “Just be there for her, son. It’s all you can do.” He looks back up to the Evans’ house, shakes his head, and then looks back at me with a depressing look on his face. “Poor kid. She’s had a rough time, Deck. Just be her friend. I think she needs that.”
My dad helps me unhitch the boat and then drives my truck back over to the house so he can get started on the fish. I rinse off the boat and think about what he said. Just be her friend. When have I ever not been her friend? Why would that ever change? Even when I’ve been at my angriest with her for leaving, I still would have given anything for just one more minute with her.
***
Dinner is a blast. My dad grilled the fish to perfection and my mom and Mrs. Evans made a green salad and potato salad and Mom fried up some okra and French fries. It’s the first time Casey and I have had a cookout together with our parents where we are old enough to have alcohol, and, consequently, the wine and beer are flowing. But it isn’t lost on anyone that it’s also the first family cookout without Mr. Evans.
We all laugh and share stories. Some are oldies but goodies and others we’d never shared before. I share a few funny stories from some of the road trips I’d taken with the team and Casey shares some of her tales from California. It’s obvious that she loves it there, and she’s such a great storyteller that I’m at the edge of my seat the entire time she’s speaking. Or maybe it’s that she’s finally speaking freely, and I desperately need to soak it all in.
Either way, the night is perfect.
Chapter Eleven
Casey
A few days after
“Your mom turn into a health nut or something?” I ask as I unload the last of it.
“Or something,” Casey says quietly.
Shit. Her mom probably is concerned about eating healthy given what happened to Mr. Evans. Why do I always stick my foot in my mouth?
“It’ll get easier, Case.” She looks up at me in question. “Him being gone. It’ll probably always be difficult, but it’ll get easier.”
She gives me a small smile and nods. “I’m starved, let’s eat.”
We’re silent for the rest of our time on the riverbank, just eating our lunch and watching the birds fly over the water, occasionally swooping down to catch a fish. They’re doing a better job than us. Every now and again I catch these shadows in Casey’s eyes, like there is something haunting her. It could just be the guilt of not being with her dad when he passed, but something tells me it’s more than that. I just wish she’d trust me enough to let me in. The old Casey did.
***
When we get back, I back into the Evans’ driveway so I can return the boat. As we’re unloading Casey’s gear, my dad walks up.
“Hey, kids, catch anything?” he asks.
“Hey, Mr. Abrams,” Casey smiles. “Actually, we did!” She bounces on her toes with her excitement and, for a moment, I catch a glimpse of the girl I used to know.
“Oh yeah?” My dad’s whole face lights up. He loves fresh catch. “What’ve we got?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.
“Drums and bass,” I tell him as I pop open the cooler and show him the fish.
“Whoa, you kids did well. I’ll fire up the grill,” he says and then turns to Casey. “Go get your momma and come on over.”
“Okay, but I’m gonna shower first.”
“Take your time, darlin’,” my dad tells her, and she smiles and waves as she runs off to her house, just like she would have done years ago. Once she’s out of earshot, he turns back to me. “How’s she doing?”
I shrug, “I don’t know, Dad. One minute she’s laughing and the next minute it’s like she’s in another place. She won’t really talk to me about anything. Sticks to safe topics like memories or school.”
He pats my back, “Just be there for her, son. It’s all you can do.” He looks back up to the Evans’ house, shakes his head, and then looks back at me with a depressing look on his face. “Poor kid. She’s had a rough time, Deck. Just be her friend. I think she needs that.”
My dad helps me unhitch the boat and then drives my truck back over to the house so he can get started on the fish. I rinse off the boat and think about what he said. Just be her friend. When have I ever not been her friend? Why would that ever change? Even when I’ve been at my angriest with her for leaving, I still would have given anything for just one more minute with her.
***
Dinner is a blast. My dad grilled the fish to perfection and my mom and Mrs. Evans made a green salad and potato salad and Mom fried up some okra and French fries. It’s the first time Casey and I have had a cookout together with our parents where we are old enough to have alcohol, and, consequently, the wine and beer are flowing. But it isn’t lost on anyone that it’s also the first family cookout without Mr. Evans.
We all laugh and share stories. Some are oldies but goodies and others we’d never shared before. I share a few funny stories from some of the road trips I’d taken with the team and Casey shares some of her tales from California. It’s obvious that she loves it there, and she’s such a great storyteller that I’m at the edge of my seat the entire time she’s speaking. Or maybe it’s that she’s finally speaking freely, and I desperately need to soak it all in.
Either way, the night is perfect.
Chapter Eleven
Casey
A few days after
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