by Emma Scott
He shrugged. “Work and school keep me busy.”
I blinked. “What do you mean, school?”
He made a face. “Bound to come up sooner or later. I went back to UNLV to get an MBA.”
“Teddy.” I socked his arm. “Shit, that’s awesome. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He smiled dryly. “You weren’t really in the mood to make conversation.”
I snorted. “Seriously, when did you start? How much do you have left?”
“January and I have a year to go.”
I curled in my seat to face him. “Why did you go back?”
“So when I buy my own place, I won’t be totally in the dark about how to run it.”
I felt my cheeks stretch in the widest smile I’d worn in ages. “I’m so proud of you. Does that sound condescending?”
Theo said, “No,” while nodding his head ‘yes.’
I laughed and socked his arm. “Smartass.”
I sat back in my seat, a strange, hopeful thought sparking in my mind. If he opened a shop in New Orleans, I’d have a friend.
My best friend.
What else would you call the person who dropped everything to fly across the country to save my life?
“Do you think you might want to open a shop somewhere outside of Vegas?” I asked slowly.
“Maybe. Mom’s health isn’t great.” He waved his hand at my alarmed expression. “She’s okay, she’s just… She had the rug pulled out from under her, you know? She’s shaky and scared all the time. I’d feel like shit leaving town.”
Theo was stuck. Suspended. Just like the Tarot card said. My short-lived fantasy he might open a shop in New Orleans died a swift death. Family comes first, of course, but I hated the idea of him not pursuing his dream.
“I’m sure there’s a way you can market a shop in Vegas so it stands out,” I told him. “You’re really talented, Teddy. I’ve seen your work. Inked has featured your work. If you open a shop, customers will come for you.”
“Maybe. It’s a risk. It was already risky. New businesses fail all the time. It would be different if it wasn’t Jonah’s money…” He shook his head, biting off his own words. “I’ll get this degree first and go from there.”
He clearly wanted me to drop the subject so I did. I turned my head to the window and watched the land slide beneath us. Soon enough—too soon—the plane began its descent and I watched Las Vegas—and all of the memories I shared with Jonah—growing closer and closer.
Tears blurred my vision but I blinked them back to watch the Strip with its lights—brilliant and colorful even at midday—glow against the yellow sands. Like colored glass glinting in the sun.
Las Vegas held all that scared me the most, and it was beautiful.
Theo
We got my truck out of McCarran’s long-term parking and drove to the hotel so Kacey could drop off her bags. She’d reserved a room at a little budget place off the Strip, not too far from my parents’ house.
“They know I'm coming, right?” she asked, chewing her lip as we drove to the Belvedere neighborhood.
“I told them we’d head over after you got settled.”
“But they don’t know I was drunk for nearly six months.”
“I didn’t tell them anything,” I said. “That’s up to you.”
Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, as she watched Vegas go by outside the window.
“It’s going to be okay, Kace. I promise.”
Kacey nodded. “Funny. Here, in the truck, with the windows rolled up? I feel secure. Barricaded. But when we step outside, when I breathe in Vegas… It’ll be like breathing in Jonah. The memories. They’re in the air, you know? Like I’ll feel them in my chest when I inhale.” She put her hand over her heart and rubbed as if it pained her.
I had no fucking clue what to say to that. Just as it had been with her withdrawals, there was nothing I could say to make the pain any easier to take. I just had to be there for her, if that helped at all.
As I turned onto my parents’ street, Kacey sucked in a breath. By the time I parked, tears flooded her eyes.
“We’re not even out of the car, yet.” She stared out the car window. “I’m home,” she whispered. “It’s Jonah's home, but it felt like mine, too. Your parents made me feel welcome and loved. In a way my parents never did. And I left. I just…left.”
I turned in my seat toward her. “Hey. Look at me.”
She turned her head.
“You’re here now.”
She nodded, smiling weakly and then wiped her eyes. “Let’s do this.”
