One More Thing

by Lilliana Anderson

  He used the forefinger of his free hand to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I think that you need to do whatever you feel is necessary in order to heal. No one, not even your mother-in-law, has the right to tell you what is right or wrong. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way to speed up the process for my benefit or to slow it down for hers.”

  I grinned. “That was the most politically correct response I’ve ever heard.”

  He laughed. “It was. But it was the truth. Everyone grieves in his or her own way and time. And if you feel the need to pack his things away then that’s what you need. The least I can do is give you space to do that. But can I ask something of you?”

  “Anything.”

  “Next time we have plans and you can’t keep them for whatever reason, just text me to let me know. I get all these crazy scenarios of what might have happened to you swirling in my head.”

  My heart swelled a little at his response. He had every right to be angry with me for ditching him last night, and he’d let his ire go to be supportive of my needs instead. How in the world did I get this lucky? He was a special kind of someone.

  “I promise. And I’m sorry for worrying you, it won’t happen again.”

  “Thank you.” He pressed a soft kiss to my lips then smiled. “So tell me what this spat face game is that Ty wants to play.”

  I laughed. “It’s Splat Face, and you’re going to be sorry you agreed to it. It involves whipped cream.”

  “I think one of my patients might have mentioned it during a session. It’s that one that slaps you in the face, isn’t it?”

  Covering my mouth to stifle my giggle, I nodded. “It is.”

  “Why on earth did you buy that for him?” Despite his words, he was amused.

  “I didn’t. Susan did. But it is fun.”

  His mouth pulled up a little on one corner and he pretended to push his sleeves up even though he was wearing a T-shirt. “OK. Let’s get this done.”

  So that’s how things went. We spent the afternoon playing board games with Ty, had dinner together, then curled up on the sofa and watched a movie. We made out a little as the night wore on and when it started to get late, he went home, leaving me with a grin plastered across my face. It was a direct contrast to how I’d felt a few weeks ago, when the quiet would press in, causing my loneliness to ache within my heart. Now I felt a sense of hope and a lightness in my heart that made me feel warm and look forward to feeling the multitude of emotions that falling for someone promised. The loneliness wasn’t there anymore, and I felt grateful to have Jude in my life.

  And like a very wise man once suggested, I would live each moment as it came and take one day at a time.

  14

  Monday, 12th December 2016

  WITH MY LEGS stretched out in front of me, I dug my toes into white sand, feeling the heat of the sun warming me. Humming to myself contentedly, I surveyed the pristine beach, thinking to myself that this was paradise.

  A spray of cool water splashed across my chest.

  “Tyler!” I squealed, laughing as he dropped on the sand beside me.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” He planted a noisy kiss in the curve of my neck, causing me to giggle.

  “What are you, fifteen?”

  “Something like that,” he said, laughter in his voice, a smile on his face. I reached out and touched my fingers to his jaw, feeling the stubble pressing into my skin. His ice-blue eyes stared into mine, but at the same time they seemed so far away. In fact, I couldn’t even touch him anymore. He moved out of my reach.

  “Where are you going?” I called out, reaching for him, unable to grab anything but air. “Tyler. Come back.”

  “Relax, sweetheart,” Tyler said. “I always come back. Promise.”

  “But you don’t come back. You died, Tyler. You died and you left me all alone. There’s no coming back from that.”

  “I know. If I’m hurting you, tell me to go. Tell me to go, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.” Even though he was giving me a choice, he was still fading. I couldn’t stop it.

  *

  That’s when I woke up. My chest tight and my heart racing. I got out of bed, pacing the floor, my palms pressing together as I tried to bring my mind back to from the panic of the dream. I’d dreamt of Tyler many times since his death. Sometimes they were memories, and sometimes he was just a character in whatever play my sleeping mind staged. But this was the first time we both knew he was dead. It was the first time he insisted on leaving.

  I stopped pacing and put my palms against my eyes, trying to push against them to stop the tears that were burning against the backs of my eyes. My mind was an arsehole. I’d gone to bed feeling on top of the world after saying goodnight to Jude. Perhaps it was my guilt over packing up Tyler’s things when Susan was set against it, or the fact I was entertaining the idea of a future with another man. But my mind had chosen to taunt me, to dangle something my heart desired in front of me then tear it away even though I was screaming for it to stop.

  “Fucking arse. Fucking nightmares,” I muttered to myself, my breathing stuttering, my palms growing damp. “Just stop,” I gasped, my hands shifting to the sides of my head as I dropped my weight onto the edge of the bed. I didn’t want to hurt like this. It was exactly what I’d been trying to overcome.

  Tears dripped from the end of my nose as I stared at my feet. I didn’t want Tyler to leave me. I didn’t want to feel like he wasn’t around anymore. I didn’t want him to be gone at all. The idea of it felt like tiny claws against the walls of my heart.

  I wiped my nose against the back of my hand, sitting up straighter, sliding my hands against my thighs, concentrating on breathing. In. Out. In…

  Out.

  I didn’t want him to be gone at all.

