Dear Everly,

by London Casey

  Was that Jake’s room? Was that where Jake and… whoever… slept? Was that Sadie’s room? Was it some private room for Jake?

  I chased the thoughts away and drove.

  I treated myself to a morning breakfast sandwich and got to my job nice and early. I was told to be there early for my first few days just to get a feel for the place. To go through paperwork. Training. All the stuff that most people probably found boring but I was excited about it because I was getting out of the house. I had something to do. For me.

  “Emily!” a woman cried out as she opened the door for me.

  Way too excited for the morning, even for me.

  No handshake here. It was a hug.

  “I’m Julie,” she said.

  “Miss Anderson,” I said with a smile.

  “I keep wanting to get the kids to stop calling me that, since everyone else is called by their first name, but it’s too confusing now. So consider yourself lucky. You get to be Miss Emily.”

  “You don’t want them calling me Miss Werzniak?”

  “Miss Emily sounds better,” Julie said with a wink. “Come on, let’s get your day going. Are you excited?”

  “Very. It’s been a long time for me. I’m sure you remember…”

  “Of course. I’m terribly sorry about your grandmother. It’s hard when you lose a family member. No matter what.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m looking forward to this. The innocence.”

  “You’d be surprised how quickly that innocence goes away though,” Julie said. “Just a warning. Not everything is a TV show. But this year I’ve got a great group of kids. They’re eager to learn. They’re really well behaved. So I’m thrilled that you’re here. I’d like to split the kids up and just keep going with things.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Whatever you need from me.”

  “Coffee?” Julie offered.

  I showed her my mug. “I’m good for now.”

  “Well, let me show you the break room. Then we’ll tour the rest of the building, just so you’re semi familiar. Then we’ll get into the classroom and figure out the curriculum for the day. Sound good?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” I said.

  “Miss Emily,” she said.

  “Miss Anderson,” I replied.

  We both laughed at the same time.

  We walked the hallways and my eyes darted all around, admiring the artwork. Seeing the changes in the artwork from the older kids to the younger kids. Those who were naturally talented when it came to drawing and painting and those who weren’t. Not that I would ever judge a person. I couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler. And painting? I was lucky I made it through painting my house. So to me, all the artwork was amazing.

  “Oh, here’s something fun,” Miss Anderson said, stopping at a wall that had a giant paper pizza on it. “When we do math with the kids, we try to make it fun. So this was our giant pizza… and we ended the week with a giant pizza party.”

  “I missed the best week, huh?”

  “Not quite. We have a candy week coming up soon.”

  For the next two hours we made small talk as I absorbed all I could without getting too overwhelmed. I met more of the staff. I got to see the classroom. This large, beautiful room filled with so many colors, shapes, toys, books… artwork on the walls, the ceiling, like stepping into the mind of a child.

  It was all so amazing. It left me smiling ear to ear.

  But then came the surprise of a lifetime…

  And it all started with a container of blue paint.

  The first kids arrived and I stood next to Miss Anderson to greet them. Thus began the fun game of memorizing all the names. Tommy, Nicholas, Brett. Angie, Nora, Sophia.

  I shook their little hands, walked them to their tables, and even purposely went to the wrong chairs a few times just to get a smile from them. They unpacked their bags, got their snacks on the table, and were very well mannered.

  “I think almost everyone is here,” Miss Anderson whispered to me. “I’ll leave the door open in case a few stroll in late. Happens all the time. I don’t want to keep the kids waiting. I usually start with a good morning yell and then get right to it. We’re going to work on the ocean today since we talked about the jungle the last two weeks. Can you do me a favor and go into the storage closet and get me another container of the blue paint?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  I darted out of the classroom and into the storage room. Everything was thankfully organized. I grabbed a container of the blue and the lid popped off. I spun and caught the lid and managed not to spill the paint.

  That was close.

  I put the lid back on but could tell it was the wrong lid and was loose.

  I turned and walked out of the storage closet, more worried about the lid than I was about where I was walking.

  I turned to my left as I heard Miss Anderson say, “Good morning, Sadie!”

  I looked to my right and swore I saw Sadie. Sadie from next door. Jake’s Sadie.

  A second later, I felt myself bump into something.

  Someone.

  “Damn,” a voice said.

  I looked, but not before the blue paint slammed into someone, splashing everywhere.

  I gasped.

  And I realized right then I had just coated my sexy neighbor with blue paint.

  I stood there in shock.

  Jake stood there with blue paint from just under his neck all the way down his shirt.

  The chemical smell of the paint shot up my nose.

  “Good morning to me,” he whispered.

  A second later I heard someone yell, “Jake! Oh no!”

  I looked back and Miss Anderson was there. She disappeared into the classroom.

  Jake just stood with his arms at his sides. In his left hand was a small, brown paper bag with pink flowers on it.

  “I, uh, I’m really sorry… I was… here…”

  I reached forward and jammed the paint container against his shirt. Next thing I knew I was scraping the container against his shirt. Not paying any attention to the hard muscle under his shirt, or that his shirt lifted up enough to show the top of his jeans and skin.

