Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  When it rains, think of me. I’ll be your umbrella, Kate. I’ll be your barrier from the storm, when life gets too heavy. Don’t let the storm wash you away. Allow it to nourish new life.

  You’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re everything. Never forget these things and don’t let anyone tell you differently.

  Love,

  The guy who’s still smiling because of you . . .

  Fresh tears stream down my face. How is it even possible to cry anymore? Everything he said hit me deep. I could never ever regret him. How can I regret someone who knew how to glue all of the pieces of me back together?

  And rain . . . the only thing I think about when it rains these days are his kisses. Anything that happened before has been washed away by new kinder storms.

  Next, I reach inside and pull out a small box that rattles when I shake it. My fingers tremble as I open the lid and what I see causes an excruciating tightness in my chest. Running my fingers along the silver chain, I can’t take my eyes off the tiny umbrella or the blue glass crystal raindrop that hangs under it. It’s gorgeous. I unclasp it and place it around my neck before returning my attention to the envelope.

  I pull Asher’s iPod off my dresser and place the small buds in my ears. As soon as I settle into my bed, I hit play. Asher’s voice begins to sing Everything by Lifehouse, and when I close my eyes, I can see him on the couch playing for me. Pressing the charm of my new necklace between my fingers, I slowly drift to sleep with the beautiful words filling my ears.

  Chapter 27

  It has been fifteen days of emptiness.

  It has been 360 hours of loneliness.

  It has been 21,600 minutes of missing him, but I’m still ten times more alive than I was in the days before I met him.

  Today is the first time I’ve gone to work in two months. I never left Asher’s side in his last few weeks, and I’ve spent the last two trying to figure out what to do without him. This feels like a turning point for me . . . I can either choose to move forward, or fall back into the place I was in after Drew raped me.

  As I step into the diner, the smell of fried food instantly hits me and I’m immediately reminded of memories with Asher. I miss the days of watching the door, waiting for him to come in.

  They always say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, but I figured out a long time ago that Asher was special. Now I have an angel watching over me.

  My mom walks into the kitchen where I’m standing, staring into space. If she was in a hurry before, she doesn’t show it now. Her green eyes are warm as a sympathetic smile touches her lips.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asks, wiping her hands on her apron. Having her here with me makes this so much easier. She hasn’t been my rock . . . she’s been my whole world.

  I take a deep breath. I’m ready.

  “Yes,” I reply, returning her smile. “It’s nice to get out of the house for once. I’m actually starting to resent the paint color on my walls.”

  “You can paint them, you know.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Well, I need to get back up front, but let me know if you need a break today,” she says, wrapping her thin arms around me. Over and over the last few months, I’ve realized that she’s my home. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we have as long as we have each other. We’re where we need to be.

  “I’ll be okay,” I whisper, pulling her closer to me.

  “Okay, I know the others are excited to see you too.” She lets go of me and walks out, looking back one more time before closing the door. I take one more deep breath and clock in. It’s one foot in front of the other from here on out. It’s the only way I’m going to get through this.

  The first thing I see when I walk in the dining room is my regular group of farmers. I never thought that I’d miss them, but I did. It’s interesting how people can become such a big part of your life before you even start to realize it.

  And the best part . . . they smile as soon as they see me walking toward them. This is just going to be another day as long as I let it be.

  “Hey, Kate, we haven’t seen you around here in forever. What have you been up to?” one of them asks as they all eye me intently.

  “I’ve been . . . helping a friend,” I admit lightly, biting my lip to hold back any emotions that threaten when I think of Asher. Even though I’m learning to deal with it a little more each day, it’s hard to verbalize. For some reason, it makes it more real.

  “Well, we’re glad you’re back. I like your mom and all, but you’re my favorite waitress.”

  A smile spreads across my face.

  This is my home too.

  After the early morning rush ends, Ms. Carter comes in and takes her normal seat. When I bring out her cinnamon roll and cup of decaf, she smiles.

  “Hey, Ms. Carter, I’ve missed you. How’s bridge club?” I ask, trying to continue with my normal routine.

  She reaches for my hand and pulls me closer to the table. “You don’t have to pretend for me,” she says quietly.

  I glance around the restaurant making sure that no one else heard her. “I’m not.” I don’t think I’m pretending; I’m just holding stuff in. To me, there is a difference.

  “Have you even let yourself cry?”

  “Every day,” I reply honestly. I’ve tried not to close myself off this time. I know better than that.

  “Sit down,” she says, pointing to the seat across from her.

  I shake my head, glancing around nervously. “I can’t. I’m working.”

  I stand motionless as she waves my mom over. What is she up to?

  “Can Kate take a break for a few minutes? I have something I need to talk to her about,” Ms. Carter says, not looking in my direction even once.

  My mom eyes me curiously before turning her attention back to Ms. Carter. “I suppose I can handle things for a few minutes.” She pats me on the shoulder before walking away. “I’ll yell if I need you.”

  I nod, sliding into the empty seat. The booths are normally comfortable, but right now I feel like I’m sitting on a wooden board. I’ve known this woman for years, but up until a few minutes ago I thought she was just a nice woman who didn’t notice much.

