by Hart, A.
“Perfect.” Emerson smiled.
“See? No men required,” Sarah said with a fist pump in the air.
After we had inhaled half our food, I looked up at Sarah. “What’s the deal with Travis?”
She practically choked on her burrito. She took a drink and cleared her throat. “What about him?”
I smiled. “Seriously, S? You are hot and cold with him, and then you looked like you might die if I called him for help.”
She shook her head and took another sip, her face looking a little distraught. “I don’t mind him one second, and then I want to choke him. It’s his fault, not mine.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.”
Emerson’s eyes trailed back from Sarah to me as she quietly ate. After a few moments of silence, Sarah cleared her throat “So, what’s up with you and Travis?” She made sure to put an emphasis on the word ‘you’. I noticed that Emerson shot Sarah a sideways look, and Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Strange.
“Um, me and Travis?” I asked.
Emerson giggled and chimed in. “Um, yeah. You and Travis.”
Genuinely confused, I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. We are friends.”
Sarah snorted to herself and shifted again. Emerson shot her another look and then smiled. “You sure about that?” Emerson had one eyebrow raised and a smile plastered on her face as she stared at me uncomfortably.
“Um, yeah. I’m sure,” I said, feeling a little insecure about my answer.
“Hmmm.” Emerson responded. “It just seems like you guys spend a lot of time together and you seem . . . well, I don’t know. You seem . . . ”
She paused, and Sarah sat up and finished her thought for her. “Like a couple.”
I laughed this time, because we were so far from that. Weren’t we? I didn’t even have any feelings for him. Not like that, anyway, even if I wished I did. I didn’t. Plus, he had just told me yesterday that he didn’t like me. “Umm no, we are not a couple. I don’t feel that way for him, and he doesn’t feel that way for me.”
Sarah sat up at the last statement and cleared her throat, clearly trying to sound cool and collected. “Did he tell you that?”
She took a bite of her burrito and I nodded my head. “Like, yesterday.” I smiled, realizing why she was so hot and cold with him. “You like Travis!” I shouted.
Emerson laughed loudly, and Sarah shot her a look so angry I thought her eyes would pop out of her head. I giggled. Sarah fidgeted with her plate a little. “I . . . No, I . . . Ugh.” Her face was bright red and she turned back to face forward.
I smiled wider, pointing at her. “Wait a minute—that’s what took you so long this morning to get ready? You were trying to look good for him. Then why didn’t you want me to call him?” I asked curiously, with my brows raised at Sarah.
She sighed and dusted off her hands before wiping her face. “We hooked up—like, maybe once, okay—and I don’t know, I don’t want to see him, but if I run into him I . . . I don’t know. I guess I want to look good.”
I stood up and tucked my chair in, smiling. “What?!” I asked with excitement. “When did you guys hook up? And what does ‘maybe once’ mean?”
I grabbed my plate and then theirs. As I began walking to the kitchen to set the plates in the sink, I saw Emerson smile. “At our wedding.”
I thought for a second as I walked back into the dining area, and then—ah-ha! Well, that made a lot of sense now that I thought back on that night. I didn’t miss the fact that Sarah didn’t answer my question about what “maybe once” meant. The girls both stood to continue our work.
I laughed. “Wow. Well, I had no idea. All this time? Jeez. Way to be discrete.”
I heard Sarah mumble something under her breath. I could have sworn she said, “Just how Travis likes me.” I ignored it, and she began working on chair number four.
After a couple of hours, the place looked nice and everything was in its place. I was admiring my little apartment when Emerson walked out, carrying a large box. Sarah followed with a matching one in her arms. My heart jumped, and my throat started to close. I knew the boxes were here, but I chose to ignore them. I had shoved them deep in my closet and was hoping to just not look at them . . . ever.
In a soft voice, Emerson asked, “Meg . . . What do you want to do with all his clothes?”
I swallowed hard and avoided looking in their eyes. I couldn’t let them see how broken I still was. I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I stood for a second, just staring at the boxes.