  But that’s exactly what he was—he was gone. Tyler was dead. There wasn’t a thing I could do to change that. I could mourn him fiercely every day for the rest of my life and it still wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’d still be gone and I’d still be here, only more miserable.

  I ran my fingers through my messy curls then wiped my hands over my face, sighing into the quiet. Perhaps that nightmare wasn’t a nightmare at all. Perhaps it was a just a dream and my subconscious was agreeing with what my heart already knew. It was time to let Tyler’s spirit rest. It was time to let him go. I was exhausted from grieving, and he was tired too. He needed peace.

  Standing, I wrapped myself in my silk dressing gown, collected Tyler’s journal then padded out to the kitchen, turning the kettle on. There was no point in trying to sleep after that. Instead, I spent the early hours of the morning, drinking sweet tea and reading familiar words, taking some time to say a private goodbye to my first love.

  I knew I would never fully let him go. But I knew I could stop holding on so tight.

  Feeling a little lighter as the day wore on, I begged off work early, needing to sit down and talk to Susan before it was time to take Ty home and get him fed and in bed. I had been a little worried that she wouldn’t want to help out by picking him up from preschool that afternoon because of our dispute over the weekend, but I needn’t have been concerned. She wasn’t going to give up her time with her grandson because she was annoyed with me.

  My heart felt jittery in my chest as I walked up the path that led to her front door. Susan lived the next suburb over, about a twenty-minute drive from our apartment. She had a quaint-looking federation-style home that had a veranda in the front and a small yard at the back that Ty loved to play in. She’d put a swing set and sand pit in, and it was there I could hear them talking about the construction of some great castle they were building.

  Entering via the side gate, I strolled past the manicured rose bushes and jasmine that grew on the fence, their sweet and musky scents mixing and entering my nose while the buzzing of bees filled my ears.

  “Hey you.” I held out my arms when Ty looked up and saw me. He grinned then ran to me, hugging me and covering me with sand al
l at the same time.

  “You’re early,” Susan commented.

  “I thought we could sit down and talk,” I suggested.

  Susan tilted her head toward the sliding door that lead inside. Ty went back to making his sand castle and I followed her into the house.

  “Drink?” she offered.

  “Tea, please.”

  I waited patiently, watching Ty playing from my vantage point at the circular dining table. Susan potted around the kitchen, looking as polished as she always did in a linen skirt and cotton blouse, a silk floral scarf tied neatly around her neck. She somehow managed flawless makeup and perfectly styled hair. Even in the weeks after Tyler passed, when the grief was all-encompassing, she’d still managed to keep herself looking put together. I never questioned it because I knew it was her way of coping. She’d grown used to hiding her pain over the years, always knowing that Tyler’s life was going to end when he decided it would. It was a tough burden for her to bear. I felt her loss as much as I felt mine. This conversation wasn’t going to be easy.

  She set the tea in front of me, along with a plate with six Iced VoVos on it, then took the seat to my right.

  “What is it you wanted to talk about?” she asked, her eyes on Ty. I could tell by the stiffness of her shoulders that she was still upset with me. I knew that the words I was about to say would make things worse between us.

  Squaring my shoulders, I bit the bullet. “I need to talk to you about Tyler’s things. I packed them away.”

  Her hands started shaking, the cup of tea held in them shifting from left to right. She gripped it tightly and set it on the table before the hot liquid could spill and pressed her palms against the wooden surface. “Why would you do that?”

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel so brave. I felt mean. Selfish. But I wasn’t going to back down this time. “Because I needed to. And before you say anything, I didn’t do it to hurt you. I wouldn’t dream of purposely hurting you.”

  “Then why are you? I thought I made my wishes clear.” Her eyes were glassy when they met mine, and my heart sunk a little. There was always a price to pay for what another viewed as selfishness. But sometimes, it had to be done for our own mental health.

  “Because my actions aren’t about you. They’re about me. I can’t keep living in a home with a crypt inside it. That’s what I really need you to understand, Susan. Tyler left his apartment to me. It’s my home and no matter how hard you’re hurting, you can’t tell me what to do in it. I have and still do appreciate every shred of support you give Ty and me, but that doesn’t give you the right to dictate what happens inside my home.”

  “I see,” she said curtly, staring directly into her tea. Susan had always been a pillar of strength, and I hated that my words were hurting her. I placed my hand over hers.

  “Please don’t be upset with me. I’ve done a lot of thinking lately, and I know in my heart that Tyler would have hated that we kept his room that way for so long. His last days were filled with him insisting we live on without him and there are mentions all through his journal. He didn’t want us to live this way; refusing to let him go. If anything, he wanted us to live for him. But instead, we stopped. I promised him I’d try, but I haven’t been trying at all. He was so full of life, Susan, and for us to sit back and refuse to experience all the joy that life has to bring is doing his memory a great disservice. It’s been five years. His ashes are coming back to us soon and it’s time we say goodbye and let him go. He deserves his memory to have that peace. We’ve been in mourning long enough.”

  As the words left my lips, I remembered our conversation from only a couple of months ago. I couldn’t even fathom a time when losing Tyler didn’t hurt like a thousand needles shot right through the heart, and I’d told her as much when she’d suggested that things would get better. But then my life changed. I found a reason to climb out of the abyss and back into the light and find my desire to experience true joy again.

