by J. L. Mac
You are my rock, Sadie. You are my safe place in an unsafe world. My heart finds sanctuary in you. It always has. It always will.
You are my purpose in life and I am a lucky man to have made you my wife. Please know that no matter what life may bring us, my goal has always been to see you smile. No matter the cost, your smile is worth it. So promise me that you’ll smile. That you will laugh. That you won’t take life too seriously. That you’ll have babies if we don’t have the chance to. That you’ll invest in your work and in yourself even if the world seems like it won’t. You’ll win them over—you always do. Promise me that you will do your best to show everyone you meet how big your heart is and how tender your touch can be.
Promise me that you’ll allow yourself to be happy. You’re stubborn. No one knows that better than me, so I beg you to promise me that you’ll find love again. When the right one comes along, you’ll know, just like I knew you were the one. Don’t be afraid. Let him in. Let him have all of you. If not for you, do it for me. Know that you are never alone. Not now. Not ever. I’m beside you. I’ll always find a way to be with you, Sadie. I’ll come back to you. Somehow, I’ll be around.
Promise me these things even if they seem impossible. Even if it hurts. It’s all I ask of you. It’s all I could ever want, to know that the love of my life is happy.
All my love,
Jake
“I-I promise. I promise, Jake.” I bury my face in the now crumpled notebook paper and cry softly into my husband’s sweet words with renewed determination to do what I set out to do.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Messages
Zander
July 3, 2013
I tug the door on my mailbox open, noting that the hinges could use some oil. It’s just something else to keep me busy and my mind off of Sadie. I lean forward to look inside the box, expecting junk mail and maybe a few bank statements. The sight of a brown paper package has me scrunching my brows and wondering who the fuck has mailed me something. It could very well be my mother. She mails shit to me all the time to make it seem like she cares.
I right myself and glance around to see if there is anyone around. No one. I snake my hand into the galvanized metal box and pull out the package and a few ads. Flipping the small brown paper package over, I notice the return address right away.
Sadie Parker
803 Chestnut Lane
Atlanta, GA 30331
I flip the package over and over in my hands, inspecting it carefully. I haven’t heard from her. I haven’t seen her. I’ve spent every second since she walked out of my life searching for a way back in, but there’s simply no room for me. Her heart belongs to him and I have to find a way to come to terms with that.
Tucking the package under my arm, I begin my walk back into the house, Sadie on my mind. I wonder how she is. I wonder where she is. I wonder if she’s safe. I’d give just about anything to see her walking down that beach toward me one more time. I’d give just about anything to go back in time and start over with her, to pull her from that water and be more careful with her in hopes that she wouldn’t have to do what she did.
I suck in a breath through my clenched jaw and shake my head. It’s no use. Even if I could go back in time, it doesn’t change a goddamn thing. I am who I am. She is who she is and I could never love her enough to see her out of that kind of loss—not with my fucked up situation. If she needs closure, she can go looking for it. I’ll wait here for her like I said I would. Maybe that’s my way of loving her enough. It’s all I’ve got at this point. I just hope it’s enough. I hope she finds her way back to me like she said she would. It’s all I think about.
I toss the ads in the garbage and walk over to the fridge. I lay the package on my counter then dig out a glass. I pour my daily vegetable juice over ice and eye the package from Sadie like it may bite me. I lean against the counter and take a long draw from my glass that I still wish I could add vodka to. Tomato juice just isn’t the same without it. Another long gulp and the ice cubes slide to the edge then plink to the bottom of the glass as I set it down. I snatch up the package and rip it open, deciding that I should just get it over with.
What the fuck?
There’s a cell phone inside, wrapped in a thin scrap of bubble wrap. I slide it out of the package onto my counter, peeking back inside the package to find a note.
Zander,
No amount of explaining could make what I did hurt any less. Please know that I had to do what I did. I had to leave. I never wanted to hurt you. This is Jake’s cell phone. Dial one for his voicemail. The password is the month and year of our anniversary. 1109. Just listen. In spite of myself, you are my truth. You are my constant. You are my proof of life. You are my vital sign. With you, I more than breathe—I live. Please forgive me.
-Sadie
I pick up the outdated cell phone and peel away the bubble wrap. I look it over. The screen has some scratches on it. There’s a ding or two around the edges. Signs that it did belong to a man at some point. I hold down the power button and wait for Jake’s phone to power up. The welcome screen comes up, displaying the symbol of the cell phone maker. A little wheel spins and says “searching.” The phone chimes once and then a picture of Sadie fills the small screen. God, she’s beautiful. Her smile is bright and her eyes are so alive. It only makes my love for the woman that I never should’ve fallen for grow. Seeing her like this makes me want to be the one who has lit up her smile. Her brown eyes are full of that magic that makes a man willing to give her the earth, moon, and stars. I want to put that look in her eyes and that smile on her face. I want to give her the moon.
My eyes focus on the little service symbol. She never had Jake’s cell phone disconnected. I take in a deep breath and sigh at just another thing that Sadie did to hang on to him. It makes my stomach turn and my chest ache. I press the little phone symbol and then the voicemail symbol. Bringing the phone to my ear, I wait for it to connect.