We climbed out of the car, and walked side by side to the house. The front door opened before I could knock. My mother walked straight by me and engulfed Kacey in a hug. They hugged and cried on the front stoop, then cried and hugged on the living room couch. Over and over, Kacey told her how sorry she was. Over and over, my mother hushed her, brushed back her hair and smudged away tears.
“I understand,” she said. “You did the hardest thing. You stayed with Jonah to the end. For that, you’ll always have a place in this family.”
I rummaged in the fridge, trying not to listen until finally my mother clapped her hands and declared the crying was over. It was time to eat.
“Everyone out on the patio.” She called to the back of the house, “Henry? Theo’s back. With Kacey. Let’s get the nice steaks, yes? Kacey, you like steak?”
Kacey nodded her head and I got the impression she’d have eaten them raw if it made my mother happy.
“Wonderful. Theo, dear, will you start the grill? Oscar and Dena will be here any minute.”
My father emerged from the den and gave Kacey a hug and a peck on the cheek, and then we got down to the business of Sunday dinner.
I worked the grill, flipping six porterhouses over the fire while Kacey and my parents made small talk. I didn’t listen but through the smoke of the grill, my eyes focused on the empty chair next to Kacey and to my dad’s right from where he sat at the end of the table. Kacey’s hand rested on the armrest, her fingers running along the wooden slat. My dad put his hand on the back of it as he leaned in to tell Kacey something.
Jonah was sitting in the chair. I could see him, plain as day, in the drape of our father’s arm, holding Kacey’s hand. He was right there, taking up that seat. It was forever his.
I brought the platter of steaks to the table and hesitated. Where was my place? My parents were on either end, two empty chairs on one side for Oscar and Dena, Kacey and Jonah’s chair on the other.
I busied myself using silver tongs to plate the steaks.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” my mother said, cupping Kacey’s cheek.
“It's all thanks to him.” Kacey looked at me. “I was in a bad way. Trying to stay numb.” She smiled at me, shaking her head. “Teddy dropped everything and came to the rescue.”
“He did, indeed.” Dad turned to me. “Did you speak with your professors about the exams you missed?”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, although the emails I’d received from my professors weren’t fine in the slightest. Kacey gaped at me, alarm and regret twisting her features. I hated my dad a little just then.
“And your job is still waiting for you?”
“Henry,” my mother said. “I'm sure he sorted everything out beforehand.”
“Everything's fine,” I said, the heat rising up in my face. I dumped my dad’s steak on his plate harder than I meant to.
“I'm merely stating my concern for your responsibilities here,” Dad said. “I'd hate to see you jeopardize your standing with the university. Tuition is expensive, and Jonah's contribution can only—”
“Nothing is in jeopardy, Dad,” I said. “So just drop it.”
“Drop it like it's hot?” asked a cheerful voice from the patio gate. “I see it’s business as usual Chez Fletcher.”
“Oscar,” Kacey said, rising to her feet. “Dena.”
She threw herself between them and they squashed
her tight. The three friends embraced, the women holding on to each other the longest.
“Girl, you skipped town like the mob was after you,” Oscar said. Over the six months Kacey was gone, he hardly mentioned her, or asked about her, and then usually only if Dena did first. He smiled his broad smile at her and I didn’t doubt that he was happy she was back, but once the reunion it was over, it was business as usual.
My mother clapped her hands together. “Everyone sit. Eat before it gets cold.”
I took the only seat available, the one that had been Jonah’s and sat down, feeling like an imposter, despite Kacey’s warm smile for me.
She filled everyone in on where she was living and working, and my mother crowed about how she’d always wanted to go to New Orleans. Kacey asked about Oscar and Dena's respective jobs—Oscar doing computer programming for the MGM Grand; Dena working as an adjunct literature professor at UNLV. The women fawned over Dena's engagement ring. Oscar and I made small talk about the Runnin’ Rebels basketball chances this year. But underneath it all, was a sad truth: We were a bunch of people sitting around propping up the conversation with false smiles and high-pitched voices, trying to ignore the gaping black hole in our lives.
