by Rebecca Shea
For the past four weeks I’ve sent Jess countless e-mails and text messages, and I have gotten nothing in return. I never leave my phone; it’s attached to my hand. Every time there is a ping, or a chime, or a ring, my heart stops, hoping she’ll have finally decided to respond to me, to provide me answers, a glimmer of hope, a ‘fuck-off,’ something—anything. It’s the silence that is killing me.
I walked away from her four weeks ago because that’s what she wanted; that’s what she asked me to do. A piece of me died that day. I was never a sap or believed in true love and fate and all that bullshit, until I lost her. I know I’m only half alive—half functioning. I’d do anything she asked of me, anything, including walking away, if that is what she wanted—and it was.
For most of the last month, I’ve stayed with Luke because I can’t bear to be across the street from her, knowing I can’t walk over to check on her, kiss her, hold her, love her, and protect her. I lie in bed, every night, and I’m assaulted with the memories of us. Everything good in my life was Jessica. She made me want to be a better man, a better boyfriend, a better person. She made me think of marriage and family, and goals, where most of my friends were thinking about the next chick they were going to bang.
The last time I saw her was two weeks ago. I stopped by Mom and Dad’s to pick up a few things to bring to Luke’s apartment. Tossing my bag in my truck, I didn’t expect to see her car pulling into her driveway. It froze me. Literally. Everything in me stopped as I watched her step out of her car and lean her head back, tilting her face up to the sky. I could see her eyes were closed, and I wondered in that moment what she was thinking, what she was feeling. I stood there watching her, and for a moment, she looked peaceful, young, and innocent, not hurt, scared, and broken.
She was pale, much lighter than I’ve ever seen her and she looked like she had lost a lot of weight. Her normal beautiful, curvy frame was void of any shape, stiff, thin, and bony. Regardless, she was still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I didn’t expect her to turn and look at me, to catch me staring at her. With a small flick of her wrist, she gave me a forced wave and a stiff, half-hearted smile. I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat when I realized that we’d come to a place where she wouldn’t talk to me, and smiles and waves were forced.
Clenching my fists, anger and hurt coursed through my veins, yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but stand and watch her. To just see her, to know that she was ok, was a relief. I watched her slowly move up the steps of her patio and into her house, watching her shut the front door. I left when I knew she was safely inside, jumping into my truck I drive to Luke’s apartment, my sanctuary as of late.
I’ve spent the last few weeks working as much as I can. Picking up extra overtime shifts, and covering for guys who want an extra day off. Work has been my escape. Ironic, that is exactly what Chief is doing. I have to force myself to not ask him about Jess. I keep work strictly professional and only speak to him about work related matters. Chief spends as much time here as I do, and it pains me to know that she is alone at home dealing with her pain. I want nothing more than to call her, to hear her voice, but she has made it clear she doesn’t want to hear from me. So two weeks ago, I stopped reaching out to her.
I’m off this weekend, and I plan to move the rest of my stuff from Mom and Dad’s over to Luke’s apartment. Luke convinced me that it may do me well to move in with him, to distance myself from Jess, and I reluctantly agreed. Pulling into the visitor space at Luke’s apartment complex, I throw my truck in park and just sit, contemplating this next step in my life—moving in with my brother. I was saving to buy Jess a ring and a house, and here I sit, in the parking lot of my brother’s apartment. I feel my anger rise as I think about how in a matter of minutes, one run in the park, has changed the course of my plans—of our plans, forever.
Minutes have passed when I hear a tap on my window. Catching me off guard, I turn to see Luke. Wondering how long he’s been there, I grab my bag off of the passenger seat and open my door, sliding down onto the pavement.
Luke must see the despair in my eyes. “You okay, man?” he asks quietly with a pat on my shoulder. I nod and offer the best lie that I can.
“Yep,” Luke sighs. I know he wants to say something, but he refrains. I’m on edge, and he can tell.
