Give Me A Reason

by Jennifer Miller

  “Those lists I mentioned earlier? They came into being because my mother taught me the importance of looking for reasons for the important things in life. We would sit down together and make lists of all the things we wanted to accomplish, all the things we wanted to do. They became our reasons when we needed them. Our reasons to get through a tough time, a reason to get a good grade on a test so I could reward myself, my reason to graduate college, whatever the objective, desired outcome, goal – there was a reason for accomplishing it.”

  “Much like deciding where you want to eat – there’s a reason for why you choose that restaurant. Or why you choose one shirt over another – it could be because one is a better fit, you prefer the material, one feels better than the other, one looks hotter with that cute pair of jeans you love. Those are reasons.

  “This life of ours, cancer or no, isn’t guaranteed to anyone. My ultimate choice ended up being to undergo a total radical mastectomy and reconstructive surgery because when faced with the decisions of what to do, I chose the reason - my reasons - that worked for me. In a year, two years, five years, ten years, should I ever be faced with that decision again, I don’t know what I’ll choose, but I can tell you I’ll be coming up with reasons for each choice yet again and making a decision that’s best for me.”

  Because you see, life is full of choices - each one brings a reason for our decisions. We didn’t get to choose cancer but we can sure as hell decide what to do about it. That’s a decision that makes you brave and courageous. That’s what will set you free.”

  “If my mother were here, she would tell you to find your reasons, find the sparks that fuel your fire. I did. I found a few,” I look out at Oliver again and hope he can see the love I feel for him and the fact that I’m grateful he’s one of my reasons. “Use your reasons to help you step into your greatness – they will help determine your ultimate journey. One in which you turn your pain into purpose and live your life with no regrets.

  TEN YEARS LATER

  Standing before her, I take a moment to myself before placing a carnation in one spot and a lily on another soft bed of grass. Each time it takes me a few moments to collect myself before I can talk to her. Almost a year now and I still feel like it was yesterday. Sometimes, I don’t know if the pain will ever lessen or if my regrets will ever quit haunting me.

  “Hi, sunshine,” I choke out then clear my throat. “Sorry,” I say quietly, “Today is a tough one.”

  Sitting down in the grass, I stare at her headstone, my eyes blurring with emotion - I do my best to blink it away. “I know I was just here, but I guess I need to talk to you. It’s funny really, I talk to you all the time no matter where I am – I’m not sure why I feel like I need to come here to say something important.”

  Picking at the grass, I run my hand through my hair, “I wish I knew for sure that you could hear me. I wish I knew if you could see me, if you’re with me when you can be or if you know, feel or can see how much I miss you, how often I think of you. Are you happy? Do you miss me too? So many questions to which I hate not having the answers.”

  Realizing my fists are clenched in frustration, I breathe deeply and try to relax.

  “Remember how I told you I was asked to speak at the breast cancer awareness benefit tonight and how they want to honor your memory?” I laugh to myself because I swear I hear her protests in my mind, “I know, I know, you would hate that, but too bad. There’s nothing you can do about it. You were an inspiration to so many. And did I ever tell you how proud I was for you for being so vulnerable, for sharing your truth? I must do justice to you tonight. I’m here in part because I want to tell you what I’m going to say – to get your feedback, your input, your inspiration. Can you maybe give me a sign if this is ok?”

  I wait for a moment, for what I’m not sure… but the air is still, the cemetery quiet. “My message will be the same as yours, one that you not only communicated constantly through your speeches, but one you lived. But, sunshine, I can’t speak about you – about me – about us – and not tell them about my biggest regret.” I can feel my throat wanting to close but I continue on. “I’m going to tell them to remember that we only get one life. One. I’m going to beg them to live their life like they are dying; not to wait or wish but to act and speak and do all they desire now. I’ll remind them to live life to the fullest – that time is a precious commodity, not to be wasted or taken for granted…that each day, each hour, each minute is truly a gift. I’ll implore them not to allow the minutia of life to distract them from this truth. I’ll remind them to saturate themselves with the best thing life has to offer – the most important thing - love. I’ll remind them that love comes in a variety of sizes, shapes and situations. And that loving themselves is as important as loving others. I’ll tell them they can never have enough, never experience enough, give enough”

  I will also tell them how happy you were – no, we were – all those years in remission. How we didn’t waste a minute of the gift we were given. How we lived our lives to the max. How if you had chosen to base your decision on another or thought your journey would be the same as anyone else’s we would have missed out on some of the best years of our lives.”

