Page 60 of This Is How It Started
“Hey, babe,” I say, reaching out and tracing the Hebrew lettering on the marker with my finger. Here lies Josh Ackermann.
I’m angry and confused but somehow feel better just sitting here next to him. It’s as if his love for me rises from the earth and envelops me like a winter shawl.
“I miss you,” I say. “I miss us.” I pause almost as if I think he’ll respond.
“I miss you, too, Rach.” Then I’ll tell him I’m okay, that he shouldn’t worry about me, even though I’m not.
“Josh? How come you never told me about Beth Hardesty?” I ask foolishly, hoping that he’ll at least send me a sign from beyond. A breeze, a whiff of his scent, a small earthquake. Something. “I found her text messages in your email and don’t understand why you kept her a secret from me. Why you never spoke of her. It’s weird, don’t you think? I mean, we shared everything with each other. I told you about Campbell and my miscarriage. Not even my parents or Hannah know about that. If you loved this Beth Hardesty woman, you should’ve told me because now I’m faced with wondering if the reason you didn’t is because she means more to you than I did. Were you afraid to tell me the truth? I would’ve loved you no matter what. You know that, right?”
I move closer to Josh’s gravestone, ridiculously believing that he’s trying to talk to me, and I can’t hear him over the din of the 280. But there’s nothing. Not so much as a whisper of wind.
I leave as confused as when I came, but my heart is full having talked to him.
Chapter 21
Fate and Destiny
I wrap Campbell and Jess’s home warranty along with a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, a box of salt and a bag of sugar in a big basket and tie it with a bow. I also include a card to explain the bread, salt and sugar, a weird thing to give someone in the twenty-first century but a Jewish housewarming tradition just the same. It was my mother’s idea.
“Bread, so you will never know hunger. Salt, so your life will always have flavor, and sugar, so your life will always have sweetness.”
I stuff the basket into the back seat of my car and get to the Craftsman on Liberty before Campbell and Jess.
Driving has become better for me. I don’t flinch every time I see an oncoming car. I also don’t slam on my brakes every five seconds, which gets me to where I need to be a lot faster. Am I ready to drive the Autobahn? Probably not. But at least I’ve made progress since the accident.
I leave the basket in the car but grab my purse and wait at the front door. Campbell arrives a few minutes later.
“Hey!” I wave, wearing my big real estate smile as he comes down what can loosely be called the walkway. It’s so overgrown with weeds that the flagstone is mostly hidden. “Where’s Jess?”
“She can’t make it. She has a work thing.”
Something about the way he says it makes me think there’s more to the story. Besides that, it seems weird that she would miss this. It’s their first home purchase together. A pretty damn big deal if you ask me.
When Josh and I got our rental apartment, we could barely contain our excitement. Even before the lease was a done deal, we bought all new furniture for the place. On the day we got our keys, we went first thing in the morning, sat on the floor in the empty apartment and celebrated with a bottle of champagne before the movers came.
I rearrange my face to hide my surprise and pretend that a lot of clients do it this way. And to be fair, the house is such a wreck that it might be more meaningful to Jess when Campbell fixes it up.
“Then we’ll take lots of photos for her,” I say in a chipper voice. “You ready to go inside?”
“Sure.” But he doesn’t seem as excited as I thought he’d be.
I hand him the key and get ready to snap the first picture of him going inside. He opens the door, and I get the shot. For promotional purposes, it would’ve been better if Jess was there too. A gorgeous, young couple, looking ecstatic as they enter their new house is the money shot of course. But it is what it is.
That funky smell assails us as soon as we get inside. Campbell certainly has his work cut out for him. But when he’s done, the place will be stunning. I know it.
I snap a few more pictures of Campbell holding the keys, standing in the center of the living room, and then coerce him outside so I can shoot him next to the sold sign. He’s a good sport about it, though I can tell he isn’t thrilled.
“Let’s go back inside,” he says, his hand toying with the tape measure clipped to his belt. He’s anxious to get going on a plan.
“I have to get something from the car. I’ll meet you inside.” I go back for the basket. Jess probably would’ve appreciated the pretty cellophane wrapping more than Campbell. Oh well.
“You see this?” Campbell asks when I find him in the kitchen, fidgeting with a long narrow cabinet.
“What is it?”
He opens the door and pulls down an ancient ironing board. “Pretty cool, huh?” His lopsided grin does the thing to my insides that it used to do.
I chalk it up to how excited I am for him. “It’s very cool. This is for you and Jess.” I hand him the basket, suddenly wanting very much to leave. I tell myself that Jess should be sharing this moment with him, not me.