“Hey, Ava invited a few people over to Mom and Dad’s tonight, like old times.” he says. Everyone is trying to move forward as we’ve all been stuck in a holding pattern for the last month. “It would be good for you to…you know… take your mind off things for a while.”
“Yeah, I’ll stop by,” I say, knowing damn well I’m not in the mood to socialize. Everyone has been worried about me. Ava sends me endless text messages, Mom calls me at least three times a day, and Luke is always just watching me. The guys from the station, and even the couple of girls that work there, have been more than tolerant of my mood swings. They’ve been great in giving me space to deal with everything that has happened.
“I invited Heather. She’s off tonight,” Luke says shyly. He’s had a crush on Heather for months now.
“Good,” I say, realizing I have a small smile on my face. I think this is the first time I’ve smiled in weeks. “Play it cool, my man…play it cool.” I smirk. Where I was graced with social skills, Luke was inherently quieter. Luke laughs a big laugh.
“That’s the plan, G. Hey, I’m heading to the gym. Be showered and ready to go, and I’ll swing by to pick you up around seven.”
“Sounds good. See you in a bit.”
I shower and move things around my new room, making space for the last few belongings I plan to bring over this weekend. My phone pings, and as usual, I jump to grab it, hoping the message is from Jess, but it’s a text from Ava.
Gabe, please promise me you’ll come over tonight.
I’ll be there, sis.
Good. I love you.
Love you too.
Luke picks me up promptly at seven o’clock as he said he would.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
Nodding my head, I say, “Yeah, it’s just the first time since everything happened that we’ve had one of these, so I don’t know what to expect, or think.”
“It’ll be fine. Just try to enjoy yourself,” he reassures me.
Ava texted us and said there were a few more people coming than we’re normally used to, which also has me a bit anxious. As we park in Mom and Dad’s driveway, I catch a glimpse of light peeking out of Jess’ bedroom window. The entire house is dark, except for her bedroom. I know Chief is at the station, and all I want to do is walk over there and force her to talk to me. Luke sits quietly with me while I stare at her window.
“Let’s go have a beer man,” he says quietly.
Grabbing the cases of beer Luke brought, we walk through the side door that opens into the kitchen. Mom is at her usual perch, whipping up food while, Dad is asleep in his recliner. Through the glass patio door, I can see that there are quite a few people in the backyard, and I’m wondering who Ava invited.
“Hi, Ma,” I say, walking over and placing a kiss on her cheek. She’s made her homemade guacamole and is arranging chips and salsa onto a large platter.
“Ah, Mijo, I’m so glad you came.” She flashes me the warmest smile. I’ve been so caught up in my own misery that I’ve distanced myself from the people who care about me and love me, and a wave of guilt runs through me. Her eyes shine with concern as she leans into me and pulls me into a hug.
“Carry this platter out back for me, will you please?” she asks, breaking our hug.
“Ma, we don’t come over here for you to cook for us, you know.”
“I know, Mijo, I love doing it though. I love when all my kids are here.” Her voice cracks slightly, and I know she’s missing Jess as much as Ava and I are.
Carrying the tray of chips, salsa, and guacamole outside, I set it on the large patio table where an asso
rtment of other snacks has been placed. Standing back, I survey who is here, wishing that Jess were floating around the crowd, talking to everyone like she used to do. I loved watching her move from group to group, talking to everyone and making everyone feel welcome. Shaking that thought, I locate the cooler and grab myself a bottle of Dos Equis.
“What’s up man?” Adrian, Ava’s boyfriend, fist bumps me.
“Not much. Finally off for the weekend,” I say, grabbing the bottle opener. Popping the top, I tilt the bottle to my lips and let the cold crisp beer slide down my throat. In two swallows I finish half the bottle.
“Good to see you,” he says, passing by me and heading into the house. Looking around at the people in my backyard, I see Ava talking with a small group of girls, they are all leaned into their small circling, whispering and giggling. I see Luke chatting with Heather, the EMT from work, and I smile. Grabbing another beer, I open it and make my way over to see how he is handling his crush on Heather before Max stops me.
