by B. A. Wolfe
If this were the moment I expected we would have, his arm would be on my back, telling me he was fine and not to worry. My tears fell harder. I worried about him so much; not a day went by when I didn’t—from the moment he was born and I held him on the couch with my mom beside me until the day we found out he was sick, and all the times leading to now. Worry and hope for him were all I had in me.
“It should’ve been me, Jase. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this. You shouldn’t be gone. It-It should’ve always been me,” I wept.
I lifted my head, his hand still in mine, and looked at his face one last time. “I love you, man. I love you so fucking much. You’ll always be my brother no matter where you are.”
That was the end of me. Every tear poured out like a monsoon. It wouldn’t stop. I cried for my parents who’d lost their baby boy. For myself, who wouldn’t have a brother for a pen pal anymore, and for the misery of having to live the rest of my life without him. Every holiday, birthday, text message, phone call, and letter was no more.
Ceased.
Done.
Gone.
And finally, I cried for my brother, who wouldn’t get to see another sunrise or sunset ever again, and for how shitty the world would be without that selfless man in it.
My insides were like a black, empty hole—massive, dark, and in a galaxy alone. I laid my brother’s hand down, snug against his body, and took a step away from his bed. “I love you, Jase.”
The little two-seat sofa in the waiting room was hard and uncomfortable, but away from everyone else. I grabbed the arm of the first nurse I saw. “Excuse me.” My voice sounded shredded. Her alarmed eyes locked on mine. “My brother said he mailed a letter. Do you still have it? Did you mail it? I need that letter.”
“Sir, calm down,” she said, wiggling her arm from my grip. Calm down? Did she even have a clue?
“It’s really important I have this letter. Can you help me find it?” I asked, trying to sound less frantic and more ‘calm.’
She nodded as if she knew exactly what I was talking about. Finally. “I believe the nurse who had it was Rhonda. She mentioned a letter.”
“Oh, thank God,” I said, a sigh of relief escaping me. “Can you help me get it? I need it.”
“Your brother’s letter was picked up by the mailman an hour ago. I’m so sorry.” Her expression didn’t seem as regretful as I felt.
My face slackened at her words. It was the last thing he touched, the last thing he had for me. If there was anything I needed the most at this moment, it was that damn letter. My neck and jaw muscles tightened as I watched the nurse in front of me. Her face was clean of tears and her body was missing the dagger in her chest.
I needed out, now. The anger was too much to battle in public. I needed the freedom to unleash without an audience.
“Are you going to be all right, sir? Should I call someone over here for you?”
I shook my head and stormed to the elevator. I had to leave, run, and never look back. I needed to grieve and drown my sorrows. I needed something to burn worse than the pain in my chest, to take away the hurt before I dug myself into a hole that I would never ever come out of.
Dan
A FEW LONELY AND agonizing days passed. I didn’t go back to Denver after my brother died. I drove to my parents’ and drank the pain away. Whiskey replaced the burn in my aching chest. My throat was raw and my eyes puffier than I’d like to admit. I locked myself inside Jase’s room for three days, keeping everything the way he’d left it¸ including his mystery girl’s luggage, stacked in the corner. The manly heart I wished I possessed broke at the thought of everyone who’d lost Jase, including her.
They say time heals all wounds. Well, time was my enemy. It always had been. It was the demon that played with my emotions non-stop. Causing me anxiety about the length of time I’d have with my brother—always making me wish for more of it—and then hating it for cutting the time he should’ve had short. Fuck it.
By the fourth day, it was here—time for the big brother he always looked up to, to get a grip. He had to take a shower, brush his whiskey stained teeth, dress in the suit he always knew he was going to have to wear someday, and be a man. It wasn’t going to be easy. Fuck no. It was going to be the hardest thing next to saying goodbye at the hospital, but it had to be done.
After a long shower, the thudding of my racing heart was the only thing I heard until a knock on the bathroom door startled me.
I cracked the door.
“We’re leaving in fifteen minutes, son.”
I nodded. My dad looked rough, as if he were fighting hard to keep himself together. I knew they weren’t holding up well either, but the house had bustled with footsteps throughout the days from people stopping by.
