“It is pretty sucky, yeah.” I lift my shoulder to wipe my eyes on my shirt. “To be fair, I don’t have any siblings to worry about.” “I wish I could say it got better. The grief.” I laugh, the sound mirthless. “Aren’t you a barrel of monkeys.” “You want me to lie to you?” “No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.” I look down at his feet, my chest clenching. “Those are Dad’s boots, aren’t they?” “How’d you know?” “I remember them. He kept his things forever.” And Cash is forever wearing these boots. Does he wear them to honor Dad? Keep his memory alive? If I’m being honest, I don’t hate either of those
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