I take a sip of coffee, and as I place my mug on Des’s nightstand, I graze her journal. Only I don’t pull away; I pause, my hand resting on the embossed cover, and pick it up. It’s weighty in my grasp, stuffed with Polaroids and ticket stubs from concerts. Almost instantly my mind begins sketching, not one image but many, a portrait of Des—the way she looked the last time I saw her write in it, bent over on the floor of her room much like I am now. I sketch the scent of her chocolate-chip pancakes, the sound of her laugh. And as the drawings evolve, I smile at them, promising for the first time that they won’t just live in my thoughts. Ella was right; in a way my art has always been a conversation with Des, with the world, a way to communicate when I didn’t know how.
I run my finger down the journal cover and open it to a ribbon marker. I always thought that opening this was a violation of her privacy. And maybe it is. But damn, I miss my sister, and the pull of reading something she wrote outweighs the rest.
I clear my throat, reading aloud.
It’s the last Friday before school starts, but I don’t mind. I’ll miss summer, but I also long for autumn sweaters, pumpkin spice hot chocolate, and taking August and Tiny on a very important homemade ice cream / leaf peeping trip to New Hampshire. I can actually hear them in August’s room laughing right now. Or snorting might be a better way to describe it? I’m so glad he has her. I know I write that a lot, but these past few years with Mom have been hard. And more than that, I’m so glad I have them. They don’t know it, but they ground me with their joy.
I look up at Tiny, whose eyes are brimming. And I smile, grateful for the time I got with my sister and for every day I have with her.
Maybe Tiny was right years ago when she wondered if there might be lots of us out there, lots of Tinys and Augusts best-friending it up. And now I secretly hope there are. She never gave up on me, never deemed me too difficult or too broken. And while the weight of losing Des almost crushed me, I realize that I still have someone I can count on, that I’m not alone. Everyone deserves a best friend like Tiny.