Page 62 of Little Pieces of Light

Xander

July

Cassidy’s was bustling with the tail end of an afternoon lunch rush.

I watched Emery glide between tables, her arms laden with food, talking and laughing with her customers.

Her financial aid package had come in, but as soon as school ended, she began working at the diner, making her own money. I’d never seen her happier.

Across from me, Harper sipped her chocolate shake. She’d left town for a few weeks after graduation, but in typical Harper fashion, she hadn’t given us many details. She looked happy, though, and that made me happy.

“It’s been quite a year, hasn’t it?” Harper said.

I nodded. “Yes, yes it has.”

“And quite a summer. I need to get caught up.” Harper raised her brows. “So. California?”

“It seems that way,” I said with a smile, watching Emery laugh with one of her patrons.

In three days, she and I would drive west to California, where Emery would attend UCLA and I’d go to Caltech for my doctorate. It wasn’t the life I’d meticulously planned, but Dean had been right—good things had a way of working themselves out.

Harper’s voice turned gentle. “Emery told me about your mom. Are you okay?”

I toyed with my coffee mug. Seeing my mother after nearly eight years felt like being punched in the face, stomach, and heart, all at the same time. A ghost from my past had reappeared right in front of me, then vanished all over again.

“I have some closure,” I told Harper. “Maybe not the kind I wanted, but the kind I expected.”

“I’m so sorry.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Do you ever think about reaching out to her? Now that you know her secret identity?”

“No,” I said. “She made it clear she’s closed that chapter in her life, so I will too.”

It sounded so simple to say it, but the emotions involved were too complex for a loud diner at lunch rush. I couldn’t move on, but I could move through, and that had to be enough for now.

Emery scooted into the booth beside me. “Last check is dropped.” She slung her arm around my neck and planted a long kiss on my cheek, lingering there, then gazing at me as if she hadn’t seen me in weeks.

“Girl,” Harper said, rolling her eyes.

“I can’t help it,” Emery said. “Look at his face.”

I took a sip of cold water. All it took was one touch or one kiss from Emery, and my blood heated. We’d spent many afternoons in my house—our house—wrapped up in each other, sweaty and curled around each other…

Emery turned her high-wattage smile on her friend. “Harper, did Xander tell you about his offer from Caltech?”

“No,” she said, giving me a look. “I’m still getting caught up, but he’s also ridiculously modest. Tell me.”

Emery was practically bouncing out of her chair.

“Apparently, Caltech and MIT have this huge rivalry. Like, legendary. When Caltech found out that Xander wanted to turn down MIT’s offer, Caltech lost its mind.

They offered him a full scholarship, plus a living stipend and married couples’ housing on campus. ”

“Congratulations,” Harper said. “Though I’m not surprised. I am surprised that you guys are finally admitting that you’re married.”

“We’ll just be living together,” Emery said, unable to keep from beaming. “But also, completely and utterly legally bound to each other.”

I laughed. Emery and I had made a plan—another set of vows—to not refer to ourselves as married or use matrimonial language like “wife” or “husband” for five years. To allow us time to be together, live together, and just enjoy being together without so much pressure, so young.

But we hadn’t even left Rhode Island, and the five-year plan was already hanging by a thread. Emery had correctly identified us as entangled months ago. Entwined on a level that defied understanding. She was mine and I was hers, and no amount of postponing or pretending could change that.

Harper smiled mischievously. “You know who else went to Caltech?”

She and Emery burst out at the same time, “Sheldon Cooper!”

I rolled my eyes. “Here we go.”

Emery kissed my cheek again. “Spoiler alert: Sheldon also won the Nobel Prize. Just saying.” From inside her apron, her phone buzzed.

She read the text and smiled. “It’s Jack.

He says he wishes he could be here to see us off, but he’s stuck in New York City with his boyfriend and can’t get make it.

” She tapped a response and put her phone away.

“He’s so happy, which makes me so happy. ”

“What about your mom?” Harper asked. “How’s she doing?”

Emery’s smile dimmed. Her mother had come to see her and Jack graduate, before Jack moved to New York, but it had been a short, tense visit. She smuggled Emery her phone and some of her belongings and rushed back home after.

“She’s okay, I guess,” Emery replied. “A little healthier, maybe, but still blaming herself for Grant. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive herself. But I have to trust she’ll do what she can when she’s ready and give her all my love and support in the meantime.”

