Page 36 of Love is Blind

I know that feeling—experienced it this morning. It didn’t dawn on me earlier—why I felt so content— but now, hearing Leftie tell his story, it hits me. I woke up and for the first time I wasn’t haunted by Abigail’s death.

I push up on my feet and brush the dirt from my jeans.

“Peace,” I say, lifting my chin.

He nods in agreement and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah. It scared the hell out of me, and I left before she took the bacon out of the pan.”

It didn’t scare me in the least. If anything, it made me crave more and I should probably feel guilty about that.

“I had the tire fixed and the car in her driveway an hour later. Didn’t go into that coffee shop for a good month after that. Then one Sunday, I found my balls. I apologized to her, told her about Bea and Liam.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Cried my eyes out to that woman and made her understand I didn’t deserve peace.” He looks back at me. “Then I said those same words you just said to me.”

It’s supposed to get easier.

“You know what her response was?”

“They’re assholes?”

He chuckles again but shakes his head.

“No, Gertie didn’t curse. She said the hole gets smaller. I didn’t know what she meant by that and then she explained that every hole is just an opening in a surface and all surfaces are filled with matter. You pump that matter with enough joy and love, the surface will start to expand, and the hole will get smaller.”

I shake my head.

It’s a nice idea, but that’s all it is. My old man is proof that shit don’t work. He lost his wife, but he still had me and years later he had Abigail. He had things to live for, people to love and it didn’t change anything for him. I didn’t understand it then, but I get it now. Depression is real. People want to tell you how to feel, to snap out of it and fill the matter with joy, but we’re not all built the same.

Some of us can’t prevail.

Some don’t even try.

“I don’t have that in me,” I admit.

“I didn’t think I did either, but it came over time. I started going back to the coffee shop regularly, and one night she asked me to her place for dinner. We became friends and Gertie filled my matter. Stuffed it to the gills and the hole did get smaller. There isn’t a day I don’t think of Bea and Liam, but I’m not consumed by the grief or the guilt anymore.”

I’m glad Leftie got that, but I had a taste of peace this morning with Birdie and as blissful as it was, it also served as a reminder that I’m a man burdened by pain. I’m my father’s son, not Leftie’s.

“I know Bianca showin’ up like she did made the hole wider, but, son, you can’t keep going on like you are. Attacking her like you did—”

I cut him off.

“She’s the reason I’m standing in the cemetery talking to my daughter, Leftie.”

He cocks his head to the side and drops his hands.

“Reed, just because I wear Satan’s colors doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God. Redemption and reconciliation are part of life. I believe our sins are forgiven and that our souls are welcomed into paradise. Until that day comes, I believe the ones we’ve lost are watching and waiting.”

I roll my eyes.

“When the fuck did you become such a Holy Roller?”

The man probably hasn’t been to mass since his First Holy Communion and the only chapel he prays in is Maverick’s.

“C’mon Leftie, we sell guns to anyone who will buy them. We lie, cheat, and steal and when things don’t go our way, we kill. You and I got a lot of blood on our hands, ain’t no God absolving us of that shit.”

He stares at me wordlessly, then shakes his head.

“You’re even worse off than I thought.”

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