Here With Me

by Louise, Tia

Will she see me again?

  Six months is a long time, and I haven’t tried to contact her. When I left, I told her it was over. I felt like it would be unfair to maintain contact not knowing if I’d ever reach this point.

  Remembering the way I left her rips me up inside. I was so overwhelmed by my demons, I couldn’t even say I loved her when she told me she loved me with tears in her eyes. She wanted to help me, and I was a piece of shit.

  Resting my elbow on the steering wheel, I rub my hands down my face. Now that I’m stronger, I can see how vital she is to my existence. I’m healthy enough to say out loud how much I love her.

  Will she be willing to hear it?

  I won’t blame her if she tells me to go to hell.

  Still, I’ve got to try. I’ve got to fight for her. I’ve got to show her I’ve changed, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix our past, to get my little anchor back. I want to feel her hand holding mine so deep in my soul…

  Will she forgive me?

  I’ve been damn lucky so far on this journey. Is it possible to believe I could be that lucky again? Only one way to find out, and I’ve already packed my bags.

  This is my last job for Patton, checking the Office Revolution property located just outside of Nashville. His tenants from Madagascar just cleared out, and our job is to assess how soon we can get this place back on the market.

  I shove the keys in my pocket and head for the front door, reviewing his text. The usual drill. Check for damages, make sure nothing was left behind. Check the storage spaces for leftover boxes. If we need to bring in a cleaning service, we can.

  I’m distracted by thoughts of seeing Mindy again as I flip the light switches back and forth. Nothing happens. The power must have been switched off after the tenants left. No worries. I have a flashlight in my pocket, and it’s daylight outside.

  Twisting the wand on the blinds, I allow the sun to stream through the open floor plan. I take a few photos of spots on the carpet that might require professional cleaners. Otherwise, I don’t see anything notable.

  I’m about to head out and send the photos to Patton when I remember to check for boxes left behind in storage. Jogging to the back of the room, I head down a narrow hallway to a door beside a beige filing cabinet.

  The light from the windows doesn’t reach this far into the building, and I left my flashlight on the front desk with the keys. Hesitating, I look around. Enough light filters from the front to let me see if anything is here.

  I take another step closer to the narrow door, and my heart beats faster. My chest tightens, and the familiar nausea is in my stomach. No. I grind my jaw refusing to let this happen. I’ve worked so hard, dammit.

  Closing my eyes, I inhale slowly, focusing on the words. I think about the meditation I listened to on the drive over… Safety.

  Opening my eyes again, I see the door, and I’m slammed with a fresh jolt of adrenaline. I’m not alone… They’re in there, behind the door. She’s in there. Danger.

  I take another step, and the muscles in my abdomen pull together so hard, I have to take a knee.

  “No.” I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting. “Jesus…”

  It’s the opposite of what Dr. Curtis would say. I’m supposed to be calm, not fighting. Clutching my forehead, I force myself to stand. Through a gasping breath, I force my feet to move forward.

  My fingers tremble as I reach for the door, turning the handle, and letting it fall open. Anxiety like a freight train slams into my brain. Fog blinds my eyes, and I’m in that jungle again, looking through those doors.

  Only I’m not there. I’m here, in Nashville. Safety.

  Sweeping my eyes around the room, I see nothing but an empty space. A sound behind me sends me flying around with a shout, swinging my fist without even looking.

  Blank space. I’m alone. It’s all in my mind.

  With a cringe, I’m thankful I didn’t just punch an innocent person’s lights out.

  Again, using all my willpower, I force my feet to move. I force my body to walk out the door, down the steps, to my truck. I’m shaken and covered in sweat. Shame, defeat, despair sweep through me. I don’t text Patton. I go straight to Dr. Curtis’s office.

  “It was a setback, yes, but let’s reframe it.” Dr. Curtis sits across from me, her elbows on the desk and her fingers steepled. “You got yourself out of that storage closet on your own. You brought your mind back to the present. That’s huge, Sawyer.”