“Please enter your voicemail box password followed by the pound sign.”
With one more glance at the note, I punch the password into the phone.
“You have no new messages. To listen to saved messages, please press one.”
I shake my head and press one not knowing what the hell I’m supposed to do here.
“March, 29, 2011.” Soft crying fills the line and my entire fucking body tenses.
Sadie.
I run my hands through my hair as I listen to soft whimpers on the line. She isn’t saying anything just weak little sobs. “Fuck,” I groan, feeling like someone has just punched me in the gut. The message ends and the robotic voice instructs me to press seven to go to the next message. The time stamp greeting goes on to give the date for the next voicemail.
“April 4, 2011.”
“Jake. Jake, please get better. Please don’t give up. Don’t leave me. I-I can’t…” she trails off tearfully and the message ends.
I press seven.
“April 19, 2011.”
“Jake. Jake please wake up. Please. I don’t want to believe them. You have to show them all that they’re wrong. I know you’re in there. I know you can still hear me. Please, Jake.”
Seven.
“April 27, 2011.”
“Jake!” A guttural groan comes from the phone and I flinch at how awful it sounds. “Jake! I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready!” More animalistic groaning and gasping comes down the line before it clicks off and I jab my finger at the phone to go to the next message.
Seven.
“May 11, 2011.”
“No one understands. I’m so lonely. I miss you. Can you hear me?” Sadie whispers between hiccups.
Seven.
“June 18, 2011.”
“Happy birthday. I love you.” She hangs up and I’m beginning to understand that this must have been her own form or therapy. It has been her way to vent and a way to hear his voice when she needed it most.
Seven.
I press t
he number with shaky fingers, both nervous and anxious to hear all of the messages.
“July 4, 2011.”
More soft crying, followed by garbled words, then the phone clicks off.
Seven.
“August 12, 2011.”
“I’m so alone. I hate everyone. Sometimes I think I can feel you around me. Am I crazy?” Her monotone voice lacks emotion and I can picture a dazed look on her face when she made the call. It makes me grimace.
Seven.
“September 19, 2011.”
“Group therapy is a fucking joke. I hate them. All of them. I just want to punch someone.”
Seven.
“October 2, 2011.”
“The holidays are coming. I’m scared to face them alone. I wish you could come back to me, Jake.”
Seven.
“March 17, 2012.”
“We have a nephew. Jackson was born this morning. He’s beautiful. I left after holding him for just a minute or two because it hurt. It’s not fair. I can’t blame Mom and Jenna for being pissed at me. I’m pissed at me too.”
Seven.
I go through three more messages with just the sound of Sadie crying, intermingled with emotional sighs, weepy pleas for the impossible, and hissed angry words directed at everyone. I’m ready to end the call. I can’t hear her cry anymore. It makes me want to go find her and kiss it all away. It makes me want to go back in time and soothe her. It makes me want to give back what was taken from Jacob Parker.
“March 21, 2013.”
“I’m meeting a few of the transplant recipients. Why can’t I be glad that you saved someone’s life?”
Seven.
“April 16, 2013.”
“A man named Alexander McBride got your heart. I’ll be meeting him soon. I hate him already. Does that make me crazy?”
Seven.
“April 20, 2013.”
“I met Mrs. Hampton the kidney lady and Terry Jones the liver guy. They were nice. She apologized a lot. He bought me dinner. His wife made me cry. I hated all of it. I may skip on meeting the guy who got your heart. I can’t take this.”
Seven. “April 22, 2013.”
“I met him. I met Alexander McBride. I miss you.”
Seven.
“April 23, 2013.”
“Jake. Jake. Jake,” she says into the phone like a prayer. It breaks my heart a little more. She doesn’t say anything else.
Seven.
“April 24, 2013.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should have let him touch me. I never should have wanted him to touch me. Jake…” Her violent crying fills my ear and have my eyes stinging with brewing tears of my own. I take a deep breath and swallow hard to keep it together.
Seven.
“April 27, 2013.”
“I messed up. I messed up so bad. There isn’t room for both of you. I wish I knew if you could hear me wherever heaven is.”
Seven.
“April 30, 2013.”
“I don’t know what to do, Jake.”
Seven.
“May 10, 2013.”
“I read your letter. I’ll keep my promise. I swear it. Thank you, Jake. Thank you for being you. Thank you for the letter. I wasn’t ready for it up until now. I’m scared, but I’m ready.”
Seven.
“July 1, 2013.”
“This—this is the last time. I cancelled the cell phone service finally. I have to go after him. I have to get him back. I’m going back to Tybee. Jake, I—I love him. I love Zander. I want to invite him in. I just hope that I can explain—that he can forgive me for staying away. That he’ll still want me. I have to let you go now. I have to let myself live. I love you always, Jake. Always.”
The call ends and the robotic greeting begins. “You have no more saved messages. Press—”
I end the call and just stare at the phone like it’s a fucking mystery. I’m shaking. What the fuck just happened? My mouth is hanging open a little and I feel like I’ve swallowed a fistful of wet sand.
