Little Things (Second Chances 1)

I head upstairs to finish getting dressed and comb my hair before I go back downstairs to make a quick bowl of cereal. Breakfast of champions. I quickly gobble up the cereal and grab my phone to call Auburn Correctional Facility. The operator tells me that normal visiting hours are between the hours of nine a.m. and twelve noon on the first and third Wednesday of each month for those with the last names A through L and Thursdays for those with the last names M through Z. She tells me that two visitors can visit at one time and anything more than two requires a special visitation request. I thank her for the information and hang up the phone.

The next visiting day for Craig is next Thursday. I jot down everything I want to ask him, but I know I have an allotted time slot, so it can’t be too many questions. And that’s if he even answers them, which I doubt he will, but maybe his cockiness will leave a hint or two.

As I think of questions to ask, my mom comes downstairs and gives me a quick hug. She squeezes tightly and kisses me softly on the cheek before lets go and heads into the kitchen.

“What was that for?”

She sighs, “I know what day it is and just want to make sure you’re doing okay. I want you to know how much I love you.”

I smile, walk up to her, and pick her up, pulling her into a bear hug. She cries out as I squeeze her and smacks me to put her down. I laugh as I easily set her back on the ground. She caresses my cheek and smoothes out the loose strands of my hair.

“Mom, it’s okay. I’ll be fine today. It’s just like any other time before.”

“Honey, are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I know it’s your time, but I don’t mind keeping you company.”

I give her a kiss on the cheek, “Mom, trust me. I’ll be fine.”

I jump in the Mustang and drive the short distance to the flower shop. I pick out an assorted arrangement of salmon colored roses, purple irises, and yellow star flowers. The florist wraps the flowers and puts them in a glass vase, all nicely woven together. I cash out with the cashier and carefully place them on the passenger seat.

Fifteen minutes later, I enter Saint Raymond’s Cemetery and slowly drive to the assigned section. As I approach the lot, I find a parking spot by the curb and slide the Mustang in. Grabbing hold of the flowers, I take in a deep breath and walk toward the plot. As I pass other graves, I glance around at all of the tombstones and wonder how each and every one of them passed. Was it quick? Was it unexpected? Or was it the inevitable? Were they surrounded by family? Or all alone, slowly withering away in the dark?

A few minutes later, I arrive at the grave and place the fresh flowers on the tombstone. Bending down on one knee, I say a silent prayer before I kiss the tip of my fingers and touch the tombstone. I stand up and look up at the sky. The warm sun beams down on my face as the cool spring breeze blows.

I glance back down at the grave, “Beautiful day, isn’t it, Genna?”

I pause as if she’s going to respond, but all I hear is silence.

“Well, it’s a lovely day. Yesterday, it poured like crazy and I think it’s the perfect day for a visit, don’t you think?

I continue talking to Genna as if she can hear me, “I’m almost done with my junior year of college. The semester ends next week, and soon I’ll start my internship with a private investigator. He used to be a detective in the force and just went off on his own. I’m actually really excited to start working with him. I have a few ideas on how to find her.”

“The idea actually came to me while I was in class. We were discussing the motives for an act of crime and it came to me that Craig didn’t really have one. Well, I mean, he did in that he wanted to hurt you for letting Raya attend the prom. But there has to be something more, don’t you think?”

I chuckle to myself, “I must look like a complete lunatic talking to myself, but what can I say, it feels good to talk to you.”

I sigh and comb my fingers through my hair before continuing, “Genna…I still miss her. Every day she haunts me and I can’t focus sometimes. It’s been three years and I still love her the same as I did. At times, I hear her laughter echoing around me and imagine her singing to me. However, I can’t shake this feeling like she’s in trouble and I don’t know what to do. I’m still pissed at her for leaving me, but all I care about is her safety and happiness. I just hope I’m not too late.”

I continue to talk to Genna about my unforgettable thoughts of Raya and then divulge more news about the discovery of her poems and songs. I slip a piece of paper from my back pocket and read a song out loud. As I read the song, the soft wind blows, trees sway, and the flowers wave.

As I read the affectionate lyrics of Raya’s song, I hear someone call my name from behind me, “Duke?”

I stop reading, spin around, and see her standing a few feet away, “Melanie?”

Melanie nervously walks up to the grave and places a vase on the tombstone, next to my set of flowers. She walks to my side and smiles at me. I return the smile and continue reading the lyrics from Raya’s song. I finish reading, fold up the paper, and turn to walk away.

Melanie reaches to grab my arm, “Duke, please. Stay with me.”

I let out a deep breath and decide to stay with Melanie. She walks up closer to the tombstone and begins to speak out loud, telling Genna about her life in college—recently graduating from nursing school, finding an apartment in the city, and scoring a stellar interview for a registered nursing position at New York Presbyterian Hospital.

Listening to her stories, I smile and hope that these past few years have been easy on her. I shake my head and practically kick myself for being an asshole and shutting her out. Watching her discuss her stories with Genna, I realize that maybe Melanie and I would have been better these past few years if we still talked. Perhaps Raya’s disappearance would have been a little easier to handle.

About ten minutes later, Melanie finishes up and turns to look at me, “Would you like to say anything else?”

I walk up to the grave, “I’ll come visit again, Genna. I promise.”

I turn around and walk back to my car with Melanie following closely behind me. We walk in a comfortable silence and I glance at her. She wipes a tear from her face and I wrap my arm around her shoulder, offering a small amount of comfort.

As I see my Mustang, I glance around to find Melanie’s car, but don’t see it.