“We will just put them back, Meg. You can decide later,” Sarah said kindly.
As they began to turn back to the room, I stopped them with my hand. “No. No, it’s been almost three years. I can’t . . . I can’t keep pretending like he’ll need those.” Willing the tears not to fall, I looked into Emerson’s eyes and she nodded. “I need to start acting like he is never coming home, because . . . because . . . ”
I began to choke on my words, but thankfully Sarah was kind and finished my sentence for me with a low whisper. “He’s not.”
I nodded, holding back the tears that were begging to leave my eyes. “I can donate them to a good cause. I don’t mind doing it,” Emerson said quietly.
I nodded again and swallowed back my tears. I would not do this anymore. It was time. After Emerson and Sarah nodded solemnly, I gave them a slight smile and decided to share my inner battle with them with two simple words. “It’s time.”
Sarah nodded weakly. “Good for you, girl.”
Chapter Four
Megan
It had been five days since Emerson and Sarah had helped me get Charlotte and me settled into our new place. We had seen Travis almost every day for at least one meal, and he had taken Charlotte to the park down the street a couple of times. We had also spent time with Sarah and Emerson, along with Jules. It was starting to feel more like home each day. Being surrounded by people whom I adored was helping with that.
I sat on Jules’s couch, the very couch that Cal had slept on the night before we buried Charles, the night he brought me Charles’s last letter. The words flashed through my mind, as they often did when I was missing him. I will always love you. You can always love me, you don’t have to stop, but please, please, Megan. Promise, promise me that you will love again. You are far too good at it not to. I sighed, and then I thought about the fortune on the top of my coffee cup the other day. Love will find you. But maybe I didn’t want it to. I didn’t want to love anyone else. The only other guy I loved before Charles had been my childhood best friend, SJ, and I had left him in the worst way. Pretty sure he would never want to see me again. Maybe not loving anyone again would be better. Maybe it would be less painful. Both of my experiences with love were worthy of a bloodcurdling scream—that kind of painful.
It was only five days before the first day of school. I had gone into my classroom twice to work on things, but I still had a lot to do. Currently, I was surrounded by everyone who loved Charles. This played a large part in why I was distracted by my late husband’s words. Travis sat down next to me with Charlotte in one hand and pumpkin pie in the other. It was late summer, so usually you wouldn’t expect pumpkin pie. However, as I said, Travis’s family owned the largest pumpkin farm in northern California. They canned their leftover pumpkin each year and also froze pies. In fact, you could buy their frozen baked goods and canned pumpkin or fruit year round at the local grocery store, Big Mike’s. The Farmer family pies were legendary, so at least one was always expected at any family event or party. Today, Jules was throwing a welcome back party for Charlotte, Travis and me.
I smiled over at my daughter, who was shoveling the pie in her small mouth. I had to hold back a slight gag at an unfortunate memory I had with pumpkin pie. I also had to suppress the automatic smile that came to my lips at the memory. It was the unfortunate night that I ate two pumpkin pies by myself and had been given the nickname of Pumpkin Girl by my best friend, SJ. We had been seven at the
time, and as we got older it became just Pumpkin. It was a name I hadn’t been called in a long time, and although part of me longed to hear it, the other part of me knew why I never would. I cleared my throat, shook my head and focused on my little girl.
Then I laughed as I watched Charlotte rabidly force even more pie into her mouth with her fork. “Jeez, kiddo, slow down.”
I laughed as I took a bite of my own pie, which was apple instead. It was not the famous Farmer pie, but it was still delicious. “That’s her third piece, Travis. She’s going to be up all night.”
He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”
I shook my head. “Seriously? You’re not the one who has to stay up with her.” I was finding that being angry with Travis made it easier to forget about the two men that haunted me, Charles and SJ. Being mad at Travis always made life easier. I think he knew it too, because he often let me. Travis’s face turned serious and his voice lowered. “Let me stay the night and I’ll stay up with her.” I almost dropped my pie.
