The Summer of Everything

by Julian Winters

It’s a slow, moody song. The man’s voice is hypnotic. Every lyric comes with a deepness that says he’s fought too many wars. He’s lost more than he’s won.

Everyone walks around here with their issues on display like an exhibit. It’s a gallery of scars.

It’s messy. It’s lonely. It’s gone today, then back tomorrow. No amount of hugs and prayers and “are you okay?” fixes grief. To be honest, Wes doesn’t think grief is something to be “fixed” or “get over.” It’s there for a reason.

“It’s filled with amazing memories, but we don’t get to take our possessions with us everywhere. We leave those behind. But the memories—damn it, Wes, we get to take the memories with us to wherever our next road may lead.”

Then he eases his arms around her for a hug. It lasts too long. But that’s okay. Sometimes, it’s appropriate to hold on longer than necessary.

“Martín loved this hour,” she says to the ocean. “He loved the sunset. He’d talk about how this is when you knew it was okay to let whatever was troubling you go. Because the day was ending. “Don’t carry today into tomorrow,” he’d tell our children.”

“If you meet someone you’re romantically compatible with—cool. If you find a new friend—even better. Platonic relationships rock.” Her eyes search until they find Wes’s. “But if you find someone who knows what it’s like to not be understood outside this store. Someone who gets how books can change your life. Someone you can lean on. Someone who doesn’t always get you, but is willing to try, starting with a book and a few words, then…” Ella exhales, blinking. Wes is almost positive she’s wearing waterproof mascara, but he’s not emotionally ready for her to cry. “Then thank this woman,” Ella says, tossing an arm around Mrs. Rossi’s shoulders. “Because she made all this happen for you. For all of us.”

“Are you about to say ‘love’ is the endgame?” “It is!” Nico laughs. “But not necessarily romantic love. Just love in general. Being capable of extending the walls of your heart to make room for someone else in there. Being vulnerable.”