by Terri Osburn
Since he’d always felt protective of Mia, Nick understood his great-grandfather’s thinking. Not that his sister had ever wanted to date a boy, older, younger, or otherwise.
“Is that him?” he asked, pointing to a picture of an older man wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and dark pants.
“Ah, yes. That’s Papa. He always stood like that. Stomach out. Hands on his hips. Cigarette clenched between his teeth.”
How anyone lived past thirty back then was a miracle. The men on Nota’s side had nearly all lived well into their seventies, but Nick had no idea how considering their unhealthy lifestyle.
Nota turned the page to her wedding photos taken the following year. “Other than when I had your father, this was the happiest day of my life.” She scanned the images with misty eyes and then scooted the book closer to Nick. “Here’s Papa again. I’ll never forget how he cried the whole way as he walked me down the aisle. And here’s your Papa Stamatis.”
Nick looked closer. “But how. I thought he died in the war.”
“That was your great-grandfather. This is his father, your great-great-grandfather, Nickolai Stamatis. The man you’re named after. He lived well into his seventies.” She pointed to another picture. “And this is your great-uncle John, your grandfather’s older brother.” Nota glanced to the ceiling as she did the silent math. “He was twenty-five here, I believe. We lost him back in 2003. Such a dear man.”
All of these Stamatis men living to old age was news to Nick.
“Why didn’t I hear about these guys when I was growing up? I never met any great-uncles.”
“Of course you did,” she assured him. “You were just too young to remember.”
“Nota, I was eighteen in 2003. I’d remember.”
She turned the page. “John moved to California in the late eighties so you would have been very young the last time you saw him and we didn’t attend the funeral.” Adjusting the reading glasses on her nose, she said, “Here we are now. Your father’s first baby picture.” The image was in black and white and low quality, but the tuft of dark hair and disgruntled look were clearly visible. “He was the love of my life from the moment I heard his first cry.”
Leaning closer, Nick saw similarities with his own baby pictures. The same unruly hair, round face, and plump cheeks. Though to be fair, that described most newborns.
“Was he a good baby?”
Chuckling, she brushed her hand over the image. “He came into the world the same way he lived the rest of his life—loudly and with great enthusiasm. I didn’t sleep at all for the first year, and even the neighbors complained about the noise. That’s why we bought the house. So we would stop disturbing people on the other side of those thin apartment walls.”
As she continued to turn pages, Nick felt as if he were traveling through time. The clothing and hair changed with each new decade, but the faces stayed the same. There were pictures of his father and grandfather together that Nick had never seen before, and he recognized the pride in his dad’s eyes whenever he stood next to his own father. The same hero worship that he’d felt as a kid.
Memories floated back as they reached the years when Nick and Mia were young. The four of them in front of the Christmas tree. Mom and Mia the day of her first communion. Dad and Nota together in the kitchen. He often said she taught him everything he knew.
They finally reached the end of the book and instead of pictures, the space was filled with a Stamatis family tree that branched out wide across two pages.
At the bottom were Nick and Mia, and the tree grew from there. What caught Nick’s eye was a string of Stamatis men on the same level as his father, all of which had birthdates but no death dates.
“Could Mia not find the details on everyone?” he asked.
“Oh, no. She got everyone for the first four generations.”
Nick pointed to the four men he’d never heard of. “Who are these?”
“Those are John’s sons, your father’s cousins. They all stayed on the West Coast so I’ve only ever seen pictures of them. It would be nice to have a reunion so we could all be in the same room at least once.”
“They’re alive?”
She leaned back in her chair. “Yes, they are. That’s why I’m showing this to you. If you won’t listen to us, maybe you’ll believe if you see the truth. Not all Stamatis men die young, dear boy. In fact, other than Alexander, who died in the war, your father and grandfather are the only ones who left us too soon.”
Struggling to process this news, Nick stared at the names before him. According to their birthdates, they were all in their eighties and each had multiple descendants, both children and grandchildren. One, another Nickolai, even had great-grandchildren.
“I never knew,” he murmured as his world shifted beneath him.
The fate he’d accepted long ago faded into something brighter. Something that allowed him to consider so many more possibilities. At the same time, the injustice of his life crystallized. The randomness of who got to live and who didn’t. Of who had to lose those most important to them and who got to keep their families whole.
Nota laid her gnarled hand over his. “You have not been given a death sentence. Don’t let this belief of yours keep you from fully living anymore. Please. If not for yourself, then for me. I want to see you happy before I go.”
Feeling as if he’d been handed a reprieve from his worst fears, Nick looked her in the eye. “I’ll do my best to try. For both of us.”
10
Nick Stamatis was not Lauren’s favorite person right now. He was the reason she had bruises on her knees, calluses on her hands, and sweat in places she didn’t want to think about.
She and Mona had survived the first course but finished second to Deborah’s team. Which was humiliating considering they’d had the advantage of having only two members. The fewer members, the less time it should take, but by the time they’d crossed the fourth obstacle, Mona had received two warnings for language. The park took a strong stance to protect the ears of their younger patrons, and a third warning would have put them off the course entirely.
