by Amie Knight
Present
Age 22
Cotton fields. The creek at dusk, the pink sun glinting off the water. A blue swing set. Fireflies in jars. The stars. Sleeping bags. A fire pit. An above-ground pool. Children swimming in that pool. Children. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Gorgeous smile. Lori.
Lori screaming. A hospital bed. Beep. Whoosh. Machines everywhere. Tubes everywhere. Beep. Big, vacant, black eyes. Whoosh. A casket. Lori inside. Death. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I shot up in the bed, clutching my chest, my heart feeling like it was beating a million times per minute. I grabbed my phone and shut the alarm off. Eight a.m. I gripped the front of my sweat-drenched T-shirt while trying my hardest to get my breathing under control.
Big breath, Ainsley. One. Another one. Two. One more. Three.
Better. Almost better. I flopped back on my pillow and pulled my wet hair off my forehead with my hand. Breathe.
When my breathing finally calmed, I got out of bed and went to the bathroom attached to my bedroom in my small apartment. I took my time, meticulously washing my hair and my body with the water as hot as it would go. I needed to rinse away the bad dream, the bad memories that still tormented me even years later.
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my towel, drying off. I looked at the too-thin girl in the mirror and cringed. She looked pathetic, lonely, and broken. I didn’t want to be that girl, so I set about fixing her. Or at least trying.
I grabbed my makeup box from under the sink. I primed my face, applied base then powder. I contoured. I bronzed. I blushed. I did deep, dark eyeshadow then added fake lashes. I darkened my eyebrows then added a dark-red stain to my lips.
Using my flat iron, I straightened my hair until not even the smallest curl dared to make an appearance.
I stared at myself in the mirror, the made-up me, and felt stronger and better. I didn’t look a thing like me. I had my armor on. Perfect.
I put my underwear and my bra on and grabbed a plain, black, slim, fitting dress with three-quarter sleeves. It hugged my body from my shoulders to my knees. I slipped a pair of gold hoop earrings and my black flats on and headed into the living room.
Shit. I did a double take of the living room. Pieces of paper, markers, fabric, and buttons were scattered everywhere. It basically looked like a craft store had thrown up in there. I walked all the way into the room and lost my shit. Glitter all over the sofa cushions. Kelly and I had talked about this. Glitter was the herpes of crafts. Once you have that shit in your house, you can never get rid of it. Fuck my life. I was going to kill her.
Even as mad as I was, I wasn’t a damn bit surprised. Kelly loved to craft. She’d go to the craft store and buy it all. Bless her heart, but she had big plans, and unfortunately, none of them came to fruition. The girl had a terrible case of attention deficit disorder. We had half-finished Pinterest projects all over our place, and no matter how much I tried to rein her in, she’d find a way to sneak another project into the apartment to be half-completed and laid in a pile of other half-finished crap. To make matters worse, she often didn’t put her belongings away after her midnight making-shit marathons. She drove me bonkers.
I grabbed the vacuum and started cleaning the glitter. God, it was bad. Even as I was cleaning Kelly’s mess, I couldn’t help but smile, because as crazy, unorganized, sloppy, and ADD as my roommate was, she was still my best friend and the most amazing, giving, and caring person I knew. She’d give you the shirt off her back. I’d learned that on day one.
When I’d arrived at Nashville School of Music with nothing but my old truck, two duffel bags, and my violin. I’d walked into the dorms feeling lost. I’d left everything I held dear, everything I loved, four hundred and fifty miles southeast. I had been terrified, and I’d never felt more alone in my entire life.
When I got to my assigned dorm room, the door was open, and inside, unpacking her stuff, stood a tiny fairy of a girl. This girl was even shorter than I was, and her black hair was styled in the most adorable pixie cut. She was precious, and I could tell by her beaming smile and her kind eyes that she wanted to be great friends.
