“Not exactly The Ritz,” Ollie says, breaking the silence in his typical fashion.
“It’s fine,” Liam mumbles, not really to us, more as if just wanting to speak. “It’s warm and clean.”
“Okay, you just aged another ten years to sixty,” his brother jibes. I chuckle, loving their dynamic. Then the silence resumes again.
“I’ll let you both get settled.” I need space. Just a little time to check my emotions. The last thing I want is to cause my sons to feel guilt, and right now, I could cry. The rush of loss isoverwhelming. “I’ll find my hotel, then come back in a few hours, and we’ll go eat.”
“Sure, Dad.” Ollie throws himself onto his bed, his suitcase bouncing onto the floor. “See you in a bit.”
Liam steps forward, then wraps his arms around my waist. I hold him like I did when he was small, even though he’s now almost eye level with me. It’s comforting for both of us. His heart beats against my chest. We just stand there for a few seconds. Father and son.
“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers. My pain nearly breaks the surface, and I push it down deep in my throat. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I’m so damn proud of you. Both of you.” I squeeze Liam a little tighter. Ollie looks up, then resumes his game on his phone. “Now, go explore and tell me all about it when I come back later.”
***
Seven o’clock rolls around, and I’m standing at the entrance to the halls, but neither son is anywhere to be seen. I messaged them half an hour ago to tell them I’d meet them here; both read it, yet neither is here. Ten more minutes pass, then I hear the cackle of teenage voices behind me. I turn, and there are both of them in a group of six or seven wandering along the path as if they have all the time in the world.
“Dad,” Liam shouts as they come into view. “Five minutes and we’ll be with you.”
They play fight the way boys do with the others, all arm punches and laughs, then they run off into the halls. I watch in awe at how settled they look already, relieved, but hurting a little that within hours they’ve proven they don’t need me.
My internet research back in my hotel found a burger joint a ten-minute walk from the university. Simple but effective, and both boys will eat well. The place is crammed with students, and we squeeze into a table in the corner as my phone rings with an incoming video call.
Savannah appears on screen, smiling but tired. “Hey, Dad,” she says, eyes shadowed but bright. “How’s the good old U.S. of A? Have the rogues been arrested yet?”
Before I can answer, it rings again, this time Rose popping up—bikini clad, a beach in the background. I turn the phone horizontally and place it on the table so we can all see the girls.
“Hi,” Rose sings, then takes a slug of a blue drink in a cocktail glass. “Just swinging by to see what’s happening…”
“I was here first…” Savannah interrupts, and I realize that none of us on this side of the call has said a word.
“Well, you weren’t quick enough,” her sister shoots back, and the two of them start to bicker. As teenagers, they were a nightmare, swinging from best friends to enemies day to day. Close enough in age that they could socialize together, but far enough apart that sometimes the gap caused issues.
I tap the table with my knuckles. “Order.”
It was an old trick, but one that used to work at the dinner table. And tonight it did again.
“Good to see you, girls,” I say. “We’ve just sat down for dinner.”
“Oh, what you having?” Rose chimes in.
“Meat,” Ollie shouts. “Meat and bread. Me man… I only eat meat.”
Savannah huffs. “You need to eat vegetables, Ollie. I’ve told you that before.”
“You act older than Liam and Dad combined,” Ollie teases, and his sister launches into a monologue about why eatinggreens is important. Savannah may be the oldest, but sometimes she falls too easily into her younger brother’s traps.
“Shhh…” Rose says. “You two are still a nightmare, and you’re on bloody opposite sides of the earth. So, Liam, how are you feeling? Exciting, huh?”
Everyone falls silent, waiting for the quietest member of our family’s summary. The one every one of us protects, though we don’t admit it.
“Good,” he replies, voice soft. “It will be a good summer.”
“Yeah, it will be.” Rose smiles wide, pride clear on every inch of her face. “And we’re all cheering you both on every step of the way.”
I sit back and let my kids talk, rarely adding more than a nod, grunt, or chuckle. I don’t need to; together they work, and I love watching them. The love. The care. The companionship. The fact that even though they’re divided by miles of ocean and land, they’re still rooting for one another.