Standing, shaking hands, saying ‘thank you’ as well-wishers shared their condolences, and masking my face with a tight-lipped smile wore on me. I didn’t know how much more a man could take. My father stood less than tall next to my weak, sobbing mother, who was clutching my arm as each person who headed our way broke her a little more.
I nodded to my dad and motioned to my mother, ready to excuse myself. He cradled her limp form into his side, freeing me. Strolling through the grass, I stopped as I approached the ‘set-up.’ It was grim; nothing about it screamed Jase. Instead, it all shouted misery. Several minutes passed, my thoughts all-consuming when the screams of a frantic girl brought me back to reality. Her body shaking, her fists in the air, ready to hammer away on the smooth casket in front of her.
Within seconds, my arms wrapped around her trembling body and I held her.
“Let me go!”
Her scream rattled through her body as she fought against my grip, only making me hug her against my chest even tighter. “Shhh,” I whispered, trying to calm her.
But she fought back, crying and shouting again. “No! He has to answer or he’ll lose his turn.”
I kept my embrace strong, hugging her close, not letting her go. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.” Her body that was once shuddering took a slow deep breath and finally exhaled the same. She filled her lungs again and I loosened my arms around her.
“That’s it. Just breathe. You’re okay,” I said, my mouth close to her ear, her hair brushing against my cheek.
The world around us became invisible and it was like nothing else existed. We weren’t standing next to a black casket that sheltered my brother’s body. It was just the two of us, learning how to breathe again. Each steady inhale she took, I followed suit. She turned, our eyes locked, and something inside her seemed to shift. Something between us stopped the earth right on its axis.
I took in her face. Her lashes were drenched, her irises dark, but I just knew that beneath the gloom there was a stunning color waiting to be seen. She was destroyed, ruined, and breaking in my arms. The only thing I could do was hold her and keep her breathing.
In an instant, the earth jolted and the moment we shared vanished. She was suddenly gone, sprinting to a nearby girl with open arms, ready to shield her from the world—the scary, death-filled world that was all around us.
I wanted to hide from it too.
I peered around only to turn my gaze back to the casket in front of me, or more importantly what sat next to it. I stepped forward and crouched down, inspecting the items placed so strategically next to Jase. Cowgirl boots. I knew who they belonged to. I closed my eyes and let the sting of a fresh stab wound pierce my heart. God, this poor girl.
I sat on the black leather couch in my apartment. It had only been a week since we buried my brother. The last thing I’d ever receive from Jase was being gripped to death in my shaking hand. I gazed down at the letter I was to give Cassandra when the time was right. I had thought about her a few times since the funeral—I couldn’t not think about her. I’d have to find a way to look out for her. I didn’t even know where to begin, but with tears streaming down my cheeks, I had to find a way to honor Jase’s last wish. I held her letter along wi
th the one I received and stared at them.
Part of me was afraid to know how she was holding up. None of us were doing all right, there was no way in the fiery pits of hell she would be either. Could I handle knowing she was broken? It didn’t matter. I had to, and not just because Jase asked. The protective man in me would’ve found a way to make sure she was okay, regardless.
For three days, I watched her luggage, the black keeper of her things sitting on the floor, as I sat and drank my pain away, wondering what she was doing to fight hers. It was only a matter of time before I had to know how her heart was holding up. And I would find out. I wasn’t sure how, but I would.
1 year later
Dan
ENDING THE CALL WITH my mom, I set my phone on the wooden coffee table in front of me. I had seven days to prepare myself until we all gathered to remember Jase. I couldn’t lie; I wanted to hear all the stories from our childhood, the funny laugh-out-loud ones that had you holding your gut because it hurt so much. The other part—the selfish part of me—didn’t know if I could. Knowing the reason we were all together for a weekend of memoriam was enough to rip all the feelings of guilt and sorrow back like an open wound.
I wore a path in front of the couch for what felt like hours, but when I looked down at my watch it had only been five minutes. Time always stood still when you didn’t know what to do. I should have been enjoying my accomplishment of finding a new job, but I couldn’t since I didn’t have my brother to celebrate with. He’d always pushed me to go to college, finish it, and then stop at nothing to land a good job. Fuck. I let out a heavy breath and realized what I needed to do to release the anger brewing inside. I grabbed my notepad, a pen, and sat on the couch once more.