“Hi. I’m Kelly Potter. I guess we’re roomies?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
I didn’t want to make friends. I was there to go to school, get my degree, and get on with my life. I didn’t want to be close to anyone. I wanted to play the violin and forget about everything and everyone. I definitely didn’t want to form new attachments to people who could leave me or hurt me. I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
I gave her a tight-lipped smile. It was all I could muster. “Yeah. I’m Ainsley,” I said quietly, turning away from Kelly and toward my side of the room.
Shit. I looked at the bare mattress. I hadn’t even thought to bring sheets and covers or a pillow. I’d have to buy all of that, but not that day. I was exhausted from having been on the road for almost seven hours.
“What do you play? Or are you voice?” she asked.
I didn’t turn around. I just kept looking at that mattress. It was stained and lumpy. It looked old and worn out—like I felt. I wanted to cry about that dingy mattress and my miserable self, but instead, I answered her with, “Violin.”
“Yeah? That’s awesome,” she said behind me. If she’d noticed my sadness, she didn’t let on. “I’m a percussionist.” She’d said it with gusto.
I felt one side of my mouth quirk. This tiny girl played the drums. It was really cute and kind of funny.
“Cool,” I said in return, because it was.
We spent the rest of the day unpacking, and Kelly seemed to know I didn’t want a lot of conversation, because she kept to herself. That night, after I’d showered and put my pajamas on in the communal bathrooms, I came back to my room to find clean sheets, a pillow, and a blanket on my bed. I looked from Kelly to my bed and then back again.
“You didn’t bring any bedding, right? I mean, I noticed you unpacked everything but didn’t make your bed. I had some extra stuff. It’s no big deal.” She looked away as she finished her sentence. She was trying not to make me uncomfortable.
God, I sucked. “Thanks,” I muttered as I climbed under the fresh-smelling sheets and laid my head on the soft pillow. I turned my body, facing the wall, and let the tears fall.
I didn’t deserve her kindness. I was an awful fucking person. I hadn’t protected Lori. I had deserted my family, my best friend, and the love of my life because I was a pussy. I hated myself, and with the way I had treated Kelly all day, she should have hated me too. Instead, she had been nothing but kind. Yep, I was an awful person.
Girlfriend must have been a straight-up glutton for punishment. Turned out my miserable personality hadn’t put Kelly off at all. Instead, she’d taken me in like a lost puppy. When she’d thought I wasn’t eating enough, she’d brought me food. When I hadn’t bathed for days at a time, she’d shoved me down the hall to the showers. When she’d deemed I needed the outdoors, she’d forced me into the sunshine. When I had been at my lowest, she’d practically picked me up and carried me through it. She’d forced her way into my life, banging drums, crafting like a boss, and making me laugh when all I’d wanted to do was cry.
That first semester away from home had nearly killed me. I’d been depressed, missing my family and friends. I’d missed Adrian most of all, and my stupid heart box didn’t even work. The memories only seemed to make me miss him more. I’d wanted to throw those memories away then, but instead, I’d been stuck with them. Kelly had been my saving grace that first year of college. She’d been pretty much my only friend. She knew me inside and out, and even though I was a moody, grumpy bitch half of the time, she put up with it. Because she loved me. And she understood my struggles and insecurities.
We’d wanted out of the dorms before our senior year and decided on this smallish, two-bedroom apartment. We’d been there all year, and we loved it, but part of me still missed sharing an actual room with Kelly. Three years made it a hard habit to break.
I owe
d Kelly my sanity—my life, even. I guess cleaning up after her slovenly ass wasn’t so bad.
After I was done cleaning up the living room, I made my way to the kitchen, started some coffee, and tidied up a bit. The coffee was finished brewing and I was almost done with the kitchen when Kelly stumbled out of her bedroom. She was wearing a pink T-shirt that swamped her tiny frame and came down to her knees. Her short hair was all over the place. Damn, if only I could roll out of bed looking that darn cute.
“Morning, Ains,” she said as she sat at the kitchen bar opposite me.
I put some bread in the toaster and looked at her pointedly. “We talked about the glitter, Kelly. For four years, we have been talking about the glitter. You promised not to use it in our new place, and you almost made it an entire year. Why would you do that? Why?”
