Page 110 of Unstable

I’M NOT REALLY FINE. I’m sad as hell. But I’m taking it better than I thought I would.

It might be because it’s a dog versus a person, or the fact that I’m older and sadly, accustomed to loss. Whatever the reason, I feel like I’ve made huge leaps and bounds.

I mean sure, I might be sitting out on the roof like I’m fifteen again and can’t handle shit with my feet on the ground, but I’m not drinking, there’s not currently a thunderstorm and I have no desire to pack my stuff and run, so it’s progress in my book.

And peaceful.

At least for now.

I can hear Keaton in the house yelling my name, more frantically each time, but he’ll figure it out soon. And when he does, I’ll be a new kind of “not fine.” Of the “in trouble” variety, thus ending the peace I’m out here trying to find in the first place.

So I stare up at the stars, taking long inhales and slower exhales, sending my final wishes and thoughts into the atmosphere with the little time I have left.

Here he comes. You could hear his big, booted feet thumping up the stairs a mile away, while wearing earplugs.

The window slides up… and we have detonation. As expected.

“Henley Gene Calvert,” he barks. “I know you’re upset, but what’d I say about the roof, woman? I seem to recall offering to stay with you to avoid situations just like this.”

“You said no roof while there’s a storm or a bottle of wine involved. Neither of those things are in effect,” I bark right back. “And may I remind you, I spent many nights on this roof when I was younger, without your interference, and managed just fine.”

“You know I’m coming out after you, right? Don’t move,” he grumbles and I watch, amused, as he pulls off his boots then once again, barely squeezes himself through the window. He’s no small man by any means and the window is, so his successful struggle is both comical and impressive.

He steps carefully and takes a seat at my side. “I don’t know which I should be more concerned about. The fact that you think this is safe and don’t listen to a damn thing I say, or the fact you came out here. Tells me you’re not okay, baby. What can I do?”

“You already did it, didn’t you?” I gulp. “Got him buried? Told the Kings?”

“Yes to both.” He puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him, laying a soft kiss on my temple. “But you need something more or you wouldn’t be out here. Tell me what it is and I’ll give it to you.”

I lay my head on his shoulder and sigh. “There’s nothing else you can do. Holding me is all I need. I just came out here because, never mind, it’s silly.”

“You know I won’t think so. Nothing you’re thinking or feeling is silly and I want to help. Please say it.”

“You laugh, I slap.”

“Got it,” he says without laughing at the warning.

“I feel like, up here, I’m closer to Heaven. I need to feel close to Heaven right now, so I can feel close to all of them.”

“Not silly at all, my precious girl.”

“I didn’t handle Hadley’s death well, to say the least. I wasn’t even here for my mother’s, death or life. And now Bourbon. I know he’s just a dog, but not to me. He was a companion, a huge part of the life I left, still waiting, just the same, when I came back to it. And I want to get this one right. I want to handle at least one death like a normal, caring person who doesn’t flip out or run away from it.”

I tilt my head up and look at him, finding warm eyes watching me with patience and love. “Does any of that make sense?”

“It absolutely does, baby. And while I’m not thrilled with the roof thing, if that’s what you need, we’ll sit here all night. And you are you know, handling this very well. You’ve grown, changed in certain ways, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, too sad to acknowledge that I might feel a bit of pride myself. “We can go in.”

“You sure? I’m out here with ya now, take all the time you need. Henny, baby, look,” he says excitedly and points to the sky.

I stare in wonder at the serendipitous shooting star and briefly close my eyes to make my wish, then open them to watch it disappear, burn out, into the vast darkness.

“Yeah,” I say with a new found solace, “I’m ready. Let’s go in.”

He stands first and gives me his hand, cautiously moving me to walk in front of him, his hands finding a sure grip on my hips. “I’m not sure if I put this on the list and you just forgot,” his voice has a teasing lilt, “or if I was the one who forgot. But just to be sure, let me say, you need to ask me to join you before you traipse out here in the future. Serious, baby, put it on the list.”

“Won’t matter.” I climb back through the window then step out of the way for him to do the same. “Not gonna be living here much longer and I have no immediate plans to camp out on the roof that will belong to the Kings. Might be rude. And a little creepy.”

---