Chapter 19 - The New MapBy the time spring thawed the snow off Chestnut Street, the map of the United States taped to Diego’s bedroom wall was no longer just a collection of colored states.
Around the borders, we had pinned photographs from our trips: Diego fighting a halibut in Alaska, Diego standing beside a giant redwood in California, Diego smiling with a lodge cook in Oregon.
The spare bedroom no longer felt like a ghost room belonging to the past. It smelled of cedarwood, fresh paint, and old books.
Marisol came over for Sunday dinner, bringing a pie from the local bakery and a final, stamped legal document releasing all remaining trust restrictions into an independent college fund for Diego.
"You're officially off the hook, Art," Marisol smiled, setting the folder on the kitchen table as Diego set the dinner plates out. "No more subpoenas, no more emergency midnight calls. Just quiet boring life."
"Quiet sounds pretty good right about now," I replied, handing her a mug of coffee.
Diego sat down at the table, folding his hands neatly in front of him, his brass compass resting right beside his fork.
"Grandpa?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"When are we going back to Alaska?"
May you like
I looked across the table at Marisol, then down at the boy who had walked out of the dark cold night and taught me what family actually meant.
"Soon as school's out, buddy," I smiled. "Pack your map."
