Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

She nods slowly in understanding, pushing up off the bench and going on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around my neck. She doesn’t say another word as she lets go and walks away into the living room.

Grabbing my keys off the table, I pull open the door and walk out into the brisk night air. My body works on autopilot: getting into my car, turning the engine on and driving down the gravel driveway.

The car is silent, save for the engine as it gently purrs and the rain that beats down on the windshield. It’s almost as if the weather changed to suit my mood. The sky is pitch black, not a star to be seen, much like it was that day six years ago.

It takes me twenty minutes to get to the cemetery, but it feels more like two. Once I’ve parked in front of the gates, I turn the engine off and grab my flashlight from the glove compartment.

No time like the present.

Pushing my door open, I slide out and shiver as the cold rain hits my face, pulling the collar on my leather jacket up and walking ahead.

The large black gates are partially open, and I slip through the small space, walking along the tree lined path that flows down the middle of the grounds. The path spouts off left and right, taking you further into the grounds, but I don’t take any of those paths. I stay on the main one, bearing left when I come to the end and walking over to the blossom tree that hangs gently over her headstone.

I stop four feet in front of it, staring at the words engraved in the marble stone.

Natalia Carter

Loving mother, wife and daughter.

Gone but never forgotten.

A painful lump forms in my throat and I swallow, trying to relieve the tension.

“Hey, Nat.” It’s stupid to talk to a stone, I know that, but I feel like I’m filling her in on everything that has happened when I do.

“Izzie turned six today.” I sit down, not caring that the ground is soaking wet; not giving a damn that the rain still beats down on me in torrents. “She’s such a little monkey now.” I shake my head and look down at the grass, sinking my fingers into the dirt underneath it. “She had us all dressing up as princes and princesses for her party. Nate dropped his crown and she told him off.” I chuckle. “She’s so much like you, it’s scary.”

I swallow again, closing my eyes. “Clay’s getting better, I think. I took him to see someone.” I wince at the rawness of my voice. “A professional... I didn’t know what else to do, Nat. All I knew is that things couldn’t continue the way that they were.” I nod, more to assure myself that I did the right thing than anything else. “It’s working though, he’s sleeping better. Still with the nightlights, but he hasn’t been having the nightmares as often as before.”

I stop talking, almost as if I’m waiting for her to reply, which is obviously something that will never happen.

I clutch my hands together tightly. “Harmony is back,” I whisper. “But then you already know that, don’t you?” I laugh sadly. “I never thought that she’d come back, but here she is. We…” I trail off as I stare at her headstone, willing myself to get everything I want to say off my chest. “We’re seeing where things go. I didn’t think she’d even give me the time of day, but she has.” I shrug. “I don’t know why after what I did to her. After everything... but she sees something in me. Maybe she thinks that I’m the same person I was back in college? I dunno.”

I lift my head up and look out into the distance, watching as the wind catches the branches of the trees, making them sway as if they’re dancing before I turn back to look at her headstone, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I want to hope that you’d approve, that you’d give me your blessing. But I guess none of that matters now.”

I push my hands through my hair, preparing to tell her about what happened today. “You know how she always loved art? She painted Izzie a picture for her birthday.” My breath catches in my throat as I see the painting in my head clearly. “It’s of you and Izzie as she is now. The look in both of your eyes is… everything.”

I let my head drop as I stare at the darkened grass, pulling up a few blades and throwing them back down. “To say I didn’t react well is an understatement. You’d kick my ass at how I treated her.”

I smile as I think about how Natalia would have reacted had she been there; it wouldn’t have been pretty, that’s for sure.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that, but she caught me off guard.” I shrug to myself. “I feel like I don’t know anything anymore, it’s like I’m being pulled in two different directions. One day I’m fine and everything's going good, then the next it’s all I can do to try and not break down as I remember everything. It all gets to be too much.” I take a deep breath. “I see Harmony’s face the day that I left her; but the worst is when I see your face. All of those people rushing around as they wheeled you out of the room on that bed… the look in your eyes.” I choke on a sob, clenching my fists on my thighs and squeezing my eyes shut. If I go there right now, I’m not sure that I’ll make it back home tonight at all. “I…” I swallow against the lump in my throat again.

A tear slips free, tracking down my cheek and mixing in with the rain. Today has been too much: too many memories, too many emotions.

“I’m not good enough for them, Nat. It should have been me that left you all behind. You would have been able to cope without me; the kids would have been okay without me. It never should have been you.”

I hear footsteps behind me, the leaves crunching under someone’s feet and I stand quickly, turning my flashlight and illuminating the figure that is walking toward me.

“I’m closing up,” a gruff voice says as he comes into the light. I can’t make out much but I know that it’s the same person that does this every year.

I turn my wrist, looking at the time on my watch, not quite believing that I’ve been here for an hour already.

“Okay,” I answer him, watching as he turns around and walks off without saying another word.

I slowly turn back toward the headstone, stepping forward and placing my hand on the top. My eyes move down to the fresh flowers that sit in front of it, knowing that Mom comes here once a week to talk to her and place fresh ones down.

Mom and Natalia were close; especially after Natalia’s parents stopped talking to mine and told her to divorce me. She didn’t listen to them, and for that, they cut her off. That’s when my mom took Natalia under her wing, and I think in a way it made her stronger and gave her the encouragement to do what she loves and to eventually leave my father.