Page 48 of Shape Of My Heart
He nodded. “It’s my fault. My fault my mother and my sister aren’t here anymore. Myfault.”
Her heart clenched as she beheld the pitiful sight of him, and she leaned forward to touchhisface.
“Josh. It’s not your fault.” She felt bad again that she hadn’t considered that he might blame himself for his mother and sister’sdeaths.
“They were coming to see me. They were coming to watch the game because I insisted. I just thought that it would be a big one because we’d won the Super Bowl two years in a row. I didn’t want them to miss it. I didn’t know that meant never seeing themagain.”
As he sobbed she slid down to the floor in front of him and put her arms around him so she could hold him. He held her, too, really held her as if forsupport.
“It’s not your fault, Josh. You’ll be able to see that one day, but until then you can’t blame yourself.” That was the best that she couldtellhim.
He pulled away and looked at her. “It’ssohard.”
“I know, but you candoit.”
He sighed and looked away, over to the window as the curtains blew out against the evening breeze. Josh then returned his gaze to her and took hold of both her hands. “I need to stop drinking, but I think I need help. And I need you. I need you. I can’t do any of this without you.” That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. “If you hadn’t gotten me to the show on Friday, they would have cut me from the team. They wouldn’t have wanted to, but they would have had to. That would have been the end of mycareer.”
She’d never met this version of him before. Seeing him like this made her care even more, and she wanted to help him in whatever way shecould.
“You have me.” She smiled and leaned into him as he pulled her within the warmth of hisembrace.
“Thank you,” he whispered against her hair as he rested his headagainsthers.
* * *
It wastime to facereality.
Time to face the music, aspeoplesaid.
Josh spoke with Amy for a long time last night. Then there was all the stuff with the police. Corey came by, furious with him for putting him through hell because he thought that he’d been with the police for the sole purpose of identifying Josh’s body if they found him at the bottom of Dead Man’sGorge.
Josh had never seen Corey look so mad, and so worried. When he first came in he shoved Josh hard in his shoulder and looked like he’d knock him out. Then he ranted on about the way Josh was living and said that no later than this week he’d arrange for him to see a therapist. It was only when Josh agreed quickly that Coreycalmeddown.
When Corey and Hilda left, Josh asked Amy to stay because the real test for him was resisting any form of drink. Amy had gotten rid of everything in the house, but around these parts alcohol was always available somewhere, and there were always people eager to please the ManciniMachine.
He was grateful when she agreed, and even more grateful when she managed to talk to him as if nothing had happened. She got him talking about football and that distracted him from his routine of drowning himself in his toxic mixture of drinks and concourse ofwomen.
He was determined to change now. Now morethanever.
He wanted to play football again, and he wanted to be the best. He wanted to be the man his family was proud of when they came to watch his games. He wanted to be Joshua Manciniagain.
To do that there was one thing he had to make himself do first. That was to go to thecemetery.
He woke early. Amy was still downstairs asleep on the sofa. He’d felt bad that she didn’t get home last night and he should have at the least taken her up to the guest room. But she’d fallen asleep there and he didn’t want to wake her. He felt she’d been through enough for the day so he got her a blanket and coveredherup.
He wouldn’t wake her now, either. She’d woken up early enough for him over the last few weeks. So, he left her a note then packed a few things to make the long journey to San Francisco. Corey had arranged to get his Range Rover back for him. Josh was gratefulforthat.
He made it there in good time, despite the back up of traffic ontheroad.
There was a morning funeral being conducted when he entered the grounds and the grief-stricken faces of the family reminded him of the mourners at his mother and sister’sfuneral.
Josh looked away and continued along the path to where his mother andsisterwere.
He hated anything like this. He hated the morbid setting, the feeling. Everything. There were no good feelings here. Only what usedtobe.
People who usedtobe.
Josh had always hated cemeteries as a child and thought they were a sure place to be haunted. Not much could scare him, but ghost stories always did the job. His first funeral, at age ten, was his grandmother’s. His mother’s mother. That had been terrible. It was also a wakeup call to him, letting him see that people he knew could die. But nothing was as devastating as when his mother and sister were killed.Nothing.