“She loves me?” I mumble to myself, testing the words like they may evaporate before they even pass over my lips.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Making Room
Sadie
June 29, 2013
I guess the funny thing about grief is that it has a way of dictating so damn much.
If you let it.
And that’s what I have done for so long. Too long.
I had dismissed myself into the shadow of loss to disappear there because the bright light of my reality was far too much for the eyes that had seen so much, that had cried so many tears. I retreated into the caverns of my dimly lit existence and stayed there to keep company with invisible wounds, sure that I was far too weak to do battle with my opponent.
Then there was Zander. He slipped into my darkness and beckoned me out into the light to face reality. Not because he lured me there. Not because he enticed me. Not because he forced me. No. Zander summoned me without even knowing it. He gave me the courage to realize that the wholeness that fills me when I’m with him is so much more powerful than the guilt and sadness that I’ve insisted on carrying for so long. I’ve refused forgiveness and in turn have endured the torture of self-punishment. No one is capable of punishing a person quite like they’re capable of punishing themselves.
I’ve been cruel and unkind to me.
I picked on Sadie Parker, the girl who once had a carefree, artistic spirit. I despised her. I think I only envied her. I was angry that she had gone and I thought that wherever she’d retreated to was out of reach for the shell she’d left behind. I made myself sad and bitter and angry at the world around me for no reason other than misery loves company, I suppose. I forgive me, though. I forgive me. I forgive me. I forgive me. Everyone needs forgiveness, even from themselves. Maybe…mostly from themselves.
Only I am capable of giving myself that gift and so I have. I’m working on it. I’m doing battle against the darkness. I’m doing battle against the two years that I spent allowing myself to be miserable and dragging everyone around me down into the pits of my personal hell.
I wish I could write a letter to myself and drop it in the mail, sure that wherever the old me had moved on to, she’d get it. She’d read it and know that I intend on righting my wrongs. Starting with Zander. I have two years of my history to rewrite and it’s all in hopes that when I see him again, I’ll be a woman worth loving. He deserves that. He deserves all of me. I may not deserve him, but I have to try.
***
I toss Jackson into the air and he squeals in delight, his baby blue eyes sparkling, his huge grin showing off all eight of his little baby teeth. He’s getting bigger and it makes me sad that it’s taken me so long to be the happy, doting, spoiling aunt that my sweet nephew deserves. I try not to beat myself up over it, though. I’ve done enough damage to myself.
“Oh honey, Aunt Sadie loves you so much. You know that, right?” I ask, my lips pressed to his pudgy little cheek.
He giggles and babbles something or another. I’m still trying to earn my degree in “babble.” He has grown a little since the last time I saw him and it makes me profoundly aware that he’s moving right into the toddler stage even though I missed so much of the infant stage.
“Taydee—tuppee,” he babbles and I look to Jenna for a lifeline here.
“What?” I whisper to her.
“He said Sadie cuppy. He wants his juice,” she explains, pointing to his toddler cup on the counter.
I mouth “oh” and waste no time getting the juice for him. He squirms on my hip, ready to be free, and I set him down to rediscover the dining room that he has seen a thousand times. He toddles away in his unbalanced fashion and I smile, watching.
“I guess I have to get going,” I say with a sigh. “Said I’d be in session today. But give me a call when you ask Taylor about date night. I’ll keep him as long as I’m free.”
“I will. Maybe I’ll get laid.” She winks and I feig
n disgust.
“Oh…oh, God… I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. That’s gross, Jen. I don’t need to picture my brother-in-law dishing out tube steak to my sister. Gross,” I joke as I toss my purse over my shoulder and begin digging for my keys.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand dismissively.
I wrap my arms around her and give her a peck on the cheek. “See ya later, babe.”
“See ya.”
I check my cell phone as I turn the ignition.
Nothing.
No text. No missed calls. God, I miss him. I know that I told him to leave me alone. I made myself clear and I hadn’t given him any guarantees. I asked him to go away and have hope. I asked him to have faith that I’d make it back to him. I asked him to have faith that I could let go of Jake so that I could give myself to him fully. I asked a man who thinks himself unworthy of so much to take a backseat to my deceased husband. Looking back on it now, I asked him for so much. Too much. Maybe I should have tried to take this journey with him at my side. I know I wouldn’t have done it, though. Not fully. Not in the way that I needed to. I needed to be here in Atlanta. I needed to be with my family and let them know that I am sorry and I’m taking the right steps to be the Sadie they used to know. I needed to go to the group therapy sessions and actually listen instead of ridiculing everyone else there. I needed to say thank you. I needed to give hugs not just receive them. I needed to face all of Jake’s belongings. I needed to show not just my family, but myself, that I’m a lot stronger than I give myself credit for. I needed to do more showing than saying and that’s what this is all about. I want so badly to open the next chapter of my life with Zander, but I can’t move on to the next chapter until I finish up this one.
***
“Hey, Joel,” I say to the therapist that I once cussed out. I still cringe when I think about it.
“Hey, Sadie. Ready?”
“Yep.” I nod as I take my seat directly across from him in the circle of thirteen chairs that will seat twelve plus Joel.