“I have a ticket to next week’s game,” Oscar said. “That is, if you don’t already have a date lined up.”
I felt Kacey’s sideways glance at the same time Mom asked, “Are you seeing someone special, dear?”
“No,” I said. “I’m too busy with work and school.”
“Yeah, right.” Oscar laughed while Dena regarded me with those dark brown eyes of hers—eyes that had a way of looking through you. I glanced away before she saw too much.
“So, listen,” Kacey said. She tapped her fork against her water glass and threw a look around the table. “I need to say something. I owe you all an explanation.”
“You don’t owe us anything, dear,” my mom said.
Kacey shook her head. “No, I do. For you and for myself.” She huffed a breath and the entire table went still. I wanted to take her hand, let her know she had my support, but didn’t dare. Not while sitting in Jonah’s chair. I nudged her foot under the table instead.
She shot me a grateful smile.
“I told you I’ve been in New Orleans for the last six months. I headed east and kept driving until I landed there. Or maybe I just ran out of steam. I left Vegas because losing Jonah was harder than I could’ve imagined. I thought I was ready. Or at least a little bit prepared. I wasn't. Not even close.”
I glanced around the table, all of them unmoving, unblinking but all of them—all of us—connected by our own memories of those fucking horrible days after Jonah left us.
“I tried,” Kacey said. “I wrote a bunch of music really fast, as if I could outrun the grief and get it all out on paper. But it didn't work. The words weren’t enough and I was too scared to face the enormity of the grief. I thought it would destroy me. So I fled to a different city, hoping to outrun the memories. And when that didn't work, I started drinking.”
The table shifted now, leaning forward or back, tucking hair and scratching at chins. I pressed my foot to hers harder. Kacey sucked in a breath and I knew what she was going to say next. The hardest thing.
“I’ve been drunk for the last six months. Literally. Every day, all day.” She looked at me, her eyes brimming. “Theo saved my life. I was slowly killing myself, and if Teddy hadn't found me…”
“Kace,” I murmured. It wasn’t a big deal and yet it was. I wanted to brush it aside and I wanted to be proud I helped her. I wanted to earn my seat, and yet I already belonged here.
God, when will everything stop feeling so fucked up?
Kacey smiled down at me. “He’ll never tell you what he went through to help me sober up, but I’ll tell you: it was hell. He never left, no matter how hard it got. I’ll never be able to repay him for saving my life.”
She heaved another sigh and wiped her eyes. “So I’m here now, thanks to him, but also because I missed all of you. And I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry I made you worry or made you angry or hurt you. I’m sorry and… I’m sorry.”
Mom took Kacey’s hands. Dena’s chair scraped on the stones as she stood up and came around the table to join the embrace.
Oscar, his expression subdued, was slowly nodding at me.
Dad shifted in his seat. “I had no idea her situation was so dire.”
I braced myself for the “But…” The addendum that diminished what I’d done, or the rest of the lecture. But my dad stared past me, turning tonight over in his mind.
Do you see now, Dad? I thought. I had to go. I made a promise. I went to her now, and I’ll go to her again if I have to. I’ll fail a hundred classes and be fired from a hundred jobs before I let anything happen to her again.
Kacey
“You’ll come back tomorrow?” Beverly asked, hugging me goodnight. “How long are you in town?”
“Just a few days,” I said.
Her face fell. “Oh. I thought you might be here longer. Or that you’d be moving back…?”
“Mom,” Theo said. “She’s tired…”
“I have to go back,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m booked for gigs and I’m trying to keep my obligations. “I’ll visit tomorrow. For dinner? Can I bring something?”
Beverly hugged me again. “Just yourself, dear.”
