Page 51 of Perfect Tragedy
I can’t help but wonder how he’s doing. How he’s dealing with the passing of his mother and my heart hurts for him because I know for a fact his mom continued to have an alcohol abuse problem until her death. I recall vividly how Blake felt about that and I can’t imagine it made a reconnection likely, but who knows. At least I’m assuming because he’s never been home - at least that I know of. I’m confident I would have heard though.. This town reveals every secret eventually I swear. And Blake is now known as one of the town’s military heroes. So yeah, I would have known if he was ever back before today.
Especially since now it’s all anyone in town seems to be talking about.
I actually snapped at some employees at work this week telling them to gossip less and take care of patients more. I felt bad for a few minutes knowing that it was the subject of the gossip that was really getting to me, but oh well, I’m human too.
The information I have about what Blake’s been up to over the years is minimal. Despite my requests to not tell me much, things still circulated. I know that he’s not with Hailey, but I don’t know how or why or even if they had a boy or girl - her family moved away a while back except for her brother and he’s not one for gossip, so I haven’t heard a thing. I do know that Blake lives in California as does Jack. They were both stationed there and have lived there ever since. Jack has invited me out to visit him several times over the years, but I’ve always come up with an excuse because I didn’t want to chance seeing Blake. It’s ridiculous to still be like that all these years later, I realize that, but the truth is that I’ve never really gotten over him.
It’s why I’ve never taken things to the next level with Jesse or any man I dated prior to him. I compared them all to Blake which perhaps is both pathetic and unfair. We never had anything. I see that clearly now. It was all just a stupid girl crush, a significant and deep one from my perspective, but the truth is the feelings I had for him, the way seeing him or talking to him made me feel was far more impactful than even I can believe at times, and certainly far more meaningful than what Jesse or anyone else made me feel.
Jesse.
His announcement at dinner took me more than a little off guard. In the days since he’s wanted an answer and has sent me information about Oregon and the area we’d live in an attempt to try to lure me further. I confess that part of me has been considering it. I’ve always wanted to visit Oregon, and I mean, Jesse loves me. I think I could be happy with him - he’s a good man. But is that enough?
In truth, the other part of me, perhaps the more honest and wise part, knows that since my immediate reaction to his invitation wasn’t a resounding ‘yes, absolutely’ and that I truly had no heartfelt desire to go anywhere with him - hell I didn’t even want to move in with him – that clearly being with him, being together, is not a decision that would be true to my heart. So why am I postponing telling him? Truth is, things with Jesse have likely run their course and I need to tell him so. It’s just that he’s been so kind and I kept telling myself that maybe with time, my feelings would change. But that’s not going to occur. And I know that is the truth. It would be unfair to keep him waiting longer. I’m not sure why it took him asking me for this commitment for me to confront the truth, but different situations require different catalysts, I’ve learned.
Walking into the funeral home where the service will be held before we head to the grave site, I do my best to push these thoughts aside for now. I take a moment to look down at myself and smooth my black dress making a final appraisal. It seems quite vain given the circumstances, but I’m incredibly aware that this is the first time I’ll see Blake in years. I know the years have been kind, I still look relatively the same – in fact, mainly even better - but I allow myself a moment of insecurity before I brush it off, push my shoulders back and lift my chin.
Jack immediately comes into my line of sight. As if he knows what I’m thinking he looks at me with a smile before approaching me, crooking his elbow out for me to link my arm through, “You look great,” he says and I could hug him.
“Well, you look handsome,” I tell him. He does in his dress blues. He’s going to make some girl very happy one day.
“I’ve missed you,” his eyes turn sad. “What will it take for you to come visit me?”
I feel bad immediately, “We can talk about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I just…”
He’s kind giving me an excuse, “I know work keeps you busy and aside from that you’ve been a rock to dad when I haven’t been able to be. And have I told you thank you for that? It won’t be long and my commitment will be done and I’ll be able to be around more, help more.”
“It’s okay, Jack. I’ve always understood that.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s been easy for you and I know that.”
“Thanks for saying that.”
“Oh and we also need to talk later,” he says.
“About what?”
“What is this I hear about your being asked to move away?”
“Oh god, dad told you.”
His eyes are shining with humor, “Shut up,” I tell him. “We’ll talk about that later too.” He squeezes his arm closer to his body which pulls me closer - a hug of affection which I wholeheartedly return.
As soon as we walk into the funeral home, the smell of lilies is overwhelming. There are already several people lingering around the reception area speaking in hushed tones. There are some core members of Mason Creek that would die before missing an event of any kind - including a funeral. If you ask me it’s because the information they’ll potentially gain from the event will help sustain their gossip needs for days afterward. Not to mention they just want to be able to say they were there when whatever may happen happens. God forbid something were to transpire and they’d miss witnessing it in person. Small town life can be wonderful, but that’s the part I could do without.
We weave in and out of people constantly getting stopped by people wanting to greet Jack, happy to see him and ask how he’s doing. Some things never change - like their love for my brother. It makes me smile at how much his attention is sought and the fact that he’s always cordial and kind. I suppose that’s one of the reasons he’s loved so much.
When we walk into the main room where the casket is at the front of the room and chairs are set up for the service, I immediately see Blake standing at the front of the room. My heart begins beating triple time and I gasp quietly at the sight of him.
Time has been kind to him as well.
Same dark hair of course, but instead of the buzz cut that he last sported, it’s grown out. I can see tracks that indicate he’s been running his hands through it over and over - an old habit that brings an easy smile, a little familiarity. Strong chin, cheekbones and full lips. He’s got a furrow between his brow as he listens and nods to whomever he is speaking. He’s got a new accessory too - glasses - and my god they only make him look more attractive.
My chest tightens at the fact that we’re in the same room after all these years. I feel like I can’t breathe.
