Chapter 6 - The Video
I just stared at her. "What?"
"Dad wasn't alone in it," she whispered. "Uncle Marcus was there."
She pressed play. Grant appeared on the screen — he'd propped the phone against the workbench while checking fishing gear. He was alive. Laughing. I reached for the bedpost to steady myself.
Then someone walked into frame behind him. Marcus.
"What is he doing there?" I said.
On the video, Marcus said, "I'm not going, man."
Grant looked up sharply. "What do you mean, you're not going?"
I turned to Naomi. "Going where?"
"Fishing, I think," she whispered.
My pulse spiked. Marcus had been invited. In six years, he had never once told me that.
The video kept playing. Grant threw a life jacket onto the workbench. "You need this weekend."
Marcus laughed, bitter. "My girlfriend walked out three months ago, Grant. Fishing isn't going to fix that."
"No," Grant said. "But sitting alone won't either."
Marcus looked away. Grant lowered his voice. "Come with us."
"No."
"Fine." Grant picked up another life jacket, checked the straps, and said something that raised every hair on my arms.
"Kids don't remember every expensive thing you buy them, Marcus." He pulled hard on the buckle. "They remember whether you came back."
The video froze for half a second. My breath stopped along with it. Grant had said that the day before he never came back.
But that wasn't the part Naomi had been trying to show me. She dragged the video forward. "Mom, listen to what Dad says next."
Grant was still talking to Marcus. "Fine. Don't come fishing." Marcus looked away again. Grant tightened another strap.
"But come over Sunday night."
"For what?"
May you like
"The boys are going to talk your ear off whether you like it or not."
Marcus almost smiled. Then the video ended.
