I stay home and sleep or watch movies or pretend to read a book until three in the afternoon, when Colin comes over. We pick Elliot up from school, eat a quick meal, then disappear.
Disappearing—that’s what this is all about. Colin put the roof up on the LeSabre. It still attracts attention, but most people don’t notice me curled up in the passenger seat now.
We drive to the park. On warm nights, we sit up by the fort. On colder nights, we find an out-of-the-way parking spot and stay bundled up in the car.
Despite what that might sound like, these aren’t just giant make-out sessions. Sometimes we watch a movie on my laptop. Sometimes we turn on the inside light and do our homework or play Mankalah. Once, Colin put on an oldie radio station and we slow-danced under the streetlamp.
Other times—like at least once a day—I just sit in the front seat and cry.
Tonight, I cry more than usual. It’s been five days since the accident. Divers have only found one of Dad’s boots and the sleeve of his jacket. Crews have searched the surrounding forest. There’s no sign of him.
They’re very sorry, the man in charge said today, but they’ve called off the rescue mission. The best they can hope for now is to recover the body.
Steve Patterson is officially presumed dead.
“Presumed!” I want to scream. “How can they presume? They don’t know Dad. They don’t know what he’s capable of. It’s only been five days.”
I bawl my eyes out. Colin just keeps passing me Kleenex. I don’t know how he isn’t completely grossed out. My eyes are red, my nose is huge, and my forehead is throbbing as if I’ve got some big pumping heart in there instead of a brain.
When I’ve finally exhausted myself, Colin takes my hand. He says, “Ria. I know this is hard, but I think you’re going to have to accept that your dad is gone.”
I try to pull away, but he won’t let me.
“That lake is really deep and really cold. The plane was completely destroyed. Even a guy as smart and athletic and tough as Steve couldn’t have survived that.”
I glare at him, but he won’t stop, he won’t let me go.
“I bet your dad’s looking down on us right now and wishing he could have stuck around for a whole lot longer. But I also bet that he wouldn’t want you to be getting bloodshot eyes over him.”
As if I have a choice! I turn away.
“He’d want you to pick yourself up, pull yourself together. He wouldn’t want you to miss out on life just because he wasn’t around anymore. He’d be telling you to live large. Go for it. Seize the day. That’s the kind of guy he was. Am I right?”
He lifts my chin. “Go big or go home! Party hearty. Eat, drink and be merry.”
He just keeps talking until I break down and laugh.
He is right. Those are exactly the types of things Dad would say.
I wipe my face and put on the Patterson smile.
“So I’d like to make a suggestion…” Colin leans over into the backseat and pulls out two champagne flutes and a bottle of Lime Rickey. That makes me really laugh. Only Colin would remember that Dad loved Lime Rickey.
He fills up our glasses. The street-lamp makes the green of the pop look radioactive.
“From now on, when you think of your dad, I want you to remember all the people he made happy, all the people he made laugh, and all the people, of course, he made rich. I’ll certainly be thinking of him next year when I head off to university with my tuition paid.”
We clink glasses.
Colin says, “To Steven John Patterson. I just hope that some day I’ll be half the man he was!”
I think he already is.