“There’s no such thing as anonymous in this town,” he complains. “Everybody knows everybody.”
He has a point. “We could find another group. Maybe something in Timmons?” I follow him onto the landing. “You can’t keep living this way, Dad.”
“Suits me fine. The sooner my body gives out the better. I’ve waited long enough.”
It’s not technically a threat of self-injury, still I don’t like the implication of his words. As it is, I simply worry, nag, and try to distract myself with work. I’m a healer, but I can’t heal him. I think of the reason I went into this profession, and I feel like I’ve failed.
“I’m ordering Thai food. I’ll let you know when it’s here.”
“If I’m asleep don’t wake me.”
The door closes, and my shoulders drop. I walk over to where he was sitting in the chair, and look at the framed photo on the end table. My mother was so pretty, with raven hair and black eyes. Her cheekbones were high and her smile knowing. This particular photo has always reminded me of Natalie Wood.
Neither Danny nor I got her dark features. We got her olive skin tone, but otherwise, we were both fair like my dad. Now it’s only me. Stepping to the window, I place my palm against the glass. If I strain my eyes, I can see the tops of the marble monuments in our family cemetery over the hill and down a bit.
It’s where he lies now.
We didn’t know we’d lost Danny until weeks after it happened. I was at school when the soldiers came to the house with a flag and a letter signed by the President. I’m surprised my father even answered the door—he usually doesn’t.
Stoicism is how he responded.
He smiled tightly, took the flag, accepted their condolences.
We organized the funeral with the help of the officers. They spoke, talking about my brother’s stellar record of service. They presented us with his medals, and all I could think of was the carefree joker who loved to call me Drew Poo and who never stopped singing the Righteous Brothers.
How could someone so alive be dead?
I sat in that black dress on the front row next to my silent father feeling like a cannonball had been blasted through my chest. I didn’t cry until Ruby’s mother came
to me with tears in her eyes.
She was so sorry she hadn’t prayed to Jesus and the Buddha that day for my brother’s protection. She had planned to do it as soon as she got home from volunteering as church secretary. She felt so guilty.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her my belief in such things had been blasted to kingdom come along with my brother’s body.
Along with my heart.
The clouds glow neon pink in the setting sun and the pale blue sky stretches for miles over the trees, over the ocean.
I would text Gray every few weeks after it happened. When I was angry, I would demand to know why he wasn’t here. How could he not come home when I needed him? When the pain felt like it was too much to bear, I would text him the simple words, I miss you.
My mind drifts to the earlier text I read, and with my forehead against the cool glass, I whisper, “How could you disappear on me, Gray? You promised…”
Three years I dreamed of him. One year, I sank into despair. I can’t seem to let go. Maybe Ruby is right. Maybe I’m no different than my patients, cloaking myself in a failed relationship to save me from finding something new and real.
It sounds good.
God, is it time to move on? Is it possible I could do such a thing? My head says I should try. The only problem is my heart can’t let him go.
Something in me knows he’s coming back.
The feeling grows stronger with each passing day.
I’m simply waiting for it to happen.
And when it does…
Chapter 6