  “You and I… we loved to the very depths of our souls, we experienced as much of this world as we could and lived our life together without regret. We challenged each other to always conquer our fears. I’m going to tell them all of that as well as how the years spent with you were the absolute best years of my life.”

  “I’m also going to tell them that I have one regret – a regret I must carry with me daily – one I’d not wish on anyone.”

  My voice cracks on that last word and this time a few tears escape my eyes and run down my cheeks, but I have no shame in them. “My biggest regret is that I waited so long to tell you the truth about how I felt about you. Because I didn’t act sooner I lost what could have been more time with you. Maybe someone in the crowd will need to be reminded to seize love and I can encourage them to do that.”

  Memories flood me from the years we spent together – scenes like a movie in fast forward pass through my mind and I smile to myself until the memory of finding out the cancer had returned assaults me. We were truly stunned. After, we realized that there had been some warnings, but mostly it was insidious. We had gone in for a routine scan, or so we thought. But the truth was there. Horrible tumors and then evidence of mutant cells in various organs. Initially we agreed to suggested treatment in an attempt to eradicate the bastard cells, only to be told that rather than improving, the cancer had only spread. I remember her calm, brave decision to stop treatment, her reasoning for doing so and my choice to love her enough to understand and eventually to love her enough to let her go. Tears continue to fall as I picture the ocean before us, the sand beneath us, and the smile on her lips the day she died in my arms while staring out at the ocean she loved. She wasn’t eager to go, but she left on her terms. For that I am so pleased. Moreover, the blessing is that we had time to leave nothing unsaid between us. I smile at that reality.

  Swiping at the tears on my cheeks, my gaze moves to our precious son picking grass under a tree near me oblivious to his father’s ramblings or tears. “I’m going to tell them about your lists and your reasons, sunshine, and encourage them to consider their own, just as you would have. I’m going to show them how you left me the biggest reason of all. I love you. Forever.”

  Thank you so much for reading, Give Me A Reason. This topic is close to my heart for several reasons and I hope that it touched your heart in some way. If you enjoyed Give Me A Reason, please consider leaving me a review. I would appreciate it so much. If you love enemy to lovers books, stay tuned for an excerpt from my novel, Broken Melody!

  “Oh my god,” my best friend Britt cries from her seat at the bar. “I think my ears are bleeding.”

  “Be nice,” I tell her despite trying to stifle my own laughter. Turning away from her, I try my best to ignore her distracting comments and po
ur a few drinks. She’s right though; the guy singing is pretty much…well…he’s awful. It’s even worse that he has absolutely no idea. He’s proudly giving it his all; he’s belting out a Maroon 5 song while swaying and hip jutting, likely thinking it adds to his performance. But, it doesn’t - not at all. The reaction of the crowd is mixed. Some are laughing, while some are not so discreetly making fun of him from their safe seats at their tables, but most are good-naturedly head bobbing to the music, despite his rendition. Others – I venture to say, those that have had the most to drink - are even cheering him on.

  God, I love it here. The people, the atmosphere, the music – it’s my jam. I can’t help but smile as I work.

  “Seriously,” Britt whines again, “isn’t this song over yet?”

  I giggle softly as I wipe down the bar. “You know, you could just leave,” I tease, “problem solved.”

  She rolls her large eyes making me laugh because I know that’s Britt speak for I’m not going anywhere. “You’d miss me,” she states matter-of-fact.