  The fountain trickles behind her, and the discouragement I feel eases a fraction. “I don’t know if I’d say huge.” My voice is still flat. I’m not ready to concede just yet.

  Still, I think to the previous times, at the nursing home, outside Noel’s store, at the lake…

  “You’re ready.” She takes out her pen and writes on a pad. “We’ll check in via Skype once a month, but I see no reason for you to stay in Nashville any longer. Look at me Mr. LaGrange.”

  Our eyes meet, and hers burn with conviction. “You saved yourself today. Own that victory and keep building. You’ve got this.”

  “Uncle Sawyer’s home!” Dove is at the back door bouncing on her toes and squealing at the top of her lungs. “Uncle Sawyer’s home!”

  A smile splits my cheeks, and I slam the door of the truck, grabbing my canvas deployment bag out of the bed. “I’m home, baby girl!”

  She bursts out of the screen door, letting it slam behind her, and running as hard as she can straight to my arms.

  “I think you outran Akela!” I laugh, swinging her up and hugging her tightly.

  Her little arms are so tight around my neck, and when she whispers I missed you, I swear, I get a little choked up. Funny kid.

  “You missed a lot of second grade.” She sits back on my arm. I let her slide down to her feet, and she pulls me by my hand to the house. “But that’s okay because I can tell you everything. My teacher is Miss Toranado, which I think sounds like tornado. But Mamma says I can’t say that because it’s disrespectful.”

  “Sawyer?” Noel appears at the door and immediately starts to cry. “Oh, my goodness! You’re home. We’ve missed you so much.”

  “I called you every week.” I step into the kitchen and give her a big hug. “Nashville’s not that far to drive.”

  “Are you kidding? Right after you left we had to start the pruning, then Leon and Taron were setting out the new trees, Mindy left for Dallas and Dove started second grade…”

  She continues talking, but a lead weight drops through my stomach.

  Mindy left for Dallas. She did what I told her to do.

  She’s gone.

  Dove dances around the kitchen, and Noel opens the stove to pull out a tin of peach muffins, but I’m lost in a cloud of regret… and wondering if my sister would be offended if I drove to Dallas tonight.

  “You look so good.” She walks back to where I’m standing by the bar. “I mean it. You’re different. It’s something about your eyes. A calm…”

  “What’s this about Mindy and Dallas?”

  “She left right after you, and I tell you, I’ve been absolutely lost! No best friend, no big brother… Not anymore.” She grins and kisses my cheek. “Now you’re both back.”

  Now I’m confused, and a little encouraged. “Wait… Mindy’s not in Dallas?”

  Noel waves her hand, turning on the coffee pot. “Deacon thought she should go to Dallas to meet clients and get her design business off the ground, which she apparently did in spades. But you know Mindy, she couldn’t leave her mom. She got her own apartment near the school and Jeff Priddy—you remember, Miss Jessica’s nephew?”

  “Of course.” I know everybody she knows.

  “Well, he got her an office space where that old Mexican cantina used to be. Remember that?”

  My sister’s talking so fast, I can tell she’s excited and happy. I’m impressed. An apartment and an office? “Sounds like she’s doing really well.”

  “She’s kicking butt from what I hear.” Noel hands me
a cup of coffee. “She’s been gradually moving back over the last month. I think she’ll be officially relocated this weekend.”

  “Hey, bro!” Leon stomps into the kitchen and holds out his hand for a shake. I catch it and pull him in for a firm hug.

  “Hey, man.” I let him go, scrubbing his shaggy dark head.

  He smacks my hand away. “Way to come back after all the hard work’s done.”

  “I was here for harvest.”

  “You weren’t here for pruning and planting.”

  “I have been, though. All by myself, too.” I give his shoulder a squeeze, and he shakes his head.

  “I’m just messing.”

  Looking around the kitchen, I lift my chin. “Where’s Taron?”

  “You didn’t see him in the shed?” Leon grabs a muffin and takes a bite. “He’s probably checking the new trees. We weren’t sure when you’d be getting in.”

  Nodding, I start for the door. “I’ll find him. It’s been a while since I’ve walked the rows.”

