Page 114 of This Blood that Bonds Us

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I meant it. I want us to always be together. We’re going to get them back, and everything will be different. But it will be good too.”

The sadness was back. Clawing its way into my chest. I wondered if she believed her own words.

“You do know what you’re asking, right? I’m literally never leaving you guys alone.”

“I never much liked being alone anyway.”

Fifty

Aaron

Presley’s birthday celebration ended at the dinner table. All four of us sat between a table covered in various colored paints, crumpled newspaper, and paint brushes. We each had a canvas. I tried to paint Kimberly. Thankfully, my terrible attempt was hidden where she couldn’t see. The smell of a vanilla candle on the kitchen countertop reminded me of late nights in my childhood when we’d all play games at the kitchen table.

Presley turned his canvas around, revealing a black dog with a little daisy painted on the ear. “It’s Sarah.”

I still wasn’t used to the dog’s name, but my brother didn’t seem in a hurry to change it.

Sarah stirred at the mention of her name before lying her head back down. Her long fur was like a heater against my socks.

“You didn’t tell me you could paint.” Kimberly marveled at his work.

“Oh, yes! He even won an art contest in high school.”

“Mom,” Presley groaned.

“Oh, hunny, it’s your birthday. Humor me. He was second best in the showcase. He got fifty dollars.”

“I wasn’t that good. I just took four years of art in high school.”

“He was really good,” I said.

“Now you’re just sucking up,” Presley said.

It was true, I’d never told him how good they were before. It’s not like he wanted to go to art school or anything. He just liked painting and was good at it, and high-school Aaron never liked to compliment his little brother.

I went to work finishing adding the blue to Kimberly’s eyes. It was atrocious, but I wanted to frame it. I showed her from across the table, and she politely smiled at my monstrosity.

Mom moved her paint brush along her canvas. “When your brother and Kimberly go, we can paint to pass the time. I have some time off I’ve been saving.”

The three of us froze. We hadn’t told her yet.

Presley shook his head like he wanted me to keep quiet, but she deserved to know. I put down my paintbrush and readied myself for tears.

“Mom . . . um . . . we’re all going now. I don’t know the exact date, but it will be soon. Presley and I will go first and then . . . Kim shortly after.” I’d rather skin myself alive than have the conversation with her, but there was no way around it.

“Oh.” Her eyes shifted to the table where an array of blue paint laid in front of her.

She had too much practice hiding her emotions. Probably where Zach and Luke got it from.

Presley got up to hug her. “I’m sorry, Mom. Please don’t cry.”

“No. No, it’s fine. I knew you probably would. I just keep imagining you all driving away, and how I’ll never have the strength to watch you leave.”

“You can look forward to the moment we all come back. And this time, we won’t come back empty-handed. Aaron’s got a good plan. You don’t have to worry,” Presley said.

She kissed his forehead. “I know.”

“Have your boyfriend take you on a vacation. You’ll be so busy you won’t even recognize we’re gone,” I said.