“Hey Gabe.”
“What’s up?” I’m really not in the mood to deal with these punks, but I know Max was close to Jess, and maybe he’s heard from her.
“Not much. Just wanted to say ‘hi,’ and was wondering if you’ve heard from Jess. She won’t return my calls or texts.”
“Same here,” I snap at him, taking a sip on the new beer in my hand.
“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just, um, worried.”
“Look, if anyone hears anything, I’ll have Ava call you, all right?”
I feel guilty for snapping at him. It’s clear that everyone cares about her and she isn’t talking to anyone. With a nod, he turns to walk away.
“Hey, Max,” I call after him.
“Yeah.” He stops and turns around but makes no attempt to walk back toward me.
“If you happen to hear from her first, will you please let me know?”
With a tight smile he nods again. “You know I will,” he says before turning to walk back to the small group gathered by the fire pit.
It’s hard to believe that two short weeks ago I agreed to move myself across the country for an internship, leaving behind the few things in my life that I have ever loved. It didn’t take much thought for me, honestly. Gabe deserves better than me, at least better than the ‘damaged me’. He deserves someone who isn’t so damaged, someone that is whole and can love him without the insecurities I have, that I will probably always have.
I know that I will never love anyone the way I love him, ever. Maybe I’m making irrational and impulsive life decisions right now by pushing Gabe away, and moving from the only family I have ever known, but this is what I have to do, for him and for me.
I’m planning to leave early in the morning. Hopefully, I can slip out of town unnoticed. Not that anyone would notice I’m gone anyway, aside from the Garcia’s, who I haven’t seen in over a month.
Stretching a piece of packing tape over the last box, I seal it up and push it away with my feet. I lean back against my bed, pulling my knees to my chest, and take in the sight of my bedroom. I’ve spent more time in this room the last three weeks than I have in all of the last fourteen years. The light pink walls are faded and in need of new paint. The hardwood floor could stand a good cleaning and polish. As of late this room has been my haven, and a small part of me is sad to leave the comfort of its confines.
Grabbing the small blue and white plaid keepsake box, I pop the lid off. I know I’m torturing myself, but maybe it will be cathartic, a sort of symbolism to my fresh start. Rummaging through the contents, I can’t help but smile and tear up at the memories one small box can hold. Ticket stubs to the Train concert Gabe and I went to a couple of months ago, pictures from Santa Barbara, notes he had hidden in my backpack, and the ring he had given me for Christmas; a promise to our future. I shoved the ring in the box the day I asked him to let me go.
Tears fall down my cheeks as I shuffle through all the pieces of my life that mean so much to me and shove them back into the box, except for the ring. Standing up, I unclasp the white gold delicate chain that hangs around my neck with a small diamond cross and slide the ring onto it. Reaching around my neck, I clasp the necklace and tuck the cross and ring under my t-shirt. I slide my hand to my chest, and feel the cross and ring beneath the palm of my hand. Pressing it against my heart, I know that is where Gabe will be forever.
I know I can’t leave without saying ‘goodbye’ to Angelica and John. It’s been killing me all week, knowing I was going to have to talk to them. I haven’t seen them since before I went for that run. Glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand, I see that it’s almost eight o’clock. Mustering up the courage, I grab my jacket and throw it on over my t-shirt and slide my feet into a pair of Toms. I look at myself in the full-length mirror that hangs on my bedroom wall and take note of what I look like—I’m a mess. I’m just going to go say ‘goodbye,’ and I’m making it fast, so this will have to do.
Locking the door behind me, I step down the stairs from my porch, stopping suddenly when I see the street lined with cars. They haven’t had a get together in months. My chest tightens as my eyes scan the cars and I see Ava’s, Adrian’s, and Luke’s, along with a few others I don’t recognize. As much as I want to see Gabe, I don’t think I have the strength, and my anxiety lessens slightly when I don’t see his truck parked in the driveway, or on the street.
