Losing Leah

by Tiffany King

  I opened my mouth to argue. He was crazy. He’d done so much for me over the last week. Didn’t he see that?

  Before I could utter the words he continued speaking. “Mia, the truth is my head is playing host to a pesky tumor. I’ve been dealing with it for years, but it’s now decided to try to take over. I was so scared before. I put on an act, pretended to be brave. A cheerful front was easier than wearing my fear like a badge. I was terrified of an afterlife or a lack thereof. Whatever the case may be. But I’m not afraid of dying anymore. You gave me that.”

  His words were like a knife to the heart. I even looked down at my chest expecting to see crimson gushing like a fountain. My wound was buried deep inside, hidden from the naked eye. No one could tell that I was hemorrhaging pain. I’d obviously known that Gunner was sick. Why else would he be in a hospital. I guess I just hoped that like me, he was here to get better.

  My eyes welled up. I blinked furiously, willing the moisture to stay where it belonged. “I don’t want you to die.” My voice was a trembling mess. “Can’t they fix you?”

  Gunner reached for my hand again now that he knew I wasn’t going to bolt. “They’re going to try. It’s risky though. Tumors are tricky and they’re not sure they can get all the tentacles that are wrapped around my brain.” He was trying to make light of the situation for my benefit, but I could hear and feel his fear.

  I was stunned into silence. He was sick. Really sick. It wasn’t fair. We had just become friends. I didn’t want to lose him.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll still be able to beat you at checkers for a while.”

  I nodded even though I was well aware of the fact that he couldn’t see me.

  We were both somber as we headed inside when the nighttime chill bullied us from the roof. It took us twice as long to make it down the stairs. Gunner didn’t have the energy he had earlier in the day. I now saw what I’d been so unwilling to admit before. I insisted that he put his arm around me, so I could bear the brunt of his weight.

  When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I opened the door and grabbed a wheelchair that was parked in the hallway. Gunner didn’t even protest as I guided him to sit down. It was just another clear sign that something was wrong. He quietly reached for my hand as I pushed his wheelchair down the hallway.

  Gunner insisted that we go to my room first. “I want to say good-bye to you in private,” he said wryly, fiddling with the walking stick in his lap.

  “Okay,” I agreed. I could tell that my impending release was as hard on him as it was for me. I willed myself to hold it together. He deserved for me to be the strong one this time. It was the least I could do for him.

  I pulled up a chair and sat across from him so our knees touched. “This isn’t good-bye, Gunner. I’m going to visit you after my sessions with Dr. Marshall.”

  He shook his head. “Mia, I don’t want you to come see me until after my surgery. You’ll be busy starting your new life. I don’t want you chained to my bed.”

  His words were like a sharp jab to my gut. He had no idea what an accurate metaphor he had used.

  “I’m not going to abandon you. I know what it feels like to be alone and there’s no reason why you should have to experience that.”

  He leaned forward, resting his hand on my knees. “I’m not trying to be a martyr. I’ll have plenty of people with me. But you’ve had your share of loss. I’d rather we treat our time together like going to camp, you know? We can talk on the phone and text.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about but I couldn’t help smiling sadly. “I never went to camp.”

  “Picture lousy food, smelly cabins, and adults forcing you into sing-alongs. Actually, they’re cool,” he joked. “Anyway, the important part about camp is the week you invest in trying to get the girl you like to notice you. If you play your cards right, you get that girl to kiss you. That’s the goal.”

  A month ago I would have laughed at the thought that I would be sitting across from a guy who was making it pretty clear he wanted to kiss me. I thought life outside my prison was a dream that would never be fulfilled. That I would die without ever feeling someone else’s touch.

  “Mia, are you ready for another first?” Gunner whispered, moving his hand to my cheek. I leaned in, closing the distance between us without even thinking about it.

