Page 44 of The Ghost of You

She closes her eyes and the tears fall freely. I use my thumbs to wipe them away as she finds the courage to speak.

“Seven years ago I lost my fiancé.”

I hold her tighter, bring her closer to me. I know what that kind of loss is like even if my wife didn’t die like it sounds her fiancé did.

“We got into a fight. I told him to leave. He did.” Her entire body shakes when she goes to continue. “It was December in Georgia. Colder than it usually is. It was raining earlier in the day but it dropped below freezing at night. He slid on black ice. He tried to cut the wheel to keep from sliding into a tree. He hit the brakes too hard. His car flipped. He bled out from broken glass.”

Her voice is monotone as she tells the story. My hands gripping her shoulders tighter and tighter with every word she says. I don’t think she even realizes the hold I have on her. She has separated herself from this moment. As if the memory is so fresh she isn’t even here. And it takes one hell of a memory to bring you back seven years to relive it repeatedly.

I don’t have words to say. I know she doesn’t need another person to tell her they are sorry. She’s heard it enough. And I can only guess that her family is telling her to get over it, move on, the same way my family treats me.

She tries to reach her face and I let go of her so she can wipe the tears from her eyes. “My family wants me to move on. And I know I should, but it’s too hard to think about moving on when you blame yourself for the death. If only I hadn’t started fighting. If I had listened to him, believed him. Then maybe we would be happily married.”

“You can’t think about what might have been.”

She finally meets my eyes. “I know. But going home is so hard, Noah. My hometown is filled with memories of him and I. We were best friends growing up. Then we started dating. I could barely cross Main Street without the waterworks coming on whenever I was back in Hartswell. That’s why it’s so hard to go back.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “I understand more than you know.”

“And I am a terrible daughter and horrible sister because I can’t even see my family without the wounds feeling fresh?”

“Have you told them that?”

She nods. “At first they thought I needed time. And they were accepting of the fact I left and couldn’t return. But now with every year that passes, they become more bitter. I didn’t even read this letter. I didn’t want to see what they had to say. I left it crumpled on the kitchen floor.”

I take my gloves off. Our project for the day is done. “You work tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you call off?”

She looks at me curiously. “I suppose. Why?”

I grab her hands and take the pink gloves off. “Tonight calls for a visit from the three wise men. Or at least one.”

A small smile finally breaks her face. “As long as Jim is around.”

I smile back at her. “Oh he is definitely here.”

“What about the railing?”

I grab the power tools and step off the porch. “It will be here tomorrow.”

“Let me make a quick phone call then.”

* * *

A few hourslater and both of us have had a fair share of whiskey. I’ve learned a lot about her though and she keeps me intrigued. I know her favorite food is lemon bars, she used to love winter but now prefers spring, and her favorite color is gray, because it’s the only color that can be sad, happy, and in between all at once.

Two half-eaten pizzas sit on her coffee table as we laugh over a story from her past. She said we had to hang at her place because it wasn’t a dust storm and I had to agree. I started some work on the kitchen cabinets earlier in the week and it is a mess.

Brutus is on the floor between us, laying on his stomach, legs sprawled out to the sides.

Anna picks up the bottle of Jim and pours us two more shots. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even tell you. My best friend Becca is now trying to convince me to come home when she never does because of something my sister said.”

“Bullshit. From what you told me about her, she has never cared about you coming home.”

“I know. It’s so fucking annoying. I just want them to leave me alone.”

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