Travis must have forgotten that my daughter was currently a parrot, and there was absolutely no whisper quiet enough to escape her super spy ears because she began yelling, “Yay, Uncky Travey stay night with me! Yay Yay Yay!” All with a mouth full of pie, of course.
I looked around at not only all of Charles’s family, but also all of Travis’ family, along with our friends. I don’t know if Travis felt Sarah’s daggers darting at us in the form of her glare, but I sure did. I didn’t want to screw up my friendship with her. I adored her. I needed her to distract me from my haunting thoughts. And she and Travis clearly had something going on, or at least she had feelings for him. The last thing I needed was her thinking that her statements about Travis and me seeming like a couple were valid, because they weren’t! Damn it, Travis.
I cleared my throat and stood up, grabbing the now empty plate from Charlotte’s hands. She frowned at me. “Hey baby, go play with your cousins,” I said, and that made her frown turn to a grin.
She jumped off of Travis’s lap. “Yup, I go play. Bye bye.” She ran over to her slightly younger cousin, Connor, and grabbed his hand. I laughed and then stopped when I saw Travis looking at me. I cleared my throat and looked away from him. I walked into the kitchen and not only could I feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I could feel Travis following me.
I turned around, and of course he was right behind me. “Hey you okay?” he asked quietly.
I could feel my cheeks heat up, and I knew they were bright red. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I whispered. “Let’s talk later . . . when everyone isn’t staring at us.”
He laughed and then not so quietly said, “Oh, come on. We’re all family, right guys?”
Everyone around the room laughed. “Yup.” And “Yes.” were heard from all over.
Then Sarah’s sarcastic “Sure we are.” Stung my ears. Great.
I gritted my teeth and quietly ground out, “Travis, I swear . . . I’m going to punch you where you don’t want me to.” The smile faded from his face because I’m certain he knew I was telling the truth. He backed up and I walked down the hall to the bathroom.
A little while later, we pulled up to the apartment in Travis’s truck. I jumped out, and before I could get to the back seat, Travis was already gently unbuckling Charlotte and laying her sleepy head on his shoulder. I glared at him. “Travis, you are not staying the night.”
He laughed. “You said she would be up all night. She looks and feels pretty asleep to me.”
I glared again and let out a breath. “That’s because she is in a sugar coma, but she will wake up tonight, either with a tummy ache or with massive amounts of random energy.”
He shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the stairs. “Then I’ll stay the night and take care of her since I’m the one who caused it.”
I blew out a breath of frustration. “Fine, but you’re sleeping on the floor.” He nodded his head. “I’m serious, Trav.”
He smiled back at me with his boyish grin, which I knew worked on other girls, but not on me. “I know.”
I laid in bed, which, because it was a one-bedroom and I gave it to Charlotte, was a pull-out couch in the living room. Usually I had no problem with this, except tonight I was extremely aware of my late husband’s half-naked best friend, who was sleeping maybe ten feet away on the floor in my hall. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard Charlotte start moaning. I shot up and began getting up when I heard Travis’s soft whisper on the baby monitor.
“Lotte, it’s okay baby girl, I’m here.” I sat back down and listened. “What’s wrong? Your tummy hurts? I’m sorry, Princess. Uncky Travey shouldn’t have let you eat so much pie. Yes, bad Uncky.” I giggled, guessing at what she was most likely saying back to him. “I’ll get you some water and then how about I rub your tummy?” The next thing I heard was the sink turn on in the kitchen.
I laid down and let my thoughts drift to where they always did at night. Charles laid next to me and gently caressed my cheek. I leaned into him and smiled at how loved I felt. If only these thoughts, these memories, could be real. I miss you so much, Charles. So much.
Suddenly, I felt the bed dip and I was surrounded by warmth. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see Travis spooning me. His arm was around my waist, just like Charles used to hold me. Except with Travis, this felt purely platonic. I looked up into Travis’s eyes in the soft light of the nightlight by my bed. His hazel eyes looked heavy and concerned. He gently wiped a tear from my cheek, and my hand flew to my face. I was crying? I had no idea.