  I think all my thoughts and conceptions are about to be proven wrong.

  “Don’t worry, Kate, I’m not going to ask you to go to bridge with me again.” She pauses, taking a sip from her coffee cup. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  I sigh, resting my crossed arms on the table. “I’m going to be fine. I just need some time to find my new normal.”

  “Who’s helping you with that?” she asks, taking another sip from her coffee cup.

  “My mom is when I let her. Other than that it’s just me,” I admit sadly, stealing a quick glance out the window. It’s so hard to talk about my feelings.

  She reaches into her purse and pulls out a plastic bag filled with what looks like napkins from the diner.

  She pulls out the top one and places it front on me. At first I don’t believe what my eyes are seeing. It’s Asher’s handwriting on a napkin like I’ve seen many times before.

  My eyes gloss over, making the print impossible to read. “Where did you get this?” I ask, feeling the first tear roll down my cheek.

  Her hand covers mine, and I look up to see her eyes are glossed over too. “There was this young man who gave them to me one day when I came in for my coffee. I didn’t know who he was at the time, but after spending a few minutes with him, I knew one thing.” She stops, smiling sadly. “He loved the beautiful girl who I come to this diner to see every morning.”

  Rolling the tiny raindrop that hangs from my neck between my fingers, I wait for her to continue.

  “You didn’t think I came in here every day for this crap they call coffee, did you? Seriously, they need to put some more grounds in before they brew it.” She tilts her head to the side, regaining her
serious expression. “I’d noticed how much you’d changed the last few months. One day as I was leaving the diner, he was walking in, so I stopped to thank him. I’d seen you with him a few times and put two and two together.”

  I shake my head, feeling my lips tremble. “But why the napkins? I don’t get it.”

  She nods, squeezing my hand tighter. “A couple months ago he stopped by the diner, but you weren’t working. The boy was a mess, so I asked him if he’d like to sit and have coffee with me, and he surprisingly agreed. It took a very long time for him to gain any composure when I asked him what was wrong. Anyway, we talked for almost an hour about Carrington, and when I mentioned that I came here every day just to see you, he looked so broken up. He asked if I could keep a secret, and reached into his coat pocket and handed me this bag. He said there would come a day when you would need these, and he wouldn’t be here to give them to you.”

  She laughs sadly, glancing at the full dining room. “I scolded him. I told him if he even thought about leaving you, I’d come find him. He got really quiet and told me he didn’t have a choice. He said he’d never leave you if he had a choice.” A tear rolls out of the corner of her eye.

  “Wait, when was this?” I ask, leaning as far over the table as my body will let me.

  “It was the day before he was admitted to the hospital.”

  Out of habit, my eyes focus up to the ceiling. He knew he was getting sicker. He knew his days were growing fewer and fewer, but he was still thinking about me.

  “I figured now that you’re back at work, you might be ready for these,” she cries, handing me the bag. “You’re supposed to read the one I took out first.”

  My attention goes back to the paper napkin that sits right in front of me on the table. I carefully pick it up, running it between my fingers.

  There’s a napkin in here for each day I knew you. When you need me, take one out, and I’ll be right there talking to you.

  Missing you, each and every day.

  Love, Asher

  I wipe the rapid flowing tears from my eyes and look across the table to see Ms. Carter doing the same thing. “Thank you,” I mouth.

  “Oh, Katie girl, I’m here if you need me. You know, I lost my husband to cancer, too.”

  “It doesn’t feel quite fair,” I say, wiping my eyes.

  “I know, but I bet you don’t regret one minute you spent with him.”

  I never will. When I think of him and the memories we created together, it washes the paralyzing sadness that coats my heart away. “Never,” I whisper.

  “Well, I should probably get going. I have to go play bridge, but I’m thinking about making a change to bingo. I’m getting tired of all the politics that go on in my bridge club,” she says, standing next to the table.

  She reaches into her purse, but I stop her by placing my hand in the air. “I got this one. Besides, you didn’t even touch your cinnamon roll.”

  “Yeah, those aren’t that good either,” she replies, scrunching her nose up as she looks at the untouched roll.

  “You don’t have to keep coming in here if you don’t like the food.”

  “As long as I get to see you, I’ll keep coming in,” she says, running her thumb across my cheek. “Take care, sweet girl.”

  For several minutes after she leaves, I stare at Asher’s handwriting. Even though he’s not here, he’s still the most amazing person I’ve ever known. He always seems to know what I need, even when he isn’t here.

  As I stand up, I notice my mom standing in the corner with her hand over her chest. Her forehead wrinkles as she watches me and as soon as she sees me moving, she motions to the kitchen before disappearing behind the door.

  My knees feel so weak from everything that I have a hard time just putting one foot in front of the other. The diner is still pretty empty, but any minute now it will start filling up with the lunch crowd, and I don’t want to have any part in that.

  I thought I was ready, but I’ve been knocked on my ass again.

  My mom pulls me into her arms as soon as I walk into the kitchen. “Are you okay? What did Ms. Carter say?”

