“I know he did. And I loved him like a brother. You know that. But it's not just because of that,” Will replied, his throat thick with emotion. “A couple of days ago he called me. He told me he was headed out west and that you weren't coming. I didn't ask. I knew what that meant. But you know, he always walked around with this idea that he was on borrowed time so he made me make some promises, too. He kind of implied that now that he kept his promises to Curtis, and you weren't coming, maybe his time was up. At the time I gave him the usual crap I did. Told him he was gonna be fine. And he said maybe, but he wanted to make sure you had some things. I guess in case he never got to give them to you himself.”

“Things?” I asked.

“Yeah. He mailed me a package. I just got it today . . . when I got it, I thought he was still alive,” he uttered in disbelief. “His instructions were to hold onto it. And if anything ever happened to him, or if you ever needed help, I was to make sure you got this. Maybe I would have sent it back when I found out you decided to go with him, but when he thought you were staying behind, this is what he wanted.” Will took a deep breath. “Lilly, I think a lot of that talk was just him missing you. If it's any consolation, I think you coming back to him . . . his last day was filled with hope. He saw you as life. His lucky charm. He must have been so happy to have you with him again.”

“Thank you. He was,” I affirmed in a weak voice. In a way it did console me. I was happy to have those last moments with Bobby, that he was full of hope before those bullets ravaged his body. But a lucky charm, I was not. Bobby came back for me. He found himself in Stan's path because he loved me too much to keep driving west without me. So in other ways, those final moments of glee made the tragedy more profound. Maybe he was better off driving away in misery. “His funeral is tomorrow,” I said.

“He wasn't much of a fan of those types of affairs.”

“No, he wasn't. He wouldn't want a fuss made. And . . . I'm not going. I don't want to be with those people. I can't see him like that . . .” I choked on air as the sobs finally broke through.

“What do you need from me? Bobby wouldn't care about me going to his funeral, but he would want me to take care of you. Be there for you. I made him promise the same about Sasha.”

“Can you come? Bring the package?”

“Of course.”

“And um, I'd like to go to the lake house . . . no one will be there. That's where I know I'll feel him.”

“Sweetie, whatever you need. And this won't change my answer, but does your family know? If they think you've gone missing and find a black man—”

“Yes. My sister knows. She understands.”

I didn't tell Will everything. I didn't tell him about the baby. I thought the news of Bobby's death was more than enough news for one phone call. I wanted the pregnancy to be good news. And when the news was delivered with Bobby's death, it turned it into something tragic. So I held onto that bit of hope for a better day.

The day of Bobby's funeral was the day the hospital discharged me with instructions to rest, not get stressed, and take it easy. That was an impossible prescription.

The bleeding had stopped, the headaches from the trauma had dulled, but rest? Take it easy? I couldn't sleep without waking up every hour reaching for Bobby. I couldn't just sit around on the day Bobby would be laid to rest.

Will and Sasha waited outside for me, their expressions full of warm sadness. My sister politely left for the funeral after the introductions. We embraced tearfully. Already, being around Bobby's chosen family, I felt him. Like he had just stepped away for a moment and would pop into the car and wink at me. I sat in the back, and as soon as the car took off, Will looked at Sasha and tilted his head to her. She nodded and bent over, picking up a small cardboard box.

“This is for you,” she said.

I took it from her hands, and cradled it on my lap. I knew inside I would hear from Bobby again, but I wasn't ready to do it here. I wanted to be where I would be closest to him. At my favorite place in the world.

The lake house had never felt so quiet before. Even when it was just Bobby and me, there was laughter or shouting or splashing or tools clanking. But all I heard when we stepped out of Will's car was the soft swooshing of trees. Not a bird. Not a grasshopper. There was an unprecedented stillness around us. And I knew it was Bobby showing me he was still here.

I handed the keys for the main house to Sasha. “I think I'd like to go down to the dock alone for a bit.”

“Sure, honey,” she said, running her hand over my hair.

She voiced something inaudible to Will before they looked back at me, smiled, and gave me my time alone with Bobby.

I stood at the edge of the dock, at the spot we jumped from on that night when we had finally confessed how we felt. I closed my eyes as a strong wind came through as a flock of birds all launched from the lake at once. I smiled. It was a strange reaction, but for a fleeting moment, I felt the good times. They still lived here. They still lived in me.

I slid off my shoes, placed the box on the ground, and sat on the dock's edge, dipping my toes in the cold water. The weather was perfect, the heat had finally broken to a pleasant warmth.

I pulled the brown paper wrapping off the box. Affixed to the top was a notecard. I scraped the last bit of strength I had from the bottom of its well, and pried the note open.

Lil,

I don't know when you'll see this. I hope that you never have to or that it's when your hair is grey and you're watching your grandchildren laughing and running around, but if it's sooner than that, I am so sorry.

I don't think I am supposed to be here very long. Sometimes I think I was given a little extra time to make things right with you. I think—I hope—I've done that. You not coming along affirms my hunch. Like my mission might be complete. I hope you understand that any mistakes I made were because I was trying to do the right thing. And I know I hurt you, but I tried to do the things I thought would give you the best life.

I'm just a few hours from heading out west, and I hoped it would be with you, but we can't have everything we want.

I want you to understand that I'm not angry at you for staying. My only hope in coming back was to let you know that you were the love of my life and that no one else could ever take your place. That I left precisely because of that. Everything else that happened upon my return was just a bonus. So the times we did spend together have been the most incredible moments of my life.

I've been all over the world, met so many people, seen so many things. And yet, I understand why the lake was your favorite place on earth. I laughed you off when you told me that the night before your wedding. But I was just a nineteen-year-old trying to sound worldly when I didn't know anything yet. The truth was it was already my favorite place because it was where I got to spend the most time with you.

Anyway, the contents of this box were something I held onto. I mailed these to a PO box thinking one day I might give them to you. But then, when I saw you, I didn't want to wrap us up in the past. Seeing you only made me think of possibility. Of a future I didn't even allow myself to consider. That maybe I was given the chance of an entire lifetime with you when I got a second chance up on that hill.