  I nodded my head. This time it didn’t matter that he couldn’t see me. He could feel the movement beneath his palm. Gunner removed his glasses, keeping his eyes closed as he erased the remaining distance between us. My stomach began fluttering, making my entire body quiver. I closed my own eyes as Gunner’s lips settled gently against mine. Goose bumps formed on my arms as he deepened the kiss. His lips were softer than they looked, forming perfectly with mine. He pulled away slowly, leaving me in a momentary trance. My lips tingled as I raised my fingertips to my mouth. My first kiss had lasted only moments, but it was something I would never forget.

  “Good-bye, Mia.” Before I could fully register his words, Gunner stood up with his walking stick to leave the room.

  My fingertips were still on my lips when he paused in the doorway. “Be brave, Mia. No matter what happens. Be brave.”

  24

  THE NEXT morning I zipped up my bag and looked around my room one last time. It looked barren without all the cards and flowers I had received over the past three weeks. The majority came from people I had never even met who had seen my story on the news. The cards were stored in the box that Jacob had already carried to the car. All the flowers were tossed or given away to other patients. The army of stuffed animals was crammed into a big trash bag so Jacob could carry them down on his next trip.

  Mom signed her name on the last of the forms she’d been given for my release. “You ready, sweetie?”

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  “Are you nervous?”

  I nodded again, which wasn’t a lie although the lump in my throat had nothing to do with my fear of leaving. Even though we’d said our good-byes the night before, I’d still expected Gunner to come by before I left. I debated taking matters into my own hands but I wanted to honor his wishes. Like our pact, I felt I had to keep my promise.

  Jacob arrived and shouldered my duffel bag and the large bag of stuffed animals. “Are we ready to get this party on the road?” he said, winking at me.

  “Mia?” Mom reached for my hand. I hesitated for a moment before meeting her halfway and grasping her hand firmly in mine.

  We left my room as a family—or part of a family since Dad didn’t show up. I felt he hadn’t adjusted to me being found. Maybe he was keeping his distance because he saw what Jacob and Mom were too stubborn to see. Maybe he saw what I saw. Did he see that I didn’t belong? Deep down did he realize that the daughter whom he lost so many years ago was forever gone? No matter how hard Mom wanted me to be her Mia there was always going to be a part of Leah inside of me. A big part.

  The hospital staff called out their good-byes as we made our way down the hall. I waved at all of them and accepted hugs from several people. I was getting good at the whole hugging thing.

  I couldn’t resist peeking in Gunner’s room as we passed, but it was empty and dark. I pivoted my eyes straight ahead and focused on the next step in my life like Dr. Marshall had instructed.

  Jacob waited with me in front of the hospital while Mom retrieved the car. I fidgeted in the wheelchair that the hospital insisted I use. It was a silly policy. I was quite capable of walking on my own. Wasn’t that the whole point? I was finally strong enough to leave.

  Jacob placed the bag of stuffed animals on the ground in front of my chair and plunked down on the bench next to me. “Mia, there’s something I think you should know before we get home,” he said, looking down at his hands. “Mom and Dad wanted to wait, but I feel you have the right to know. You’ve been kept in the dark enough to last a lifetime.” He paused, taking a deep breath. I didn’t know where he was going, but the look in his eyes gave me the i
mpression I wasn’t going to like it. “Mia, Dad doesn’t live at home with us anymore. He hasn’t lived there for a very long time.”

  His admission was like a quick punch in the gut. My stomach reacted by churning the eggs I’d eaten for breakfast uncomfortably in my belly. I cast my eyes down to my fingers, which were already looking for an outlet. They scratched at the cuticle at my thumb, trying to pull skin free. “How long?”

  Jacob watched my frantic digging but didn’t try to stop me. “He moved out exactly a year after you were taken. He said he couldn’t handle it anymore. Mom was still too torn up about your disappearance to fight him on it. I think he broke the last part of her heart that day. He’s a chump.”