By the end, they’d found colorful ways to express their frustration, such as fudge bucket, mother heifer, and Lauren’s new favorite, son of a dumpster fire. She was even considering posting them in the kitchen as suggested alternatives.
Despite their second place finish though, they were still in the running for the advantage since the final time would include both the first and second courses. The second was two levels up, which put them forty feet off the ground. Jackson had done his best, but had been unable to force himself up to the higher level, which left two teams with two members. Axel and Penny were both young and agile so if Mona and Lauren were going to win, they’d need to move fast.
Unfortunately, fast was not in Mona’s vocabulary.
“We’re so close,” Lauren encouraged. “This is the last one. You can do this.”
“The chairs are moving,” Mona snapped.
They’d already traversed a similar obstacle below, but up here, the chairs were strung together with two feet of space between them instead of against each other like before.
“Everything is moving. The quicker you get over here, the quicker we get off this contraption. The next part is on the ground, remember?” A quick check of the competition revealed Penny crossing a giant spider web of rope while Axel waited on the other side. “We’re going to lose; just get on the damn chairs!”
“Language!” came a voice over a bullhorn.
If Lauren ever found the source of those warnings, she was going to tell them exactly where they could stick that horn.
“All right. All right. I’m coming.”
Mona stepped onto the first chair and Lauren said, “Faster.”
The other woman stopped and glared. “Are you going to harass me all the way across because I will stay over here just to pi…” She caught herself in time. “Just to tick you off.”
“Fine.” Lauren leane
d back against the pole. “I’ll shut up.”
“That would be a first,” her partner mumbled.
When Mona was four chairs from the end, Lauren checked on Penny and found her struggling in the middle of the web.
“We’ve got a chance, Mona. We can still get that advantage.”
Finding some reserve of courage, the woman bolted across the last few chairs and together they did a victory dance on the platform before zip lining back to the tower. Lauren was starting to enjoy that part. Gliding on a strap four stories off the ground did not sound like something she should enjoy, but the wind in her hair combined with the gorgeous view over the water was actually kind of soothing.
She waited for Mona to reach the center and helped her inside. They both turned to Everette, who always seemed to be wherever they landed. “Did we win?”
He wrote the time from his stopwatch down on his clipboard and looked up with a smile. “You did.”
The victory dance commenced as they spun in circles, wrapped in a sweaty hug. Separating, they high-fived and Lauren realized she hadn’t touched let alone hugged another person in longer than she could remember. Well, except for Nick, but this was not the time to think about that.
Penny and Axel popped through another door of the tower, followed less than a minute later by Deborah and her team coming in from another direction.
“How did you like the courses?” Everette asked.
Mona growled and Lauren cut in to save the young man’s life. “These were great but what’s our advantage?”
“I’ll tell you once we get to the hill.”
“The hill?” Deborah repeated.
“Yes, ma’am. Let’s get you unclipped and we can head out.”
Once they were free of the belay, Lauren felt the loss of the safety cord. As they marched behind Everette down the narrow walkway, picking up Jackson on the way, she realized that she’d come to trust the safety harness.
Too bad life didn’t come with one of those.
“Here we are,” their guide said as they reached the beach.
Ahead of them was a steep mound of sand, at the base of which was a pool of water. Identical pools flanked the hill on both sides. At different points up the mound, objects similar to the ones on the courses were embedded in the sand, and a bright-red flag waved at the top.
“What is this?” Lauren asked.
“This is where you come together as a team. Because you and Mona had the fastest combined time on the courses, you get to be the callers.”
“What are we calling?” Mona asked.
“Instructions.” Pointing to the flag, he said, “The goal is to get everyone up there.”
“So we’re just climbing the hill?” Axel said.
“Yes, but it isn’t as easy as it sounds.” Everette lifted a mesh bag off a hook at the end of the walkway. “These are blindfolds. You’ll all be wearing them, and it’s Mona and Lauren’s job to talk you up the hill, making sure you don’t fall off.”
Lauren stared at the hill, looking for the catch when Mona said, “Bless the Lord, we get to stay on the ground.”
“Not necessarily. You and Lauren have to get to the top first, and you’ll give the instructions from up there.”
“Then how is this an advantage?” she asked.
“You aren’t in danger of getting wet,” Deborah answered.
Everette’s smile widened. “Actually, they are. Though they get to climb without the blindfold, they will be attached to each of you as you work your way up. If you fall, so do they.”
No wonder they were still wearing the harnesses.
Penny clapped and said, “This sounds fun.”
“Not the time,” Deborah snapped. “Let’s get this over with.”
An extra-long strap was attached to both Lauren and Mona’s harness, and then a narrow bridge was laid across the bottom puddle—though puddle was an understatement. They used the various buried objects to haul themselves to the top. Lauren had no idea how the order was decided, but Axel was attached to Mona’s cord first, then blindfolded, led over the bridge, and helped onto the base of the hill. The bridge was then removed and Everette yelled for them to start.