“And not to bring up the bad shit, but what about your dad?” Harper asked. “Have you talked to him at all?”

“No,” Emery said. “My therapist and I have decided that’s a bad idea, to say the least. I’m learning to let go of my notion of what—and who—makes up a family. Someone once told me that if the actual family is hurtful or toxic or abusive…” She smiled wanly. “Then it’s okay to make a better one.”

I took Emery’s hand in mine, my throat tight.

From the outside, it had been so easy to see how terrible her home life had been, but it was all she’d known.

And her loving heart wanted—more than anything—to keep everyone together and to try to make something beautiful out of something that was irrevocably broken.

I’d never stop telling her how damn proud I was of her for working to heal while keeping her heart open.

I see you, Emery. I see all of you.

And as if she could hear my thoughts, she turned to me, eyes glistening. “Love you.”

“Love you, Em.”

Harper coughed. “Maybe I’ll leave you…”

“No, stay!” Emery laughed, grabbing her hand. “I want to hear about you. For instance, where the hell have you been?”

Before Harper could say a word, Delilah Winslow slid into the booth, her dark eyes lit with conspiratorial excitement.

“Okay, I know—no more gossip, but this is kind of important. For you especially, Xander.” She leaned in, drawing us all closer. “Apparently, RJ Calloway was making noise about suing anyone who accused Rhett of dealing drugs.”

“Yes, I heard,” I said darkly.

“But Sierra had a sit-down with the police a few days ago—apparently she knew more than we thought—and now the Calloways are settling out of court with Dean’s family.”

“Oh shit,” Emery breathed. “Really?”

Delilah nodded. “Rhett pled no contest to some lesser charge, and they paid the Yearwoods an ‘undisclosed’ amount of money.” She leaned in closer. “Sierra told me it’s twenty million.”

Harper and Emery looked shocked and relieved, but I felt sick.

Since Dean’s death, it had come out that the Yearwoods were on the brink of bankruptcy.

Even homelessness. Dean had been keeping a 4.

0 GPA, coxing for the crew, and working two jobs trying to keep them afloat.

He’d been awarded a full scholarship to Yale and would’ve been premed, but the long hours and stress had gotten to him.

Rhett had been supplying him with Adderall to keep up, but that night Dean had wanted something “fun.” Rhett had obliged, but the pill had been unknowingly laced with fentanyl.

One dose—one bad pill—and that’s all it had taken to steal one of the best people away forever.

“I’m glad the Yearwoods don’t have to struggle anymore,” I said. “But Dean was worth more than twenty million. He was priceless.”

The table grew quiet—an impromptu moment of silence for our friend—and then Delilah cleared her throat.

“I can’t stay.” She glanced between Harper and Emery. “We’re still on for tomorrow night?”

“What’s tomorrow night?” I asked.

“We’re having a sleepover,” Emery said. “A real, honest-to-God, girls-only sleepover.”

“Em’s never had one,” Delilah said. “We can’t let her leave without spending one night, braiding hair, eating junk, and talking about boys.”

“Namely you,” Emery said in my ear and kissed my cheek. “They’re going to be so sick of me talking about how amazing you are.”

“Too late,” Harper said.

Emery’s break ended, and I hugged the girls goodbye, Harper the longest.

“Take care of our Em, okay?” she whispered. “And let her take care of you.”

“I’m going to miss you,” I said gruffly. “You and Dean were my first real friends. Leaving you sort of feels like leaving him all over again.”

“Grief is strange that way,” she said. “I feel the same, now that you’re going. But I’ll be out to visit you soon. You’re both stuck with me.”

“We’d better be.”

I waited in the parking lot until Emery came out, carrying a to-go back in her hand. She climbed into the Buick’s passenger seat. “It’ll be cold by the time we get there, but he loves the fries so much.”

“He does.” I leaned over and kissed her. “I love you so much.”

“Me too,” she said. “And if I haven’t told you enough already, I’m so grateful that you’re willing to move to California with me. I feel almost selfishly happy when MIT had been your dream…”

“I have a new dream,” I said. “And it’s better for him.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

We drove to Boston as the brilliant July sun was just starting to sink. At Willow Glen, Dad was in his chair by the window with a view of the gardens below. Emery went to him with her bag of food while I talked to his primary doctor. All the doubts I couldn’t tell Emery, I said to him.