  My fingers freed a small tag of skin and I pulled at it with my nails until a bead of blood rose to the surface. The pain was minuscule compared to the way my heart was pinching. My fault. Of course it was my fault. I felt I should apologize to Jacob, but the words were trapped in the void in my chest. It was a no-win situation. If I wouldn’t have been found my family would still be in shreds. Lost or found, all of this would always land on me.

  My family was broken.

  I broke it.

  Mom pulled up before we could say anything else, bouncing cheerfully out of the car. It was different from what I had been expecting. I’d vaguely remembered our car being blue or maybe black. This one was silver and smaller than the car I remembered. Jacob opened the trunk and stowed my bag and stuffed animals next to the box he’d carried down earlier.

  I opened one of the back doors and climbed in.

  “Fasten your seat belt,” Mom said, yanking on a strap near the back of my seat. She handed it to me and I buckled it into place. Memories flooded my mind. It had been ten years since I’d ridden in a vehicle like this, but I remembered Mom being adamant about seat belts. It was an insignificant memory, but felt like a big deal to me.

  Jacob climbed into the front passenger seat. He looked back at me as I tried to smile. The bombshell he dropped on me still had me reeling, but he’d been right, I needed to know.

  Mom slowly pulled away from the overhang covering the front entrance. I couldn’t resist twisting around in my seat to get one last look. The seat belt bit into my side, but I didn’t care. My eyes swept over the building that had become my haven. As our car rounded the driveway, a waving orderly off to the side of the building caught my attention just before Mom made a right turn out of the parking lot. My hand covered my mouth when I spotted Gunner holding up a massive sign with two words plainly printed on it.

  BE BRAVE.

  Nothing more, nothing less. It was his way of saying good-bye. I knew he couldn’t see me but I kissed my fingers and pressed them against the window.

  The drive home passed in a blur as I took in my surroundings. It was disorienting watching the different landscape. I didn’t remember there being so many buildings or cars before. My fingers were almost white from gripping the seat in a death grip anytime another car got too close to us. I could feel the first stirrings of a panic attack approaching and I patted my pocket. The bottle of pills rattled reassuringly. I didn’t pull them out yet; I would only take one when I absolutely needed it.

  I knew we were home the moment Mom pulled into our driveway. The familiarity of the house was etched deeply in my mind. Everything down to the white shutters and red door were the same. It was astonishing. I unlocked my seat belt and slowly climbed from the vehicle as memories assaulted me. I remembered this house. I dreamed about this house for ten years. This house had belonged to a person who didn’t exist. Now it belonged to a mountain of memories that were crushing me. Memories of me playing on this very lawn moments before Judy had snatched me from the life I had known.

  “Honey, I have something to tell you before we go in,” Mom called out to me.

  I tried to focus on her words but all I can see is me playing with my doll Daisy. Judy smiling down at me and taking my hand. Why did I go with her?

  “Mom, I already told her,” Jacob said, walking up the path with my bags in hand.

  I looked at them both, confused, trying to stop the flood of pictures from the past in my head.

  Mom looked strained. “Jake, I told you I would do it. She deserved to hear about your father from me.”

  My brain strained to keep up with the chaos. It felt like a million gallons of water being dumped on me at once. It was a building taller than the hospital landing on top of me, obliterating me once and for all. My surroundings began to spin. Darkness took over and the last thing I heard before hitting the ground was Mom calling out my name in panic.

  I woke to the low sound of Jacob’s and Mom’s voices. I opened my eyes, feeling disoriented. The blue sky had been replaced with a smooth white ceiling that slanted up into a tall peak. “They released her too early.” They were talking quietly, but I could still make out Mom’s words. “We should take her back to the hospital.”

  “I’m okay.” I sat up slowly and swung my legs around so I could sit up on the couch.

  Mom rushed to my side and knelt in front of me. Tears were streaming down her face. “Honey, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about your father sooner. It was unfair to keep it from you. I think we should go back to the hospital.”