Lauren spoke first. “Take three steps up and reach out for the barrel!”
“What the hell are you doing?” Mona asked. “If I’m the one who gets wet if he falls, then I’m the one who gets to give the orders.”
“We’re both supposed to get them up here,” Lauren argued. The woman was more likely to cuss her teammates out than to have enough patience to guide them all the way up.
“It is not going to kill you to let someone else take the lead for once. This is supposed to be team building. So trust your teammate.”
Attempting to embrace the experience, she held her hands up in surrender. “Fine. But keep him close to the center and don’t forget to describe exactly what he should be reaching for.”
“Woman, I will throw you off this damn hill. You are seriously testing how badly I want this job.”
Lauren clamped her mouth shut. So much for any bonding they’d done on the course.
Less than a minute later, Axel joined them at the top, and the team below cheered the victory. Brit went next, attached to Lauren’s tether. She too made the journey with little trouble, and they progressed through the rest of the process until Jackson remained at the bottom alone.
Everette attached him to Lauren with a click and yelled up, “He’s all yours.”
As she kneeled on the hard sand, Lauren’s palms began to sweat. Jackson was the largest of the group, outweighing her by at least a hundred pounds. He was also the oldest, and with his fear of heights, was going to be the most difficult to get to the top.
“Focus on my voice,” she said. “Take one step to your right, and then start climbing. I’ll tell you when you get close to the barrel.” Jackson did as ordered. “Okay, less than a foot up from your right hand is the top of the barrel. Slowly reach up until you can feel it.”
As he extended his arm, sand fell out from under his left foot and he slid down. Lauren nearly went flying when Mona yelled, “Grab her!”
Strong arms wrapped around her middle, knocking the breath from her lungs but keeping her on the hill.
“Are we allowed to do this?” Axel said.
Lauren turned to see him holding Mona and Deborah holding him.
She looked down the hill, expecting to hear Everette tell them to let go, but he remained silent. So it was by any means necessary. All righty then.
“We’ve got this, guys. Just don’t let go.” To Jackson she yelled, “You’re doing great, buddy. Get your footing and try again.”
He did so and when his hand gripped the barrel, Lauren let out the breath she didn’t realized she was holding.
“Good job. Pull yourself up and once you feel yourself get level with the barrel, you should be able to reach the chair arm on your left.”
When his hips were even with the barrel, his left arm flailed about, finding nothing but air.
Lauren was pulled forward again, and Mona’s arms tightened. She patted the woman’s wrist. “I need to breathe.”
“You want to breathe or you want to live?”
If she hadn’t been in such a precarious position, Lauren would have laughed at the contradictory question.
“Slow movements, Jackson,” she called. “Come up a little higher. There you go. Okay, the handle is right there.”
His hand connected with wood and his head dropped with relief, but they still had another fifteen feet to go. This is where the objects spread out more so she had to decide whether to keep him in the middle, trusting his ability to climb without the handholds, or chance sending him closer to the edge to find assistance.
Deciding he would be the best judge, she said, “Jackson, do you think you can climb up using just the sand?”
After a brief hesitation, he said, “I can try.”
The man was the definition of a team player. “I need you to
be certain. It’s okay if you need the extra help to pull yourself up. I just need to know what will work best for you.”
“I need the help,” he replied. “There’s a metal ring somewhere close, isn’t there?”
He must have studied the course while everyone else went up.
“Yes. It’s about two feet above you, but nearly three feet to your left.” Dropping his belly to the sand, he pushed up and slid sideways, using the barrel as a step. “That’s good. You’re almost there.”
Strong fingers touched metal and he yelled, “I’ve got it!”
She talked him past two more objects to reach the most difficult section where the remaining items had been embedded much farther apart. A wooden post jutted out of the sand on his right, but was perilously close to the edge, while the small tire on his left was farther away from his current position. Without something to keep his feet planted, Jackson could easily tumble down the hill, taking the rest of them down with him.
“I need you to move very slowly through this next part,” she said, keeping her voice as calm as possible. “There’s a peg on your right.”
“It’s too far out,” Dodge whispered. “Send him the other way.”
Lauren shook her head. “He can do this.” Raising her voice, she said, “Push yourself up a little higher, and crawl your fingers over the sand up and to your right.”
Despite his best efforts, the post was still far out of reach.
“Change to put your left foot on the plank so you can scoot more to the right.”
“I can’t watch,” Penny said.
“No, I think she’s right,” Deborah said. “If he takes his time, he can do this.”
Jackson set his forehead on the sand as he edged his right foot off the support and quickly switched to his left. He then flopped once more, extending his right arm as far as he could. A second later his fingers grazed the post, but missed, sending his body weight hurling toward the edge.
“Come back!” Lauren screamed. Mona cursed up a blue streak but held on tight.
Jackson caught himself, lying still except for his head lulling back and forth on the sand. “I’m not going to make it.”