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“He’s asking for you.”
Buck looks up from his phone, brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“Christopher,” Eddie clarifies. “He won’t go to sleep until you say goodnight.”
Buck rises from the couch, long legs unfolding, a little unsteady, like he’s still learning how to use the left one properly. He looks at Eddie like he wants to protest, but Eddie tips his chin towards Chris’ bedroom and Buck ambles off towards the hall.
Eddie gives them a few minutes of privacy, cleaning up the living room of pizza boxes and plates and cups. Dumping dishes in the sink to wash later. Putting the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow. He pauses at the counter, taking a deep breath and rubbing his palm against his chest where something sharp and heavy has taken root.
He can hear the two of them talking quietly as he approaches the open bedroom doorway and he leans against the frame with his arms folded across his chest.
The room is dim, illuminated by Chris’ nightlight and the glow coming from the hallway.
“Were you scared?” Chris asks. He’s where Eddie left him, snuggled under the blankets, hair a mess, glasses off and set on the nightstand. He’s perfect.
Buck sits on the bed next to him, head curved towards Christopher, the selfsame shape Eddie has made a thousand nights over.
“Yeah,” Buck says, voice low. “Yeah, I was scared.”
“You didn’t seem scared.”
“Well, I had to be brave for you,” Buck tells him and Eddie’s stomach hurts.
They haven’t talked much about the tsunami. The cuts and bruises of it have healed and faded. But sometimes when Eddie looks at Buck, he sees the wan, shattered specter of him from that night, bleeding out and wearing Christopher’s glasses around his neck.
Sometimes he hears the echo of Eddie… I tried…
“I wanted to be brave at school,” Chris says slowly, the way he does when he’s trying to figure out what exactly he wants to say. “And I fell. In front of everyone.”
“You did,” Buck agrees. “Sometimes we fall. And it hurts.” Buck rubs a hand over his knee.
Chris’ nose wrinkles; his eyes travel across the dark ceiling. “Dad says nobody can do everything.”
Eddie wants to step into the room and has to dig his nails into his arm to stop himself.
Buck nods. “Your dad’s a smart guy. No one can do everything. I can’t speak French and I’m terrible at fishing.”
Christopher giggles. Eddie smiles at them both.
“But I want to try all sorts of things,” Buck continues. “Even if it’s scary. Even if I fall. And we had fun today on the skateboard, didn’t we?”
Chris nods, curls bouncing.
“So maybe there’s other things we can try.”
“Together?” Chris’ eyes struggle to stay open, sleep finally taking over after such an exciting day.
From the doorway, Eddie can see Buck’s Adam’s apple move as he swallows.
“Yeah, bud. Together.”
Buck looks back over his shoulder and meets Eddie’s eyes.