Page 34 of Seashells and Other Souvenirs

Rebekah taps my phone to zoom in on the little cousin who’s picking his nose in the front row of the picture on the screen. Classic. Definitely the best shot of the evening. My aunt emailed it out to everyone shortly after we walked back in our dress clothes.

Now, we’re wearing our pajamas, crammed into one bed while the other sits empty across the room.

“I’m glad Chris let you stay with us tonight.” Elle snuggles closer to Sutton.

“He didn’t let me,” Sutton responds. “He kicked me out, insisted that I needed this.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “He was right.”

“Two minutes.” Rebekah taps the corner of the screen where the blocky numbers read 11:58.

“Jude’s sister is really nice,” Elle says.

“She was a good sport tonight.” Thinking about Kelsey juggling my aunt’s giant camera as well as a couple cell phones and clicking the button every time my aunt shouted, “One, two, THREE!” while Donovan danced and made funny faces behind her makes me smile.

I hope I can get to know her better these next couple weeks.

“Any second now,” Rebekah sings. Elle and Sutton lean in. “Happy birthday!” They shout it in unison at the same time my phone buzzes. I drop the phone onto the blankets, and Sutton recovers my fumble.

“Ooo, guess who it is?” She shimmies under the covers. “Let’s see what Jude has to say, shall we?” I blush but don’t try to stop her.

“Happy birthday,” she reads. “I know you’re probably celebrating with your cousins right now, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you.”

“Aww,” Elle croons. “Text him back and tell him Alex will meet him in the yard in five minutes for a birthday kiss.”

I lunge for the phone, but Sutton pulls it out of reach. “Don’t you dare,” I bark.

She turns her back to me and starts typing. “Sutton!”

“Chill, Al. That’s not what I’m saying.” She finishes and turns back, tilts the screen so I can see her message before she hits send: This is Sutton. Come have cupcakes with us tomorrow night. We’ll wait for you to get off work.

I wrench the phone from her hands and wait for Jude’s reply. “You could have at least phrased it as a request.” I watch the screen. “And now I think you’ve scared him off. He knows y’all are reading this.”

“What do you think he’d say if he knew we weren’t reading this?” Elle teases. “And Sutton doesn’t make requests; she gives orders.”

We all jump when the phone vibrates. Sutton yanks it back. “Hi, Sutton. Tell Alex I’ll be there. And that she looks really pretty in the picture Kelsey showed me of the four of you.”

“That is NOT what he said.”

She passes me the phone smugly. It’s exactly what he said.

“Whoa, Jude,” Rebekah says. “Flirting boldly, my man. I like it.” So do I.

“Okay.” Sutton sends a heart and puts my phone on the nightstand. “No more boys allowed; this is cousin time.”

The yard is bustling when we return from a late dinner out and an unnecessarily long trip to the beach shop.

Rebekah was convinced we needed to buy friendship bracelets this year in addition to getting tattoos, and we couldn’t agree on whether to get four of the same bracelets or just one bracelet that we would mail back and forth throughout the year.

Sutton finally convinced us that it would end up lost somewhere in Spain (“no offense, Elle”), so now we’re each sporting matching braided strings around our wrists.

Chris meets us halfway between the houses, and two squishy arms reach for Sutton. “My baby,” she coos. “I missed you so much.”

“Aw.” Chris pecks her cheek. “And what about Marcail? Did you miss her too?” Sutton returns his look with one that may have made me cringe before. But now, I get it.

I search the folding chairs on the concrete until I locate Jude, sitting right next to my daddy, deep in conversation. Jude says something I can’t decipher from this far away that makes my dad laugh.

“Look out!” A basketball whizzes past my head.

“Sorry about that.” Elias jogs over with Donovan on his shoulders. “We’re working on three-pointers.”

Kelsey, who I didn’t realize was right beside us, says, “Careful, Donovan. I don’t think Alex wants a concussion for her birthday.”

“He’s doing great,” Elias tells her before taking the ball from Elle and carrying Donovan back to the basketball hoop. My eyes follow them only as far as the row of chairs because Jude is now staring straight at me.

I cross the yard and take the empty seat next to him. “Hi.”

“Hey, Birthday Girl.” My dad leans around Jude to smile at me. “How was your ladies’ night out?”

“We missed you singing Spice Girls.”

“I could do that now for you,” he offers. Jude indulges him with a laugh; if my dad didn’t like him before, he will definitely get points for this. Who am I kidding? It would be impossible for anyone not to like Jude.

“Wow,” Jude says. “That’s a lot of cupcakes.”

I look over at the tables under the house where Rebekah is helping my mom set out dozens of treats. “We thought you might like to share with everyone this year,” she calls over to me.

I absolutely do. Sharing these sacred moments with others is a joy I wish I’d learned to fully appreciate while my grandmama was still here to see it, but I know she’d be happy for me right now no matter how long it took for me to come around.

“Come on, Alex,” Rebekah calls as she pushes several candles into one of the cupcakes. “Time for you to make a wish.”

I walk over and around the table where I have a perfect view of the yard.

Of the family I was blessed to be born into and the members we’ve found along the years.

The ones who have found us. I look at my parents.

My aunts and uncles and cousins. The friends from next door.

My closest confidants at my side. The boy with the brown eyes and glasses staring back at me with a look of adoration I don’t deserve.

I hold my hair and the silver necklace against my chest as I lean over the flames and blow out the candles. But I don’t close my eyes. What more could I wish for tonight?

Rebekah and Elle have already been asleep for over an hour when I give up trying and crawl out of bed. I pull out the envelope Jude handed me when we said goodnight and tiptoe to the door where I can read his words again by the light of the hallway.

It seems strange to say I’ve missed the familiar swirl of his handwriting, the shape of his thoughts scrawled across a page. But I have.

I unfold the paper and feel myself smile as I re-read the title, a nod to our favorite story.

Sandcastles In the Air (for Jo)

I used to close my eyes at night and pray

I’d wake to something better than today.

Then, I’d name just one gift of Life’s giving

That would make tomorrow’s day worth living.

And every morning when I’d see the sun,

I’d search to try to find another one.

After some time, I found within my reach—

Like seashells gathered slowly from a beach—

A mound of treasured things I’d held in hand,

A “castle in the air” I’d made of sand.

It housed my heart and with each day that passed

Was reconstructed stronger than the last.

I didn’t mind the waves that washed away

The lesser happinesses of a day.

For greater things than I had ever planned

Had built me solid places I could stand.

And gravity that pulled me to the sea

Brought breakers to reshape and bolster me.

And now that I have stood here way up high,

I listen to your fears and can see why

You worry that the life you’ve loved might sink

And panic overwhelms you when you think

The only way to go from here’s downhill.

But what if what’s to come is better still?

For I live somewhere sweeter now, it seems

Than any castle I’ve built in my dreams;

Which proves sometimes the future has in store

Everything you’ve dared to hope and more.

So enter this new year with open mind;

Who knows the joy ahead that you may find?

Below the poem, he’s written just six words:

Happy birthday, Alex. See you tomorrow.