  No matter how many times I tell her that she really shouldn’t sit here and try to talk my head off while I’m working, she doesn’t care; she does it anyway. In truth however, I’m pretty sure my boss Dusty doesn’t mind it one bit. His constant flirting and joking with her is a definite indication. Plus, when she’s not here, he clearly notices – asking where she is and if she’s coming. He even called her adorable once. Yeah, he’s got it bad for her. Problem is, Britt doesn’t seem to notice him back. At least not in the way he’d prefer.

  Looking around the room while I prepare drink after drink as orders roll in from the waitresses, I see a lot of familiar faces. Friday and Saturday nights bring the crowd in here at The Hook. Discounted drinks, appetizers, and the best karaoke in town, in my opinion, make this the place to hang out for many. Maybe we’re all simple, easy to please, or maybe it’s being surrounded by others with the same interests - I’m not sure.

  “Hey, Sailor,” someone yells from across the room interrupting my thoughts.

  “Hey Brad, how’s it going?” I ask when I see one of our regular customers smiling flirtatiously while making his way to the bar. He’s cute, I think as I check out his smile and button up shirt. He’s too college preppy good boy to be my type, but he’s still nice to look at.

  “It will be better when you get up there. When is it your turn?” he asks gesturing to the stage. “I want to make sure I get a good seat.”

  Smiling, I shrug, “I’m not sure if I’ll sing tonight.”

  “Don’t listen to her, of course she is,” Dusty answers as he comes up behind me. “She still doesn’t realize that half of the people here come solely to listen to her.”

  “Whatever, Dusty, that’s not true at all.”

  Dusty rolls his eyes at me, pats me on the back, then looks at Brad, “See what I mean?”

  Brad nods, smiles, then turns to find a table while I’m distracted by Kylie, a waitress, rattling off another drink order. “Two vodka cranberry’s, three Miller Lite’s from the tap please, and a house margarita no salt.”

  “Got it,” I tell her and rush to make her drinks while also smiling at a patron that comes up to the bar and waits patiently to place his order.

  “Thanks, Sailor,” Kylie says and walks away balancing her drinks carefully on a tray at her shoulder.

  “That guy was cute,” Britt says at the same time I ask a customer, “What can I get you?” I shoot Britt a look telling her to shut it, knowing she’s wanting to talk about Brad. Focusing back on the man, I smile. I’ve never seen him before. I wonder which type he’ll be: is he going to be in and out for a drink; sit and stay a while; or have too much to drink and start telling me his life story. If I had to guess I’d say he’s going to be a sit and stay.

  “What have you got on tap?” he asks and I ramble off the beers until he interrupts to let me know which he’d like and orders two glasses. While I pour he looks around the room, “Busy night.”

  “Yeah, this is how it always is on Friday’s and Saturday’s. And it’s karaoke night which tends to bring in the crowd.”

  “So I hear. Rumor has it that you’ve got a great singer here. A woman. I’m told she brings in the crowd on your karaoke nights. Will she be singing tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell him looking at him curiously.

  “Do you know if she’s here right now?”

  My brow furrows, “I’m not sure.” I know he’s talking about me, even though admitting it to myself invokes a feeling of conceit that causes me to squirm a bit, but I have no idea who he is or why he would be interested in me. Maybe it’s nothing other than an interest in hearing me sing. But, I don’t know him, and I’m not comfortable telling him anything.

  “God, I hope so,” he says and I frown again, even more curious now.

  “Why’s that? Worried you might be wasting your time chasing a rumor?”

  He laughs softly, nods a thank you when I hand him his drink, and takes a sip before replying. “Something like that,” he says, then grabs the other beer along with his and disappears into the crowd.

  “I said,” Britt says once more, “he was cute.”

  “Who? Him?” I ask and point in the general direction of the disappearing customer.

  “Yeah, he was, too. But I’m talking about Brad the guy that was talking to you before. The guy that is clearly into you and was flirting.”

  “He is cute, I agree. You should definitely go chat him up. Like, right now. You two would make an adorable couple.”

  “God, Sailor, you’re so annoying,” she says with a small grin.

  “So are you! You know damn well he’s not my type. How long have you known me?”

  “That’s true. I mean, he’s probably super nice and would treat his girlfriend with respect. We wouldn’t want that.”

