Page 53 of What He Doesn't Know

Death changes us. It takes everything we thought we knew about our lives and fast pitches it out the window, shattering the glass in the process. Wind whips in, hard and cold, and throws everything we’d had neatly in place flying around the room.

No one is the same once they lose someone they love.

They just have to learn to exist in the new world, no matter how messy it is.

It took that night at the fundraiser for me to realize that having Reese’s friendship again would be a good thing — for both of us. Talking to him about Jeremiah and Derrick was easy. It was effortless. And if I could be there for him, too — if I could be one little piece of home, and someone he could talk to? Well, that’s exactly what I would be.

My parents already had the first game set up when we arrived, the coffee table littered with Monopoly pieces and money. Reese was there, too, and they all stood to greet Cameron and me. We hugged Mom and Dad first, and I watched Reese carefully as he and Cameron shook hands.

He didn’t seem as tired tonight, his eyes not as heavy as before. Maybe he was feeling better after the fundraiser. Maybe I had helped.

“How are you?” I asked when he leaned in to hug me. He smelled like bourbon and cigars, likely a result of starting the night in Dad’s study.

“You know,” he said, catching my eyes when he pulled back. “I’m feeling pretty great tonight. How are you?”

I smiled. “I’m pretty great, too.”

Cameron gently placed his arm around me, walking us over to the coffee table with a squeeze on my shoulder. He seemed a little stiff, like he didn’t want to be there at all, and I didn’t have to guess to know he was thinking about work.

He always was.

“I’m so excited for this!” Mom said once we were all seated. She brought over a homemade pitcher of sangria, pouring each of us a glass as she beamed. “We used to have game nights all the time when the kids were younger, Cameron. It was just so fun. Did you ever have game nights?”

Cameron smiled, but he still seemed distant, like he was in another world altogether that evening. “Unfortunately not. You guys will have to go easy on me.”

“Well, it won’t be us you have to worry about,” Dad said. “Reese and Charlie here will be the ones giving you a run for your money. Always were so competitive.”

“It’s okay, babe,” I said, patting Cameron’s leg. We were all sitting on the floor, and his knee touched mine. “I won’t rub it in too bad on the way home.”

“Pshhh,” Reese chimed in. “Keep dreaming, Tadpole. You’re going down.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, and Mom and Dad laughed, but Cameron just stared at Reese.

“Tadpole?”

Reese paused where he was distributing money to each of us, his eyes flicking to mine before he shrugged. “Yeah. Just an old nickname I gave Charlie when we were kids.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Dad said. “That was the day we couldn’t pay her to get out of your new pool. Remember that, Gloria?”

“She spent nearly thirteen hours in there. Her fingers were wrinkled for days,” Mom added with a laugh.

I smiled, but I watched Cameron curiously, wondering why his brows were set in a scowl, his mouth in a thin line. He didn’t laugh or smile at the story. He almost seemed annoyed by it.

“Well, let’s get this started, shall we?” Reese said, and he rolled the dice to see who would go first.

Just like it always did, time flew once the game had begun. We were all snatching up properties as fast as we could, making under-the-table deals that were technically illegal in the game, and just like always, Mom and Dad seemed more excited to watch us play than to actually have any stake in the game, themselves.

Conversation flowed easily, too — especially when Reese told us he’d picked up a gig at one of the nicest restaurants in downtown Pittsburgh. Mom insisted we all go see him play soon, and Dad made a comment about how proud his parents would have been.

Reese’s eyes caught mine when they were mentioned, and I just offered a small smile. I knew the pain in his chest that had been ignited just by the mention of their names.

The game ticked by, the sangria drained down, and it didn’t take long for me to learn that Cameron was competitive, too.

He growled with frustration as he landed on another one of Reese’s properties about an hour into the game, this one stacked with a hotel, and Reese rubbed his hands together with an evil grin.

“Indiana Ave. That’s $1,050 with a hotel.”

I clucked my tongue, nudging Cameron playfully as Mom and Dad noted that it could mean the end of the game for him. Dad even high-fived Reese, which was the last thing I saw before the game went flying.