  I flushed in embarrassment, wishing my father was the source of my problem. That would have been a more rational explanation for my behavior. I could have corrected Mom but I couldn’t take the chance of telling her the truth. What if they considered this a setback and decided a mental hospital was more fitting? I wasn’t sick enough to go back to the regular hospital. “I guess I was a little overwhelmed. Hearing about Dad and seeing the house again. I felt an attack coming on when I was in the car. I should have taken a pill like Dr. Marshall told me to. I’m sorry I worried you but I don’t want to go back to the hospital.” It was a bald-faced lie. I wanted to go back to the hospital with every fiber of my being. It would be so easy. I could see Gunner again and everything would be the same. Gunner’s sign flashed in my head. BE BRAVE. They were simple words but held so much meaning.

  Mom eyed me skeptically. “Are you sure, sweetie? I hate that you were that upset.”

  I pasted a smile on my face. It felt heavy, but it was all I could muster. “I’m fine. I promise.” I climbed to my feet to show her that I was at least capable of standing.

  Jacob threw his arm around my shoulder. “She looks fine to me,” he said, ruffling my hair. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.” He guided me to the familiar staircase. I could have told him he didn’t need to. I knew every inch of the house. Mia may not have existed, but she kept my memories alive for me. Jacob and I climbed the steps together with Mom trailing behind. I couldn’t resist running my hand along the banister as we climbed. I loved this banister. Its rich, smooth wood shined beneath my palm.

  Mine was the second room at the top of the stairs. Jacob stopped in front of the door, letting me push it open. Unlike the rest of the house, the room was not what I had pictured. It looked nothing like the teenage room I’d made up for Mia, nor was it the room I remembered from my childhood. One word described it. Bleak. It was empty of any kind of decoration or belongings. A bed almost twice the size of the one I had slept on for the past ten years sat nestled between two nightstand tables. A long dresser sat across from the bed with a matching desk under the window. It was all very plain.

  Mom walked into the room and stood beside me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “All of your childhood things are packed away. We can go through them whenever you’re ready, but I figured we would start from scratch if you’re still up for a massive shopping trip.”

  I pushed the feelings of bleakness from my mind. Rotating slowly in a circle, I examined each wall. It was a blank slate. For the first time in my life I saw real possibility, an opportunity to express my own tastes, whatever they were. “Yes, please.”

  Jacob coughed behind us. “Well, that’s my cue to hit the road. I love you, but there’s no way I want to get roped into on
e of Mom’s epic shopping trips. You’ve shirked the duty long enough. It’s time to pay your dues.”

  I could hear Mom’s sharp intake of breath behind me. “Jacob,” she chastised.

  A snort of laughter left me. Maybe it was a tasteless joke, but it felt so right in that moment. It felt normal.

  Jacob gasped, doing an almost dead-on impression of Mom. I reacted immediately. My body shook uncontrollably from laughter to the point where my side ached.

  “See, just lightening the mood, Ma. If this party became any more somber, I’d have to start whistling a funeral march,” Jacob said as Mom slapped his arm.

  Five hours later, I could see why he had ducked out. Shopping with Mom was not for the faint of heart. It was like running a marathon. That being said, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d had so much fun. It was surreal to think that everything we purchased was for me. I tried protesting at one point, feeling Mom was going overboard, but she wouldn’t have it. “I have ten birthdays and Christmases to make up for. Don’t burst my bubble,” she said, dipping a tortilla chip into our dish of salsa. We stopped to recharge and fuel up at a cute little Mexican restaurant Mom had suggested.

  Eating out at a restaurant was a new experience for me. The small establishment was buzzing with crowded lunchtime activity. I found myself too preoccupied with looking around at the sights and eavesdropping on conversations at other tables to eat much. It was another everyday ritual that most people took for granted that I had only read about in books. Now that I was experiencing it, the words and flowing paragraphs I had read could no longer give the experience full justification.

  I no sooner sucked down my first Coke when our waitress instinctively returned with a brand-new glass, filled to the brim. My old glass was swept away like it was no big deal. After using the same exact dishes, day after day for years, it felt a bit unsettling although I couldn’t show it.