“Lotte’s fast asleep . . . but you must’ve had a nightmare. You’ve been crying for a while. I couldn’t take it anymore. Let me hold you, please?” I nodded my head and laid back down.
Travis was warm and soft. It was nice to be held again, but God did I miss the passion that usually followed this. As if he read my mind, Travis gently ran his fingers across my arm. I didn’t feel any sense of desire but I liked his comforting touch. I felt a small, gentle, wet kiss on my neck and I lifted my chin back. Travis’s hand went from my hip to sprawl out on my stomach as he rained kisses on my neck. Suddenly, he flipped me over and after staring into my eyes, he claimed my mouth with his. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about this since I had no desire, but at the same time, I had no desire to stop him either. I was in a weird limbo. I had never been with anyone but Charles, and I had never kissed anyone I didn’t love until Travis. Is this what it felt like when people had one night stands with people they didn’t care about? Because, God, were they missing out.
As quickly as his lips were on mine, they were off again. Travis shot up and flew off the bed. I sat up a little and looked up at him, feeling panicked that something was wrong. “What?” Travis ran his fingers through his hair as he paced in a small circle. “Travis,” I said low.
He shook his head and then sat next to me on the bed. “Meg, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t—we shouldn’t have . . . ”
I sighed loudly, letting out my frustration. “Yeah, I know.” And then I felt a sudden pain of guilt remembering my realization that Sarah had feelings for Travis. Jeez, Megan, get a hold of yourself.
Travis sighed as he took my hand in his. “You deserve more. Charles would want you to have more. You haven’t been with anyone since Charles, and the next time should be with . . . your next husband, and I—I just don’t think that’s me.”
In response to my silence, Travis pulled his hand from mine and ran it over his face. I gently put my hand on his and placed it on my lap. “Maybe not,” I said, “but I still care for you and you care for me.” He nodded. “Okay, then just lay here with me?” He gave me a hard glare. I rolled my eyes and smiled up at him. “Lay down and I’ll just lay on your chest. Please?” Travis nodded again and did as I asked. I fell into an easy sleep with him holding me.
Chapter Five
Megan
It was Sunday, and our days were going by quickly. I would be starting work before I knew it, and I was looking forward to the dis
traction from my thoughts. I buttoned up my white, short-sleeve blouse and then pulled on my brown slacks. I slipped my checkered flats onto my feet and adjusted my hair in the mirror. I took a deep breath and willed myself to be strong. It was the first Sunday that I was going back to church. Not just any Church, but Charles’s church, the one he grew up in, the one where everyone knew him well. I talked Travis into taking me to Charles’s gravestone after the service. I needed to see it. I needed the closure. My hands shook and my throat felt dry. I was consumed with a concoction of emotions.
I felt like I was growing closer with Charles at the same time that I was letting go of him. It was a strange feeling, but it felt right. It felt like I was finally alive again and it was time. I listened to Lotte playing dolls in her room and smiled at myself. Her voice was a small reminder of the ways Charles still lived.
I hadn’t been back to the church or the gravestone since the day I buried my husband, but today was the day. Travis came back every year on Charles’s birthday, which was right after Thanksgiving, and visited his grave stone. He would always put me on speakerphone when he did, and I would just sit in silence. This wouldn’t be like that. I wouldn’t be far away, capable of pretending like it never happened. Yes, today was the day. Today I was going to face a fear of mine, one that had already come to life but hadn’t yet been fully real. I was going to face the fact that Charles wasn’t, nor would he ever, be physically here with me.
Today, I would visit the stone that stood above the empty grave and I would face the reality head-on for the first time in three years. Charles wasn’t in the ground. His bones may be, but he wasn’t. I couldn’t ever believe that. I had never been a very spiritual person, not until I met Charles. Charles’s love made me see how God’s love could be real. His presence made me feel God’s presence. This is why I couldn’t and wouldn’t believe that when Charles’s body quit his soul quit too. It was too strong to ever do that. So today I would let go of the thought of Charles physically being here and I would cling onto the hope that somehow he was all around me.