  I press my cheek to her shoulder, breathing in her familiar perfume. “Asher left her these to give me,” I reply, holding up the baggie.

  “Oh my god,” she whispers, resting her head on top of mine.

  I stand blanketed in the warmth her body provides. This doesn’t feel like it should be my life.

  Pulling back, I force her to loosen her grip. “Will you guys be okay if I go home? I need to be alone.”

  She lovingly brushes the hair away from my eyes with her fingers, “Are you sure you should be alone right now?”

  “Please,” I plead, anxious to get home and read through more of Asher’s notes.

  Her thumbs run along my cheekbones before I’m pulled into her arms again. “Go home, but I want you to call me if you need anything. Do you hear me?”

  “I’ll be okay,” I whisper.

  She lets go of me, rubbing her hand along the back of her neck. “I worry about you.”

  I take a few steps toward her and kiss her cheek. “That’s what moms are supposed to do.”

  As I take my apron off and walk out of the diner, I can feel her eyes on my back. I hated all those times she was hovering over me when I was younger, but now it means something totally different.

  At every stop sign on the way home, I glance down at the bag of notes that sit on the passenger seat. It’s almost like I’m driving somewhere to meet him after not seeing him for a long time. If only I could make all of my perceptions a reality.

  When I’m safely in the privacy of my room, I quickly change and crawl under my comforter with the little pieces of Asher I hold in my hand.

  I tell myself before reading the first one that I’m only going to read five each day and then when I’ve read them all, I’ll just start again.

  My whole body shakes as I pull out the first one, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before reading.

  Your strength is inspiring.

  This one makes a small smile spread across my face. I’ve never considered myself a strong person. In fact, I’ve always seen myself as weak, especially the last couple years. But now, looking at myself through Asher’s eyes, I understand what he sees. It took strength just to remain here.

  I pull out the next one, feeling a little more relaxed than I was with the first.

  My lasagna recipe . . .

  Stouffers from the freezer aisle.

  For the first time in weeks, I really, truly laugh. He always had a way of bringing that side out of me.

  I miss those green eyes. I hope they’re still as bright and vibrant as they were the last time I saw them.

  Any remaining hint of the smile I just had is gone. I have a hard time picturing my own eyes in that way, but he always mentioned when they were shining.

  If you go fishing, make sure to take my pole.

  That’s one thing that I don’t know if I’m ready to do without him. One of the memories that will live in the forefront of my mind is when he kissed me in the rain.

  I love you. I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you. Don’t forget that there are other people around you who love you too. Don’t shut them out.

  Time passes as I lay there letting my emotions pour out of me. It’s tempting to read another note, but I’m not done processing the ones I’ve just read. Asher always knew how to mix some humor into life, and he achieved a perfect balance today.

  “Kate,” my mom says, startling me.

  Turning my head, I see her standing in my doorway. She came home for me. She walks slowly in my direction, almost like she’s afraid of how I’m going to react, then surprises me by lying down behind me and cradling me next to her body. I’ve messed up so many times. There’s so much heartache that I could have saved myself if I had just opened up to her. It’s always easier to see things more clearly when you’re looking back.

  “What’s bothering you? Please t
alk to me,” she says, running her fingers through my hair.

  I remember how much weight was lifted when I told Asher about the one thing that haunts me . . . the one thing that holds me back. I turn around to face her and say the one thing I’ve been scared to say for years.

  “I was raped,” I cry.

  She stops, and I feel her fingers tremble against my scalp. “What did you just say?”

  “A couple years ago, someone raped me. He held me down and raped me.” Sickness coursed through my veins as I relive the whole thing for her. I leave out a few of the details, but in the end when the big secret is washed away, I feel better. One more brick has been lifted from my chest.

  And when I’m done, when the cloud has been lifted, she grips me tight against her chest and cries with me. I’ve thought about this day over and over again, and now that it’s done, I regret not doing it sooner.

  She’s showing me love. Sweet, selfless, undying love.

  I love her fifty million times to the moon and back.

  “It’s not your fault,” she murmurs.

  “I know that now.”

  Chapter 28

  Three Months Later—May 2013

  I’ve never been more excited to see winter melt away than I was this particular spring. I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ve learned that I can’t bury the past away; it just makes it worse.

  The day I lost Asher is still hard to think about, but I do allow myself to go there from time to time. That’s another reason I welcome spring . . . I can lie outside and look at the stars. Every time I do, it feels like he’s lying right beside me. If I let my mind go, I can feel him holding my hand, and sometimes I think I feel his fingers brushing through my hair.

  I miss him.

  The last one hundred and six days I’ve thought about him one hundred and six times. I’ve read all his notes at least ten times over, re-reading some of my favorites every day. I don’t know if that’ll ever get old.

  I crawl onto the middle of Beau’s old trampoline, stopping in the center to glance up at the clear night sky. It’s so much better than the turtle I’ve been lighting in my room night after night. It reminds me of the campfire Asher and I had last fall. I can almost taste the chocolate and marshmallow stuck on his lips. If I close my eyes, the whole night replays like a film, taking me back to a happier time.