preparation for the fight against tears. Will this response ever go away? It’s been almost two years.
“Sadly, that’s true,” I say.
“How are your parents holding up?”
I appreciate the question because so few people ask about them, but I suppose adults see the loss from their own point of view. “They’re getting a divorce,” I say stiffly, surprised by my honesty.
“What’s the statistic about parents of a dead child? Close to ninety percent divorce?”
I shrug. “It would be nice to beat the odds, though.”
He pats my hand and shifts in his seat. “Let’s change the subject. I understand you’re on that list that does nothing but objectify lovely teenage girls.”
I’m grateful for the change of subject and even more so for someone who shares my disdain for the list. “Josh has really told you everything, hasn’t he?”
“We’re close,” he says again. “What number?”
Why dodge it? “Fifth.”
“Ah, excellent. High enough to be respectable, low enough not to piss off too many people.”
I can’t help but laugh at his dead-on assessment. “True.”
“You must be thrilled.”
Not so dead-on. “I don’t think it’s such a big deal.”
“I hear that it is.” And judging from this conversation, he hears everything.
More comfortable being honest now, I say, “I don’t think being recognized for something that has nothing to do with, you know, an accomplishment, is that important.”
He raises his glass in approval. “Good girl. You’re more worried about getting into college.”
“Absolutely. Getting into college is my number one priority right now.” Number two would be getting out of this boring conversation with an old man. I kind of want to go back to flirting with his grandson.
“Have you picked out a school?” he asks.
“Well, they have to pick me, but I have a few on my dream list.”
“Such as?”
“Columbia,” I tell him. Why not? We’ve already covered death and divorce. “I’d like to study the classics.”
His eyes light up. “Impressive. I like a girl with ambition.”
“Well, I have to get in first. And get a scholarship,” I add glumly. “So we’ll see.”
“You should try to get the Jarvis. I’d be delighted to give it to a girl for a change.”
I angle my head closer, certain I didn’t hear him correctly over the party noise. “The what?”
“The Jarvis.” When I shake my head, he laughs. “I guess we do a pretty good job of keeping it quiet, because the scholarship is really only for a Vienna High student, which was how Josh’s father willed it. Technically, it’s the Jarvis Aurelius Collier Memorial Scholarship.”
I just stare at him. “Jarvis is, was, your son?”
His eyes mist. “And a very great young man taken far too young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“But his legacy lives on, right back in Nacht Woods.” He angles his head toward the back of the house. “He’s buried there, too.”
I blink at the statement. I was certain Mrs. Russell had said that Josh’s parents died at sea and their bodies were never found.
“Not him, per se,” he adds quickly, seeing my response. “But the things that mattered to him. I made a place to honor him.”
The conversation is quickly slipping from boring to awkward, so I steal a glance over his shoulder to find Josh.
Rex catches me and inches sideways just enough to block my view. “In any case, Jarvis left a stipulation in his will that every year one junior or senior student from Vienna High can receive a full scholarship to the college of his choice—or hers,” he adds with a sly smile. “With no limits on how much that can be worth.”
Okay, not boring anymore. “How do I apply?”
He chuckles. “No application necessary, dear. You just have to finish the ropes course Jarvis built in Nacht Woods.” With a quick appraisal of my body, he makes a face of approval and lifts his gray brows. “You look fairly athletic.”
Not exactly. “I’m more of, you know, a Latin nerd. Any chance there’s an ancient classics version of the ropes course?”
“Latin will, in fact, give you quite an unfair advantage. You don’t play sports?”
“My mom is kind of overprotective and has an issue with sports waivers. As in she won’t sign them.” I let out a sigh. “Field trips, too.”
He can’t hide his disbelief. “Why, that’s … un-American. Josh is in every sport he can squeeze into his life and far better for it, just like his father was.”
“I did do gymnastics until …” Grief and guilt sidelined me. “A few years ago.”
“I hear the wistfulness in your voice, young lady.” He leans closer. “You loved it, didn’t you?”