He rolled his eyes. “It’s poetic,” he said, slapping the top of my head lightly. “Lighthouses are there to help ships see through the dark. To keep them from running aground. That’s what you do, Paul. You’re like the beacon in the dark.”
“You’re a poet, and you don’t even know it,” I told him, feeling slightly uncomfortable with his words. I wasn’t like that at all. I didn’t deserve that kind of praise. I was just… Paul.
He moved his hands from my hair and cupped my face, not allowing me to turn away from those knowing eyes. “Without you,” he said fiercely, “there would have been no me. I was lost, and you found me. Vince might get lost too, and he’ll need you to find him. He’ll need you to be the anchor. He’ll need you to be the light. He’ll need you.”
“I don’t….” But I didn’t want to finish that.
“You will,” Sandy said, hearing it anyway. “You know how and you will.”
I THOUGHT about going to the hospital again, or calling Vince, but I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome either way. I settled on sending him a text, though I didn’t know if he’d g
et it in the hospital if his phone was turned off. It felt woefully inadequate to send him a message that said if he needed me, to call me, but I didn’t know what else to say. It took me almost an hour to compose that masterpiece, and when I finally convinced myself to send it, I regretted it the moment I hit send, wishing I could take it back. I almost sent him another message, but I knew it would be followed by another and another, so instead, I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and fell back onto my bed and lay there in the dark.
Sleep was long in coming and when it came, it was thin and restless.
My phone ringing woke me later, just before midnight, pulling me from a hazy dream where I couldn’t move because I was stuck to a sea cliff, shining a flashlight into the water, ships bearing down on me at high speeds, waves crashing, winds blowing. I didn’t even look at the screen before answering, convinced it was part of the dream.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Paul?”
“Sure.” I couldn’t tell who it was in my sleep-deprived mind.
“It’s Darren.”
This cleared me up right quick. “What happened?”
“She’s gone. Two hours ago. It was faster than they thought it would be.”
“I’m… sorry. Are you okay?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I’m not calling about me.”
“Vince.”
“Has he called you?”
“No. Is he there with you?”
“No. He took off a while ago. He looked… wild. Confused.”
“And you let him go?” I said, anger in my voice. “You let him drive away?”
“We couldn’t stop him,” Darren snapped. “Not without it resorting to blows. He exchanged words with our father and… it didn’t go well.”
“Where did he go?” I asked, getting up, planning on finding my keys.
“He said he wanted to go to his home, but I’m at his apartment, and he’s not here. I don’t think he came here at all.”
“His home? Where else could he have gone?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d heard from him.” He sighed. “Shit. I don’t know where else he could be, unless he went back to Phoenix for some reason.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “He better not have driven all the way back there with how he is. I don’t—”
There was a sharp pounding at my front door. Wheels jumped up from his spot on the bed, his little barks echoing throughout the house as he rolled down his ramp and tore for the front door. “Hold on,” I told Darren.
Wheels’ barking turned into an excited yipping as I headed down the hall. His butt was wagging back and forth, the tires on his cart tapping on the tile. It seemed he knew who it was, and there were only two other people he responded to that way. I allowed myself to hope as I moved him out of the way, and then I flipped on the porch light as I opened the door.