  Jake put one of his large hands - tattoos on his hand - to the paint container and pushed me away.

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry, Jake. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here.”

  “You work here? This classroom?”

  “Yes. It’s my first day.”

  “You’re the new hire…”

  “And Sadie goes here,” I said.

  I saw the way his lip curled. Like he was mad at me for working there.

  “Jake…”

  “Here, get cleaned up,” Miss Anderson said.

  She stormed from the classroom with large, wet wipes. She started to wipe Jake, her face slightly blushing. Jake grabbed for the wipes and stepped back.

  “I’m fine,” he said. He pointed to the carpet. “You might want to worry about the carpet. I’m on my way to work anyway.”

  “Still,” Miss Anderson said. “You should clean your shirt.”

  “It’s going to get covered in grease,” Jake said. He glanced at me. He lifted his left hand up, showing off the girlie paper bag. “I was running late this morning. My fault. I left Sadie’s lunch in the truck. I wanted to bring it to her.”

  I took the paper bag. “I’ll make sure she gets this, Jake. I’m so sorry about that. Totally my fault.”

  “I know it was,” Jake said.

  He turned and walked away.

  Myself and Miss Anderson just stood there until he turned the corner.

  I sighed. “I’m an idiot. I wasn’t even looking where I was walking. I saw Sadie…”

  “You know them?” Miss Anderson asked me.

  “I moved in next door,” I said. “Jake and Sadie are my neighbors.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Do you kno
w the story…?”

  I shook my head. “Only what I can assume.”

  Now Miss Anderson sighed. “Let’s just hit the reset button here. If you don’t mind, get the floor cleaned up. Then we’ll just move forward.”

  “I’m sorry, Julie.”

  “No use in crying over spilled paint,” she said with a smile. “My first day I turned my back on an open container of glue and one of the kids took a popsicle stick, lathered it up, and licked it.”

  Miss Anderson went into the classroom and I went to work cleaning the carpet. I was very thankful for kids paint because it was meant to be washable. Not to mention the carpets themselves in the hallway were a shade of blue.

  When I finished cleaning my mess, I went into the classroom.

  Miss Anderson announced my arrival and made the class cheer for me.

  Then we got right to work.

  I went to Sadie’s table and crouched down to see her.

  “Hey, Sadie,” I whispered.

  She smiled big when she saw me. She was so beautiful.

  “Emily,” she said. “Miss Emily.” She covered her mouth as she giggled.

  “What are we painting right now?”

  “Some water,” she said. “Then I want to paint a mermaid.”

  “I like that. I like mermaids.”

  “Me too. They’re real, you know.”

  “Of course they are.”

  “My mommy said so. That’s what Daddy says.”

  “Oh?”

  Sadie moved the paintbrush, turning the white paper blue.

  “I’m going to paint the mermaid to look like Mommy. When she gets back, she’ll be happy that I didn’t forget how she looks.”

  I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

  “She comes back…?” I caught myself asking.

  Sadie looked at me. She nodded. “When the angels bring her back.”

  I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

  “Miss Emily?” another girl - Angie - at the table asked. “I need to use the potty.”

  I looked at Angie. I smiled. “Okay.”

  For the rest of my first day, my heart was in my throat every time I looked at Sadie.

  And it wasn’t going to stop when the day ended.

  Whatever happened to Sadie and Jake was still lingering in their house and their lives.

  And I knew my little white fence wouldn’t forever keep it away from my house… or my heart…

  Dear Everly,

  It’s the smallest shit right now. The absolute smallest shit. You’d put the milk back in the fridge when there was the smallest sip left. You’d put a box of cereal back into the pantry closet when there was nothing but sugar dust in the bag. It used to drive me nuts. I’d shake the empty gallon of milk and shake my head. I’d shake the box of cereal as though it would magically refill back up. I bit my tongue so hard most of the time it hurt for days.

  But you know what would happen?

  YOU.

  You’d walk into the kitchen. On a sleepy Sunday. Your hair pushed off to the right side of your head, messy on your shoulder. You’d yawn with sleep in your eyes and sleep on your breath. One side of your face would still be a little red from where you slept on it. You’d lift your arms way over your head and go to your tip toes. The long t-shirt you stole from me would lift up and show me your legs. Those damn legs. You’d show me your panties. Those damn panties.

  Then you’d stumble your way toward me and stick out your bottom lip. You’d blink fast and hard at me. And you’d throw your arms around me and make me hug you. Well, not that you’d ever have to make me hug you, Everly. You know I’d forever hug you.

  And when you’d hug me and I’d hug you, nothing mattered. Not the dumb shit to fight about. Stupid milk. Stupid cereal.

  You’d look up at me and smile.

  And it’s the same thing Sadie does to me. She’ll do something that will get to me and then she flips a switch and looks at me. Messy hair. Pouty lip. And I’m screwed. I hug her, she hugs me, and it’s all fixed.

  Except her hugs don’t fix everything. But I can’t tell her that.