Dena pulled me in next. Her hug was like her gaze; warm and soft, and completely welcoming. Though she was only a few years older than me, she exuded wisdom I didn’t think I’d ever know. Looking at her, I realized what it meant to be an old soul. “You did a brave thing,” she said softly. “It might not feel like it, but it is.”
“I don’t feel brave,” I said. “One minute I feel proud for getting out of the hole. The next minute I hate myself for digging in so deep in the first place.”
“We all have our ways of coping,” Dena said, holding me at arms’ length. “You found something that felt like relief, something to numb you, and you clung to it, even as it dragged you down. But you climbed out, knowing how hard it would be on the other side. You should feel more proud than ashamed.”
I hugged her tightly. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she said. “And I miss Jonah. It’s been harder than I ever imagined. But seeing you again reminds me how happy he was.” She smiled and held my shoulders. “I know he carries that joy with him wherever he is. Take comfort in that if you can, love.”
“I will.”
But it was a lie. I didn’t feel any comfort. I didn’t even know what comfort meant anymore. Especially tonight, here at the Fletchers’ house, where Jonah looked at me from photographs and dangled overhead in the glass lamps he’d made. Where he leaned over my shoulder and touched the small of my back. How I kept turning to look at him and ask what he thought, but it was Theo who looked back at me. I missed Jonah so badly, I could feel the cracks in my heart left by his absence. It felt impossible that they’d ever be healed.
Theo drove me to the hotel. He parked in front but I didn’t move to get out.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
He frowned. “How bad is what?”
“The situation with your classes.”
“Fuck, Kacey, don’t…”
“Tell me.”
He sighed. “I might have to retake one or two. Not a big deal.”
I closed my eyes and slumped in my seat. “I owe you so much.”
“You don’t owe me a damn thing,” Theo said. “Stop saying you do.” His voice softened. “You look beat. Come on. I’ll walk you up.”
“Wait…” I glanced at the hotel. “I’m not really ready to be alone right now. It’s so fucking hard. If I hole up in my room alone, I’ll just cry all night.”
Theo was quiet a minute. Then he said in a low voice, “I know a place we can go.”
They call New York the city that never sleeps, but Vegas deserved the title more. The Strip was bust
ling on a Sunday night. Cars jammed the street in rows of red and white, and pedestrians streamed along the sidewalks. We passed the Bellagio Hotel and Casino, where Jonah and I had gone once. Our first date, I realized, when the lit-up fountains danced to a romantic ballad. Tonight it was Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” accompanying them, but it didn’t matter: I could still see us. Everything about that night was right there, perfectly preserved at the forefront of my mind. I could taste the cupcake he’d bought for me from an ATM.
I swallowed hard and looked away. Theo guided the truck down a side street next to the Wynn Hotel, and I knew where he was taking me.
“It’s late,” I said softly. “The Galleria will be closed.”
“I got it covered,” he said.
He parked the truck in a service lot, where employees parked, and came around to open my door.
“Do you moonlight here?” I asked, as he took my hand and walked me to a back entrance.
“They know me,” he said.
That was true, but the security guard didn’t know me. “Not sure about this, Theo,” he said, stroking his mustache.
“She’s Jonah’s girlfriend,” Theo replied.
The guard’s eyes swept me up and down, taking in my bloodshot eyes and stooped shoulders. A smile unfolded beneath the mustache as he punched a code and let us in.
“Have a good night, Theo. You too, Miss.”
“Thanks, Wilson,” Theo said, and led me through the back corridors of the Wynn.
“They just let you in here?” I asked. I was already lost in the rights and lefts, but Theo seemed to know exactly where he was going. He was still holding my hand.
“I come here a lot,” he said.
The Galleria was closed, but after a few words with the other security guard on duty, the door was unlocked for us and we went in. My hand slipped into Theo’s as we walked the long leg of the L-shaped gallery, lined with stone sculptures. When we came to the bend, I stopped.
Theo’s hand squeezed mine. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