Shuffling across the street, I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I’m so nervous and scared, and for the first time since I decided to leave, a wave of nausea overcomes me. Standing at the front door, I raise my hand and knock lightly. I think to myself that if I knock lightly enough, maybe they won’t hear me. I can then leave knowing that I tried, but was unsuccessful in seeing them. I owe them more than a half-hearted attempt though, so I knock again, this time a bit harder. It seems so weird to knock on the door of a home that was basically mine for over fourteen years. Where I could walk in anytime unannounced, it was my home.
The door cracks open slightly and there stands John with a look of disbelief on his face. A small smile washes over his face as the door opens wider, and he pulls me into the house and into his arms, squeezing me tightly. Pulling my hands out from my pockets, I wrap my arms around him in return. This is the first real touch I’ve encountered in weeks. Tears fill my eyes and a lump forms in my throat.
“Mija, we’ve missed you,” he says, tightening his squeeze. It’s a comforting embrace, and hearing John call me ‘Mija’ warms my heart. They have always considered me their daughter and have never treated me as anything less.
“I’ve missed you too,” I choke out, as a tear slips from the corner of my eye. Pulling out of John’s strong arms, I wipe my cheeks with my fingers and take a deep breath to calm myself.
“Sit down, please.” John motions to the couch.
“I can’t,” I say, dropping my eyes to the floor. “I just came to say goodbye.” That lump is back, stuck in the back of my throat, stopping me from saying anything further.
“Goodbye?” he questions me.
I nod my head in short, fast movements. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I’ve taken an internship on the East Coast,” I say, my hands fidgeting. I’ve always looked to him for guidance and support, and here I am, just telling him what I’m doing.
He stands, looking at me as he nods his heads slowly, running a hand over his face. Looking up, I notice Angelica standing in the entryway between the living room and kitchen. She’s wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
“Why so far away?” she questions me as she walks towards me, closing the distance between us.
Shrugging my shoulders, I can feel my chin quiver as I force the words, “I just have too.” Not able to say anything else, the tears overtake me again and Angelica is now pulling me into a hug.
“Mija, please,” she begs, hugging me and rubbing my back. “We are here for you. All of us.” I know that she is implying Gabe as well when she says ‘al
l of us.’
“I know,” I whisper back.
“Then stay. Let us help you,” she pleads with a whisper in my ear.
“I can’t. I have to do this,” I say, trying to pull out of her arms. She won’t let go, and her hands are now holding my upper arms. Running her eyes over me from head to toe, she studies every inch of me as if it’s the last time she’ll see me, and it very well may be.
“When is the last time you ate? You look too skinny,” she says, releasing my arms. She offers me a kind smile, and a gentle kiss to my cheek before she turns and heads into the kitchen.
“I really should go,” I whisper to John. Standing there, with his arms at his side, he nods his head and looks back towards the kitchen.
“There are a few folks out back who would be really disappointed if they didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’ to you.” I swallow hard, knowing who he means. “They’ve been worried sick about you. You stopped taking their calls and returning their text messages. I hope you will at least go say ‘goodbye’ to them.”
I know I owe them this. At the very minimum, I owe my best friend, my sister a ‘goodbye’. I nod my head in agreement and move slowly towards the kitchen to the patio door. Just as I’m almost out of the living room, John’s words stop me. “You know you can always come home to us. We will always be here for you.”
Looking over my shoulder at the man who was more of a dad to me than my own, I offer him a small smile. “Thank you,” I say as I walk into the kitchen. There stands Angelica at the kitchen sink, her hands rested on the counter as she stares through the window into the dark back yard. I’m met with the most mouthwatering aromas, as I stand there and watch her. Everything I ate growing up with the Garcia’s was spread across the counters: enchiladas, tacos, rice, beans. My stomach immediately growls in hunger but stops quickly when I see the patio door and realize I have to walk out back and say ‘goodbye’ to Ava.
