Page 61 of PS: I Hate You

Ten months, and I still think about him every day. I’m not sure an hour has passed without a thought of Josh. A flash of his smile in my memory. The urge to text him about random things in my life.

As the envelope slides free of Dom’s grip, I search his wrist. There, peeking out from under the wristband of his watch, are the edges of the same letters.

Suddenly self-conscious, I focus on opening Josh’s letter, wanting to read it before another ghost-town visitor decides to stroll into the brothel. Excitement thrums through my veins in anticipation of getting one more piece of my brother. When I pull out the paper and see Josh’s familiar scrawl, I can almost hear his voice in my head reading the letter aloud.

Dear Maddie & Dom,

Welcome to Arizona!

I’ve explored plenty of ruins in my travels, but never got around to any of these abandoned mining towns.

Is it spooky? Do you see any ghosts?

If I end up being a ghost, I hope I haunt someplace cool and not this hospital. Maybe you all should perform an exorcism here just in case, so I don’t get stuck floating around for eternity in this backless gown. Though they are nice and breezy…

Sorry. Getting off topic.

Now, your task, should you choose to accept it (and you better accept it because I’m dead and I said so) is to have a Josh-story sharing fest. As you explore Vulture City, I want you to tell each other stories only you know about me. Yes, I’m that vain. And I give you permission to be brutally honest. Tell the funny ones, but also tell how I screwed up.

Because I did. I know I did.

Tell each other the things you regret not doing with me. Here, I’ll go first.

Maddie, there’s a town in Wales that’s full of bookshops. I regret not taking you there and buying every story you wanted. Dom, I regret not going to more Phillies games with you. I got so focused on always seeking out new experiences, I forgot how good a classic could be.

Maybe I’ll haunt Citizen Bank Park and you can grab an extra beer for me next time you go.

Try not to have as many regrets as I do.

Spread me with the desert sand and take a picture with a cactus for me.

Love,

Josh

“Hell,” Dom mutters, and I couldn’t agree more.

I know these trips are entirely about Josh, but we haven’t done much talking about my brother. The question I asked Dom a moment ago was a big step for me.

Now I’m supposed to spend the next however many hours sharing stories? Stories Dom doesn’t already know?

Those pieces of Josh that have only ever been mine.

Buthehas to tell me things, too.

It’s an exchange. And in the end, I’ll have more of my brother than I did when this day started. It’ll be like Josh lived a little longer.

“Let’s walk. Explore.” Dom doesn’t use his commanding tone. Instead, he speaks carefully, with a questioning tilt of his head toward the open doorway.

“Yeah. Okay.”

As we step over the threshold, I suddenly remember the phonecall with my mother. How she wanted to come. How if I’d given in, she’d be here for whatever we both say next.

I could never have given up my Josh secrets to Cecilia Sanderson. Not to a woman who would use them to entertain strangers.

I turn abruptly to face Dom and stumble a step back when I come face-to-chest. He grabs my shoulders to keep me from tumbling off the porch.

“Sorry. I was walking too close,” he says.