  I wasn’t saying that Susan needed to find a good man to help her overcome her grief, but I did have hope that she’d find something to make her want to experience life again. I knew she just needed more time.

  “It does get better,” I assured her, giving her hand a light squeeze.

  Her lips quivered even though she was pressing them tightly in an attempt to keep them still. Slowly, she pulled her hand free, her eyes flashing when they met mine. “Don’t you tell me how long I should mourn my son. I carried that boy inside me. I fed him at my breast. I watched him grow and taught him to be the man you fell in love with. I have laughed and loved with him more than you could have ever hoped for. So don’t you dare. Don’t you dare.”

  I sat back. Shit, I’d made things a thousand times worse. “I…” I started, but I didn’t exactly know what else to say. What more could I say? “I should go.” I stood and called out for Ty to get his things.

  “What did you do with it all?” she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

  “It’s still in the apartment. I put the boxes by the door. I thought you might like them.”

  “Did you keep anything?”

  “Yes. I kept his journal. I kept some of his books and trinkets that he’d collected on his travels. Anything that had a story, I kept for Ty.”

  She nodded. “Bring the boxes tomorrow when you pick up Ty.”

  “All right,” I whispered, standing by while Ty gave her a hug goodbye. She told him that she’d see him after preschool the next day. “I really am sorry, Susan. I know you don’t like the decision I made, but I hoped you’d at least understand why I needed to do it.”

  “Oh, I understand just fine, Sarah. You’ve found someone else. Your world is changing and there’s no room in it for my son anymore.”

  My jaw tightened. “Like I said, I hoped you’d understand.”

  “Sarah,” she called out before we made it out the front door.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t think you can push me out of my grandson’s life. I won’t go quietly.” What kind of a person did she think I was?

  “It hurts my heart that you’d even think that I might do that.” Then I left, my head and my heart aching. Oh Tyler, your loss has broken us all.

  15

  Wednesday, 14th December 2016

  “THE SKY IS so clear tonight,” I whispered, nestling my head against the curve of Tyler’s shoulder. His arms were wrapped around me as we gazed at the midnight sky, the stars shining as a small fire crackled and spat not far from us. “I miss watching stars with you.”

  “Did you know that it takes so long for their light to reach Earth that most of the stars we’re seeing have already burned out?”

  “I did,” I said quietly, placing my hand against his chest, repeating words I know I said once in our past. “It’s kind of sad, and the brighter they burn the sooner they die.”

  “They’re beautiful while they last,” he whispered, before he wrapped his arm around me tighter, and I shifted to rest my head on his chest to listen to the beat of his heart and the echo of his voice when he spoke. “Just like we were beautiful, Sarah.”

  Then he pressed a kiss against the top of my head before running his fingers through my hair soothingly, making me sleepy with each gentle touch.

  “We were, weren’t we? Why does everything always have to end, Tyler?” I asked, my chest aching because I couldn’t hear any more sound coming from his.

  “Because forever is really only a short while,” he responded.

  Then he was gone and I opened my eyes. I didn’t wake up in a panic like I did the last time. Instead, I woke with a heavy heart and a melancholy sigh. Rolling over to my back, I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the man he was and everything we’d missed from then to now. So much time had passed. Our forever far too short. I missed him. More than words could ever express. He was such an incredible man and my life was better from knowing him. But I was also tired. So very, very tired.

  Rolling onto my side, I wrapped my arms around my pillow,
bunching it up beneath my head. As I relaxed into it, I thought about Tyler and all the wonderful things we did together. Then I smiled. Slowly, my mind cleared and I felt myself being pulled back into the land of slumber. It was getting easier.

  I was going to be OK.

  16

  Friday, 16th December 2016

  “I’M SORRY, SIR. I understand that you have a booking, but there’s nothing I can do. We’re booked to capacity and your table simply isn’t ready yet. It’s Christmas.” The maître d’ shrugged then ended the conversation by picking up the telephone that hadn’t stopped ringing since we’d arrived at the restaurant over an hour ago.

  “This is ridiculous,” Jude seethed.

  I took him by the hand. “Let’s just go. We can eat anywhere. It doesn’t have to be some fancy restaurant. I’m happy just to spend time with you.”

  “Yes but—” he paused, his fingers entwining with mine. “—you look so beautiful tonight.” His eyes travelled down my fifties-styled dress that had a fitted bodice and full skirt. I’d pinned my curls up in a stylised mess and applied a slash of bold red lipstick that the girl at the cosmetics counter had assured me wouldn’t kiss off. “I don’t want you to waste all this effort on some random café, or worse, a fast food joint. And this…” He pressed his lips together then sighed.

  “What?”

  “I wanted tonight to be special, because it’s our first official date.”

  My lips curved upward. “You’re adorable.”

  “I assure you, I’m not.” He dropped his head a little, blushing.

  “You are. You’re sentimental and it’s adorable. You can’t take it back now.”

  ‘You’re making me sound like a puppy.”