  I miss the empty milk and cereal, Everly. I caught myself the other morning dumping the milk out, just to do it. I put the empty container back in the fridge. So the next morning I’d wake up and it would make it seem like you were here. Only the next morning I had no milk and no hug from you.

  Why is it the dumb shit that gets to me in all of this? There’s so much bigger stuff around me. Yet it’s the smallest thing. It’s taking a shower and not seeing your hair stuck to the wall where you’d always put it for some reason (I never understood why). I fucking miss it.

  I love you endlessly,

  Jake

  Chapter Eight

  That Damn Table

  (Jake)

  I grabbed the fucked up shirt from the laundry basket and threw it into the washer. The blue paint had faded for the most part. Not that it mattered. There were blotches of black from working at the garage. It was a junk shirt anyway.

  I took hell from Mickey for a good hour after going to work with paint all over me. He asked me if I was late because I decided to do some fingerpainting at the daycare. We had two other guys that helped out part time at the shop. They were both there and they loved hearing Mickey rip into me a little.

  I should have just thrown the shirt out right then. But I didn’t.

  When I picked up Sadie from daycare that day, Emily was already gone. Miss Anderson apologized ten more times to me for the mishap, not that I gave a damn.

  What I did give a damn about was that I actually washed the shirt. And dried the shirt.

  I stood in the basement of the house, staring at a white basket of clothes. My clothes. I threw the shirt over my shoulder and opened the washer. Something else that was interesting in my life. Taking care of Sadie’s laundry. All the little girl clothing. The nightgown pajamas with her favorite characters on them. Stuff I never thought I’d have to touch, let alone, wash, dry, fold, and put away.

  I started the dryer and threw the shirt with the blue paint stain back into the washer.

  Why the fuck did I keep it? Why the fuck did I wash it?

  Growling under my breath, I plucked the shirt back out of the washer. I balled it up and threw it into the trashcan next to the washer.

  I walked to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a beer. I jammed the beer bottle into the laundry basket and walked up the steps. I put the beer on the counter and took my laundry basket to my room. To the guest room. I dropped the basket into the corner and laundry was done. That’s how I did shit. Dirty clothes go on the floor until the basket of clean clothes was empty. Then I’d fill it and wash it all. Two years later and I still wasn’t even fucking settled on how to do laundry the right way.

  I put my hands to my face.

  Shit like that wore me down.

  I stood tall and wide, a fucking warrior ready for battle on the outside.

  But inside…?

  Christ, just the other night I had that extra beer that put me over the emotional edge and I caught myself outside on the deck thinking about Everly. Grabbing for the cushion to her favorite chair. The one that faced the sunrise. I always sat opposite her. I didn’t need a fucking sunrise in the morning when I had her face to look at.

  I sat in the corner of the deck, holding the cushion, eyes shut, my anger boiling so hard I thought my veins were going to pop from the heat and stress. In a way I wanted everything to pop and explode.

  But I could never let that happen.

  Not with Sadie.

  Without me, she had nobody. Losing her mother was bad enough. She didn’t need me to be gone as well.

  I rubbed my jaw and took a deep breath.

  The clock on the wall told me it was after nine already. (“Jake! Look at this clock. It’s so cool, right? The metal. The age of it. I know we don’t have a place… no, wait. The guest room! It would look really cool there. I’m going to get it. I have to get
it. I’ll use my money. Why are you making that little smirk at me? Because I’m excited? You’re a jerk… but I love you.”)

  I walked to the wall and reached for the clock. I pulled it off the wall and took it to the closet. There I gently hide it behind some boxes. Hiding the memory. It was sometimes easier to do that. Hide the memory.

  Downstairs I picked up my beer and went out front. I needed to avoid her chair and her cushion. Not that I was drinking too much or anything. I just needed a clear head for a minute.

  I stood on the porch and looked at the hooks at the top of the porch. I installed them to hang flowers there. I stopped hanging flowers two years ago.

  I leaned against the porch and looked up and down the quiet street. A few random lights on here and there. Street lights were scarce and didn’t really start showing up unless you were a few blocks down as you got closer to the main roads.

  Damn, it was so quiet.

  Through the shadows of the night I saw the dining room table out at the sidewalk of Emily’s house. The damn table. The thing should have never ended up broken. Why the hell hadn’t she just asked for help? Called a friend? Waited… she could have bothered me. It wasn’t like we were complete strangers.

  I gritted my teeth as an idea came to me.

  I turned and went back inside.

  Up in Sadie’s room, I grabbed the handheld unit of the baby monitor we used for her when she was an infant. I kept the monitor in there in case she was sleeping and I was in the garage or down in the basement. There were times when I just needed to get the hell away from everything. And, yes, that included Sadie. As much as I loved her. But she would never know that.

  Sadie was tucked in her bed. The bed at one point was a crib. A crib where Sadie slept as a baby. This little peanut, swaddled up tight, sleeping. Damn, I’d stand at the edge of the crib and just watch her. Wonder about her. I’d stand there until Everly would come in and drag me to our bedroom. And for good reason too…

  I reached down and touched Sadie’s cheek.

  She stirred and let out a little noise.