Page 24 of Seashells and Other Souvenirs

Is it strange that my favorite photograph of someone

Doesn’t even show their face?

A mere silhouette

Just the outline, the shape of her

A shadow of the past

I wonder if it’s because

All the details I’ll never know

The face I have no memory of

The dark edges of mystery and loss

Are the things that have shaped me most

“This may sound weird, but I’d like to think she’d be proud that I’m doing this tomorrow. The thing my dad talked about more than anything was how much she loved this island.”

I look across my plate of pancakes. “It doesn’t sound weird at all.” Jude hasn’t touched his food. “Are you nervous?”

“A little.”

“Understandable. But the fact that they called for an interview this soon is a good sign. They’re clearly very interested.”

He sets his fork down. “Thanks for helping me pick out a tie. Any interview advice?”

“Be yourself.” He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “I know that sounds cliché. But I’m serious; if they see the Jude I know, you’ll be a shoo-in.” I snap off a piece of bacon. “I wish I was brave enough to do something like this.”

“You didn’t interview for your job?”

“I did.” He waits patiently for the rest of the story. “But it was a safe bet. I only applied because I knew I’d get it. And because I knew what to expect when I did.”

“But you like it, right? Teaching?”

“Yeah. Most of the time. I just wonder if there are other possibilities I’ve overlooked because I’m—” I search for the right word.

“Scared?” Jude finds it. “You need to feel in control.” He doesn’t phrase the last part as a question. My vision blurs without warning, and his worried face swims across from me. “Alex, I’m sorry,” he starts to apologize.

“No, you’re right.”

“Did something happen?”

I rein in my tears. “What do you mean?”

“You can tell me it’s none of my business if you want. But I just can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you feel this way? What made you so afraid?”

I abandon my plate, no longer hungry. “That’s the thing, Jude.

Very few things that anyone would consider ‘bad’ have ever happened to me.

When Grandmama died, it was the first time I’d ever experienced such deep grief.

My childhood was a dream; I know no one’s life is perfect, but I think I lucked out and got pretty close.

And I feel like such a brat for even thinking this, especially after everything you’ve gone through, but I just worry that the rest of my life is never going to measure up.

What if it’s all downhill from here? What if it’s just one loss after the next until all of it is gone?

” The last word comes out as hardly a squeak, and I sit in silence under the weight of the words I just unloaded on him.

He pushes his own plate to the side and puts his hands on the table, taking a deep breath. “That makes sense to me.”

A strangled half-laugh, half-cry escapes me. “Really?” I’m not even sure it makes sense to me.

“I spent a lot of years wondering if it would have been harder if I’d known my mom. If it would hurt more if I had all these memories of her like you do of your grandma.”

“Jude.” I’m bereft of any other words at the moment. At least three minutes tick by, the only sound the tapping of the rain against the window.

“Which ones would you trade?” Jude finally asks.

“Which moments would you give back if it would lessen the pain of possibly losing them?” I let his eyes hold mine, the challenge in them laced with tenderness.

I shake my head slowly. “We have to take it all together, Al. The good stuff and the hard stuff. And most of the best parts of life are both.”

Though there are a hundred things I want to say right now, I can’t. So I opt for, “Do you want to build a fort with me?”

“Huh?” Jude’s brow wrinkles but his shy grin returns.

I gesture to the window. “We can’t really go anywhere. Seems like a good day for a fort.”

“Is this a Henry family beach tradition I’ve yet to learn?”

“Nope.” I stand and pick up my plate. “Just something I used to do at home sometimes. You’ve never built a fort before?”

“Of course I have.” He pushes his chair back. “It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure I could still whip up something epic. You get all the blankets from upstairs. I’ll move the kitchen chairs to the living room. If we set it up in front of the TV, we can play video games from inside.”

“I like the way you think, Alford.”

When I return with my third and final armload of blankets and pillows from the second floor, he’s already got the outside structure finished.

“This looks amazing.” I duck inside. “Don’t forget to tell the interviewers tomorrow that you accidentally left this skill off your résumé.”

“I was just contemplating calling them to see if they wanted to meet here instead of their office.” He joins me in the fort and helps me set up the pillows around the edges. “You know, for not being an official beach tradition, this might be one of my favorite traditions so far.”

“I’m gonna let you in on a secret about traditions, Jude.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Anything can be a tradition. You just have to start it once, and then keep doing it.”

“That settles it then.” He stretches out and leans back. “Fort goes up on every rainy day from here on out.” He pulls out his phone, types, and reads the screen. “And it looks like it’s going to rain the rest of this week.”

“Noo,” I whine. “We still have stuff to do.”

He passes his phone to me. “Good news is it looks like it’ll be sunny by the time your family gets here.” He lifts one of the blankets on the fort’s wall and folds it back to let in more light. “You up for some video games?”

“I would be. But I’d hate to beat you so badly that it shakes your confidence going into the meeting tomorrow.”

He tosses a pillow at me. “I’m not worried.”

Another idea hits me. “Hey, do you have any Legos?”

“Do I have any Legos ?” He pulls a face that I know is reserved strictly for me when he thinks I’m being absurd. “I’ll be right back.”

He exits our hideout, and I’m struck by the fact that I’m about to turn twenty-two next week and I’m currently sitting in a blanket fort waiting for my friend to return with Legos.

I think about how much I’ve grown these weeks on this island with Jude.

And how I feel both older and younger than I have in years.