Yeah, I was being a bit dramatic, but it was glitter, for fuck’s sake, and it was all over our apartment. We had been infected.
“Another bad dream last night?” Kelly asked while pointing to the coffee pot.
I didn’t know how she always knew, but she could see right through my makeup, straight to the heart of me. I didn’t know if it was in my haunted eyes or what, but I couldn’t get a thing past this girl.
I nodded but quickly changed the subject. “The glitter, Kells! The glitter of it all! That’s what we are talking about.” I popped some toast and waited for her to wake up some.
Finally, as I was buttering my toast, she said, “I’m sorry, girl. I failed last night. I couldn’t help it. I needed it for the scrapbook page. It was only perfect once I added that small touch of glitter.”
Small touch my ass. It had been everywhere.
I shook my head and took a bite of toast, handing her the other piece. “I told you not to buy those glitter pens. I knew they would be a gateway drug, and now, look at you.” I pointed to the glitter stuck to the left side of her face. “You’re a mess.”
Kelly furiously rubbed at her face and asked, “So, now that you are free as a bird, what are you up to today?”
I was nowhere near free as a bird. I’d graduated, true, and school exams were history, but I still felt overwhelmed with all I had to do.
“I have two violin lessons I’m giving today, and tonight, I play at Boots,” I answered.
Kelly had a friend who played bluegrass, and sometimes, they needed a violin and a backup voice. When they did, I was lucky enough that they called me. I loved playing in Nashville. It was amazing and lively, and it kept me from thinking. Playing was still my escape. Bluegrass or classical, I didn’t care. Either way, I got my fix.
“You playing with Brooks tonight?” she asked with mischief in her eyes.
“God, give it up, Kell. Any man who names his band after himself is not for me. Don’t get me wrong. He’s good-looking, but he’s way too self-absorbed. And, yes, I’m playing with The Brooks Taylor Band tonight. He called me up a couple of days ago to ask, and I could use the money.”
Kelly was rubbing at the glitter on her face again when she said, “He’s not self-absorbed. He’s a nice guy. And he is calling because he wants to talk to you, not just because he needs backup.”
I rolled my eyes, but she continued.
“He likes you, honey. Give him a chance. I think it’s time for you to try to move on, ya know. I mean, you can’t just never date again. I know you loved Adrian, but—”
My phone rang at that exact moment, and I had never been happier. I smiled to myself even as I reached across the counter for it. I was hoping that it was news about my audition with the Nashville Symphonic Orchestra. I had submitted a video and was waiting for a call back to actually come in and audition. I was also hoping this would end my conversation with Kelly.
She could take her speech and shove it. Even all this time later, I wasn’t ready to date. I had tried, but I just couldn’t. I still loved Adrian too much, and I had spent the past four years building up just how epic our relationship had been from the time we were children. I knew that no other man could ever compare.
My smile dropped as I stared at the screen. It was Miranda. Again. We usually spoke once a month, but she had been calling every day for the past week. I’d been ignoring her. I only spoke to her and Momma both just once or twice a month for a reason. I knew that, if I were close with them and talked to them all the time, I’d want to go home. Part of me already did, but a bigger part of me was terrified to. My stomach churned at the thought of driving through that small town again and seeing all the places Lori and I had been together. I just couldn’t.
“Is it Miranda again?” Kelly asked.
I nodded and sent the call to voicemail. Voicemail I was pretty much refusing to check.
“What if it’s something important she needs to talk to you about? Don’t you think you should call her back? She’s been calling a lot lately, and she usually doesn’t.” She took another bite of toast. “I’d call her back, Ains.”
I knew she was right. Miranda hadn’t pressured me to talk more than I was willing. It was like she knew I had my limits of what I could stand and I wasn’t ready to come home. It was definitely out of character that she’d been calling every day for a week. Fuck.
God, what if something was wrong with Adrian or my momma? What if I had to go back there? I knew that’s why I was avoiding her calls. I was scared.