  “Ha. Ha.”

  “You know I’m right. You like a little bad with your good. Problem is, you always lean toward someone who has more bad than good. That’s why you keep getting your heart stomped on.”

  “You have to actually care to get your heart stomped on, Britt.”

  “You pretend you don’t care, but you do. I know you.”

  “Whatever, and besides, you are not one to talk. Let’s have this conversation later.”

  “No we won’t, because you’ll avoid it like always,” she says and thank god right then, Kyle a waiter comes up to me with another drink order.

  While I pour and mix - thanks to Britt - my mind wanders to my last couple boyfriends. The annoying thing is that she’s not wrong. It took me a long time to date once I moved here to California, but when I did, I was surprised by my apparent taste in men too, although given my past, it isn’t too surprising I suppose. My last boyfriend, Trevor, was totally hot. Tattoos for days, a cocky attitude, and he was amazing in bed. His moves in the bedroom made you endure the attitude. In full disclosure, I was willing to put up with him being so full himself in exchange for the orgasms he gave – because there were a lot. I was sporting a constant smile due to the continual work out my body was getting, until I found him in bed with another woman. And not just any bed – my bed. Clearly, I’m not the only one he liked delighting with his sexual prowess. Yeah, not a story I like to think about. It was ugly, there was crying, and screaming - his, not mine.

  “Totally thinking about Trevor aren’t you?” Britt asks and when I look at her she has a knowing smirk on her face. “It’s all over your face.”

  “Shut up,” I tell her with a laugh.

  Just as the crowd cheers for a woman that rocked everyone out to a fun 80s song, Dusty comes up behind me, “What are you going to sing tonight?”

  Turning to him, I cross my arms over my chest, “Who says I’m going to sing tonight?”

  “You can’t resist. In fact, I should make it part of your employment contract considering the crowd that you draw in, it would definitely work in my benefit.”

  “Great idea. Let me know how much
the raise will be to go along with that contract amendment.”

  Dusty smiles, “Deal. Now get up there.”

  “Alright, give me a minute to think about what I want to sing.”

  He nods, and I pour myself a drink while I think. I never imagined when I stumbled in here longing to escape my past, and start over, that I’d not only find a job that pays decently, but that I’d gain friends as well. I wanted to get lost in the crowd, drown in anonymity. Los Angeles seemed like the perfect place. Surrounded by actor and actress wannabe’s hoping to hit it big, I figured being a steady worker in a place that likely had a revolving staff would be perfect. I picked the wrong place, if that’s what I was hoping for, because The Hook is more like a home. Dusty the owner is great. He cares about his employees; he pays us well, treats us fair, and is kind with our hours. Turnover is low unless someone actually makes it in this dream bursting town. Plus, the bar staff has all been fantastic – not an asshole in the bunch. Add that to the large number of regulars that come in and it’s a damn family. The exact opposite of the anonymity I was looking for a few years ago, but I’m not complaining.

  I never intended to sing on karaoke nights. One hot summer night when we first added it to our weekend line up it was quiet in here, which was odd considering our prime location in downtown Hollywood. Britt stumbled in and ordered a whiskey neat. After she downed the first, she lifted her finger indicating another. It was obvious she was in distress. Red, puffy eyes, she was clearly drinking her feelings, or at least trying her best to drown them. Two drinks in, she started talking. A visit to her brother in a town called Hope Falls turned into her meeting a great guy. She fell for him hard in a really short time, would have liked to stay even, but he was just coming out of a relationship and had his own business, and she had a blossoming clientele here working as a hair stylist. What started out as quiet drinking and sniffing quickly turned into a full on play-by-play recitation. Britt seemed pitiful and her story was sad. So, to make her smile and hopefully feel better, I went up on stage and dedicated an iconic break up song to her. One song went into another and soon the whole staff was cheering me on and begging for yet another. It became a thing each night we had karaoke. At some point I’d get up on stage. Dusty opened the doors and made a big sign that sat on the sidewalk in front of the bar and people would trickle in.