  Heading out the door, I charge up the hill away from the house, through the now-bare peach trees. In the winter, the bare branches fan out from the trunks like craggily fingers, hands spread palms up to the sky.

  When I was a boy, my daddy would walk with me through these trees and tell me this was our land. He’d squeeze my shoulder and say one day it would all be mine.

  I looked up to him so much when I was a boy.

  Dr. Curtis helped me talk through the anger and guilt I felt over his death. She helped me accept I couldn’t have stopped him, but here on this hill, in the spot where everything changed, I can’t help remembering those feelings.

  Closing my eyes, I remember the morning a small hand slipped into mine and never let go.

  “I thought we got rid of you.” Taron’s friendly voice breaks the spell, and he pulls me in for a bro-hug.

  “You can’t keep me out of this place.” Looking southeast, I see the small trees all in a line. “Leon said you two planted the last forty.”

  “Your little brother’s got some good ideas. He’s done a good job while you were gone.” He holds my hand in a shake, squinting one eye. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good…. No, make that better.”

  His eyebrows rise. “Better as in cured or better as in than when you left?”

  “Yes.” I chuckle, nodding. “Dr. Curtis thinks I can control my symptoms. I’m cautiously optimistic.”

  “At least your sense of humor’s back.”

  We slowly walk down the hill. Our hands are in our pockets against the chill in the air.

  “You could’ve waited for me back at the house.” Taron glances at me. “Is something on your mind?”

  Looking down, I press my lips into a grin. “You know me too well.”

  “What can I say?” He nudges my arm. “Spill it.”

  “When you came back, after all that had happened, did you have a plan?”

  “A plan?” For a moment, he seems confused. “You’re thinking of Mindy?”

  “Noel said she went to Dallas.”

  “She’s moving back, though.”

  Crossing my arms, I wish I’d worn a jacket. “I’m wondering if she’ll give me another chance. I didn’t know if you might have any advice.”

  “You really are different.” He grins, and I shrug.

  “Can’t keep that shit bottled up.”

  We pause halfway to the house, and he thinks a minute before answering. “I wish I had some great insight to give you. All I can say is do the work and give it time.”

  Time and hard work. The two constants in my life.

  “Thanks, man.” I brace his shoulder. “I’ll meet you back at the house.”

  The sun is closer to the horizon, and I know Noel is starting dinner. It’s comforting being home, knowing what to expect. When I get to the thicket, I follow a worn path in the grass to a small space under the trees where one fall, years ago, I installed a concrete bench.

  Directly across from it are two headstones. The biggest says Penelope Jean Harris LaGrange. The slightly smaller one is my daddy’s.

  Standing here now, I think of all the things I said in Dr. Curtis’s office. I think of her telling me I was doing good, the healing I was able to find. Still, looking at dates on his headstone, I feel like a lot still needs to be said.

  “I trusted you.” My voice is low. The trees take away any echo, as if they’re holding the words in their branches. “I thought you’d always be there for us. I’ll never understand why you did this. The older I get, I understand it even less. I looked up to you. Didn’t you know I needed you? I still need you. We all do.”

  A cold wind pushes through the pines, and I close my eyes, lifting my face to the sky. For so long I carried that burden, thinking I could have stopped him. It weighed on me so heavily, I wouldn’t even come here to this grave. Now that I’ve said the words aloud, I feel like I’ve closed a book.

  Maybe he heard me, but more importantly, I heard myself. It’s the start of a new chapter in my life. This weekend, I’ll say some more words out loud to someone who deserves to hear them. Time and hope are all I’ve got, but I hope in time she’ll forgive me.

  27

  Mindy

  “I can’t believe it’s my last night in town.” Sitting with my knee up at the kitchen table, I apply the last coat of polish to William’s right pinkie nail.

  “You’re tired of the London fashion scene. All those hats.” He waves his right hand in the air while placing his left hand in front of me.