“I’ll call her back later. I have a really busy day.” The excuse rolled off my tongue with ease, but it tasted terrible in my mouth. I should call her back now. Something could be wrong.
I left Kelly at the house still in her pajamas and headed to my first violin lesson. Now that I was done with this school, I needed these lessons to make money. The student loan train had stopped and I needed the cash. My goal was to teach lessons full time, make my living from them, and audition for the Nashville Philharmonic. I wanted to perform more than I wanted anything. I wouldn’t get paid for it, but I still wanted it.
After my lessons, I came home, practiced the song list for the gig at Boots a little, and then changed into a short jean dress and brown cowgirl boots. I added some silver hoop earrings and a long, silver necklace and touched up my makeup. I was almost ready to leave when I heard my phone buzz, which signaled that I’d received a text. I dug my phone out from my giant purse and took a look.
Miranda: Stop avoiding my calls, Ains. It’s important. We need to talk.
God. She wasn’t going to let up. It must have been pretty bad if she was contacting me nonstop like this. My palms began to sweat, and my heart galloped in my chest. I answered anyways, though, because I really didn’t have a choice at this point.
Me: I’m here. Sorry I’ve been really busy lately.
I twirled a piece of my flat-ironed hair. Please don’t let it be bad news. Please.
Miranda: I really need to talk to you on the phone. Text messages are not gonna cut it, boo.
Dread filled me. It must have been pretty damn bad if she didn’t want to text me about it. I’d set up a time to talk with her tomorrow. I needed to get to my gig. I was lying to myself. I was putting this off because I couldn’t deal with what she had to tell me.
Me: Can I call you tomorrow? I’m just on my way out. I’m playing tonight.
The answer came back so fast that I knew she must have had it typed out and ready to go.
Miranda: No. You’ve been avoiding me for days. Pick up the damn phone.
As soon as I finished reading her text, my phone started ringing.
I answered the phone with a droned, “Hey, Miranda.”
“Hey, Ains,” she breathed into the phone. She sounded relieved, and immediately, I felt guilty. I should have answered days ago.
I bit the bullet and spilled my thoughts. “You’ve got bad news for me, right? Is that why you’ve been calling nonstop?” I sat on my bed, trying to prepare myself, rubbing my sweaty hands on my dress.
“Ainsley, I’ve been calling for days because you need to come home. I know you don’t want to, but you need to. I
’m gonna start by saying that your momma is okay and the doctors say her prognosis is really good, but she found a lump in her breast last month.”
I gasped into the phone, and Miranda paused. No! This could not be happening. God would not dare take my momma from me after all I had been through. He wouldn’t dare. The bed squeaked as I rocked back and forth, my body denying what my mind knew was true.
I listened closely when Miranda continued.
“It’s definitely cancer, but the doctors really think that, once her chemo is over and the mass is a bit smaller, they can perform surgery and get rid of it completely. They think everything is going to be fine, Ains. They really do. So I don’t want you to panic. Okay?”
Panic? Yeah, I was full-on panicking. I felt like there was someone sitting on my chest. Or something. Like an elephant. Yeah, an elephant was sitting on my chest and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I tried to bring in a big breath. It wouldn’t come, so I tried again.
“Her chemo started a couple of weeks ago,” she continued. “I figured she would call you to come home and help her, but every time I ask her, she says she’s fine and that she doesn’t want to upset you. You gotta come home, babe. She needs you. The chemo is making her sick and she can’t take care of herself, but she’ll never ask you. Never. So I am. Come home, Ainsley. Please?”
Fuck. She was already doing chemo and she hadn’t even told me. I needed to get my shit together for my momma, and I needed to start with my breathing. I gulped in big breaths while counting to three.
“Ainsley, are you okay? Say something. You’re scaring me,” Miranda whispered over the line.
My nose stung, and I knew what was to follow, so I made my sentence quick and to the point. I needed to get off this damn phone so I could cry my eyes out alone.
“I’ll be home in a few days,” I said quickly and hung up the phone. I rolled over, buried my face in my pillow, and screamed into it.