“Am I making a mistake?” I asked Dr. Wilbur. “Dad told me he wanted to stay. But…”

Dr. Wilbur smiled gently, his bald head gleaming in the hallway light.

“Your father is in severe cognitive decline, Xander. Most days he doesn’t know where he is at all.

And while I know you want to grant him as much agency as you can, being with him is the best gift you can give.

If that means taking him to California, then so be it. ”

The words were reassuring, but somewhere, below the damaged brain tissues and failing neurons, he was still himself. I hated to think I was doing something he didn’t want or that I was abandoning his legacy by leaving MIT.

Dr. Wilbur read my skepticism. “Talk to him. Tell him how you feel, but I think being with you is more important than anything else.” He smiled gently. “Your father is a kind man and very joyful. One of my favorite patients, if I’m being honest. I hate to see him go.”

“And he’s okay to make the trip?”

“He’ll be fine. I promise.”

I heaved a breath. “Thank you.”

Inside the room, Emery had set up a tray for Dad and put the food in easy reach. He picked at fry, a smile on his lips. At this stage, he had difficulty speaking, and he was losing the ability to feed himself, too.

“Can I sit, Em? I need to tell him.”

“Of course.” She kissed my dad’s cheek. “I’ll get coffee.”

I sat down in the chair she vacated. “Hey, Dad, I need to ask you something. It’s pretty important.”

His blue eyes—blue like one of mine—stared into the garden, seeing it but not taking it in.

“We’re going to move to California. The three of us. Emery, me, and you. Emery is going to go to UCLA and I’m going to Caltech. They gave me quite a nice package. She and I are leaving in a few days, and once we’re there, I’m going to find you a home close to us so we can see you all the time.”

He said nothing, didn’t react, and maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like my words might have filtered in because he turned his head slightly to me.

“Einstein,” he whispered, the name mangled but clear.

I smiled, tears pricking my eyes. “That’s right. I’m going to take you to the Athenaeum at Caltech, where Einstein stayed in the 1930s. We’re going to see where he worked and gave lectures. How does that sound?”

Dad’s gaze went back to the garden, but I could have sworn he smiled at that.

I hadn’t told him that I’d seen my mother at the Wallace house all those weeks ago.

I didn’t know how much—if anything—he could understand, but I knew she wasn’t coming back.

And part of what fueled my taking Dad to California was so he wouldn’t have to sit and wait for someone who pretended he’d never been part of her life.

He deserved more than that, and maybe I did too.

Emery came back. “Everything okay?”

I nodded. “It’s just…a lot.”

“I know.”

She put her arms around me, and I let her love and light seep into me, comfort me. “I need a minute.”

“Of course.”

I went to the adjoining bathroom and set my glasses on the sink, then splashed cold water on my face.

In the mirror’s reflection, under the harsh fluorescent lighting, the color differentials in my eyes were stark.

The blue very blue, and the brown very brown.

One from him, one from her. Mom was part of my life, my history, and I’d hated seeing that fact staring at me in the face every time I looked in a mirror.

Emery had once told me it was conflicting forces inside me, which I’d dismissed with my usual scientific disdain.

But as usual, she was right. Emery’s explanations of life, the variability of it, added so much richness to my world.

She was destiny, hope, and love to my science and skepticism.

Without her generous heart, I’d have remained trapped behind my rigid walls of math and science, trying to keep myself safe from the unpredictability of life.

I may have helped her escape her prison, but she unlocked the door to mine.

I stepped back into the room. Emery was in the chair beside my dad again, holding his hand and chatting with him about the light falling over the trees and giving names to the different colors of the sunset.

She had once jokingly said she’d solved the unified Theory of Everything, but I think she had.

Like light, everyone was made up of both particles and waves.

We thought ourselves to be individual pieces, bumping into each other, creating causes and effects in our own little spheres.

But it was also true we belonged to a greater, infinite wave.

Connected. Vital. The cosmos was so vast we couldn’t comprehend it, but each one of us was integral to the whole at the same time.

And that idea, more than anything else, made me feel like I wasn’t alone.

She gave that to me.

I gazed at Emery, thinking I had never loved anything more in my life.

She turned and smiled back at me. “I love you too.”