  I shake the bottle of nail polish. I’ve got this movie reference. “Parker Posey, Party Girl…”

  He closes his eyes. “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

  He’s still quoting the movie, but I’m ready. “It’s bullshit. There’s no way a guy named Syphilis is happy.”

  “I think I’m an existentialist…”

  “You’re a drama queen.”

  We both snort a laugh, and I apply the final coat of hot pink glitter to his last nail.

  “Now I have to get ready to meet Link.”

  Hopping up, I dash to my bedroom to pull on my red flowered dress. All my feelings of abandonment are gone, replaced by an inner strength I didn’t even know I possessed. I feel confident and more optimistic than I have since I graduated college.

  “Your last night, and you finally agreed to have dinner with that man. You are evil, Little Italy. I can tell Deacon our bird has spread her wings.”

  “You are so freakin dramatic.” I run a brush through my hair as I reenter the room. “It’s only dinner, and it’s only to say thank you for all the referrals he’s given me.”

  “He’s only given you all those referrals to wear you down.”

  “He gave me referrals because I asked him to.” Stopping at the table I hug my bestie’s shoulder. “Besides, fierce single ladies cannot be worn down.”

  Slipping into my shoes, I think it doesn’t help that Sawyer apparently took my heart with him when he went to Nashville.

  I’ve exercised, taken yoga classes, made new friends, gone out with William… Most importantly, I’m heading back to Harristown as the proud owner of Mermaid Design Concepts, a full-fledged marketing firm with a healthy book of business and referrals coming in all the time.

  Still… at night, when I close my eyes, it’s Sawyer who invades my dreams. I feel his rough touch against my skin, the weight of his body pressing me down… His possessive kiss.

  As much as I hate to say it, sometimes I even have tears in my eyes when I open them.

  I think of the letter I wrote in the back of a notebook stuffed in a drawer in my childhood desk. I’ll always love you, Sawyer LaGrange… I think of the song we danced to at the ball… The Heart That You Own.

  He still owns my heart, but I’m making my way. I signed a lease on a one-bedroom apartment just off campus. It’s in a gorgeous old building with interior brick walls and warm wood floors. It’s near the farmer’s market and the nurs
ery and just around the corner from the new live theater company some enterprising college students decided to open.

  “You have to come stay with me and do a show as an alumnus.” I tap the Lyft app on my phone to order my ride. “They have casting posters all over town for The Little Mermaid.”

  “Don’t tell me. Sebastian.” William rolls his eyes.

  “You’d be great!”

  “Girl, please.”

  “And I could really use your help with the interior design for my new office.”

  Miss Jessica’s nephew Jeff Priddy helped me find a small space in one of the older buildings across town. It used to be a bar, and the city council was going to tear it down, but Ma talked to Jeff, and it’s been converted to an office complex. I think she was afraid I’d stay in Dallas.

  For the last two weeks, I’ve been going home to clean it out and paint, buy a desk and a chair, a printer and a desktop computer. With the money I’ve made from Rich’s campaign (and Link’s and Charlie’s), I’ve got a healthy nest egg for hanging out my shingle.

  “I will come back to be sure your office is a fierce as you are, but I will not sing ‘Under the Sea.’”

  “It’s a deal.” I laugh and kiss his cheek before heading down to my waiting car.

  Lincoln and I are meeting for dinner at The Mansion on Turtle Creek. It’s a gorgeous place with carved wood paneling and stone fireplaces. Tables are arranged to be cozy and romantic in many of the oversized dining rooms.

  He greets me at the door, and he really is too handsome to be stuck on me. “You look amazing.” He gives me a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek.

  “This old thing?” I tease, taking his arm and following the host to a small table for two near an enormous fireplace.

  The man holds our chairs as we sit and presents us with large menus. “I think I could fit in that thing,” I whisper, pointing towards the hearth.

  Lincoln smiles warmly. “No Hansel and Gretel tonight, thank you.”

  He orders us each vodka martinis, and we peruse the “New American” cuisine, which includes everything from black truffle and mushroom risotto to lobster to smoked pork chop. A candle in the center of the table casts a golden light over both of us.