Jase,
It’s all too surreal, writing to you when I know you won’t be replying to this letter. I just can’t handle not writing to you. It was the one constant in my life that kept me going. It kept me close to you and now I’m at a loss. Even though it’s almost been a year since you died, my hand keeps itching to write you. It’s probably not a healthy way to heal the gaping hole in my heart from missing you, but it’s the only way I know.
I’ve been keeping an eye on Cassandra for you. I’ve gone behind her back to do it, but she’s doing well. Not as well as I’d hoped, but she’s coping. I’m sure you’re watching her from wherever you are, brother. I talked to Mom about her. I didn’t tell Mom about what you wrote me, but she said she hadn’t heard from her. She was very upset. She misses her. It’s funny, I don’t even know Cassandra, but I miss her being around. She seemed to be the one thing that made everyone in the family happy.
I’m visiting Mom and Dad more frequently now. Dad still won’t look at me. Mom has a hard time too. The guilt that hangs over their heads is unbearable. I can’t say or do anything to fix it. I’m trying; you have to believe me, Jase. I’m doing this for you and for our parents, and I guess for me too. I need family. Since you left I realize how much I miss having family around.
I won’t let you down. You always made sure to be there for me when I needed you and I want to make sure to do anything I can for you. I know you’re gone, but it doesn’t mean I’ll stop helping you, especially with this. I’ll make sure to keep looking after her.
I love you,
Dan
I ripped the paper off the pad, folded it, and put it in an envelope. Another stab gutted me as I went to address it. He wouldn’t get this letter, but something in the back of my mind wouldn’t let me believe it. I was lost. A year without Jase or his letters was more than a brother could take, especially since it was my kidney that failed him in the first place. How does someone move on with their life when a piece of them is buried with their brother?
I ran a hand over my face and popped my neck as my phone began to ring. The screen told me it was Carter. He was my co-worker and the closest thing I had to a friend these days. He was probably calling to harass me about the job he helped me land. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood for any of it this week.
Cassandra
My car traveled down the final city block before I reached my favorite coffee shop, the place that had become my haven. I parked my car, grabbed my bag, and sucked in a breath, gripping the wheel as my mind drifted.
When life kicks the rug out from under you, how do you move on? How do you wake up each day and know the sun is going to shine when you feel like it’s going to be night forever?
My heart was shattered—ripped from my chest, slammed on the cold, hard ground, and stomped on a million times. I was going about life the best I could. I didn’t have any other choice. Life wasn’t about my feelings and wants anymore. The sweet little baby I once didn’t think I could raise or want now came first. How I thought for a second he wouldn’t make my life better was beyond me.
I guess you could say it was fear. The unknown held me hostage when I made decisions. The uncertainty of my past mistake led me to run to a town I’d never heard of. Being afraid of losing Jason caused me to stay, and finding out he was gone forever broke me. Now the fear I held in my heart, telling me I’d never find a love like that again, had me on lockdown. Sadly, all of the people close to me could be counted on one hand.
My phone vibrated, returning my attention to the present world as I stepped out of my car. I answered and couldn’t help but let a smile surface . . . Moose.
“You’re still coming down tomorrow, right?” I asked him, eager for his answer.
He chuckled under his breath. “Yes. Stop asking; I’ll be there.”
“I’m just excited to see you. Stop being a punk about it.” He’d never understand how much I appreciated him.
“A punk? Cass, you kill me. And it’s only been a week. I’ll be there.” My smile grew wider at the ease in his voice.
“Yes, but a week for you is like a year in mommy time when you’re all by yourself.”
“Understandable. I gotta go. I just wanted to say hey, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I grinned at his words. “’Kay. I better go too. Bye.”
I stuffed my phone in my cross-body bag and opened the glass doors to the coffee shop. The aroma welcomed me like a hug, and I could almost taste the coffee already. I needed it badly. Too many nights of too little sleep—not to mention the cabin fever from being cooped up—was doing a number on me. My best friend, Mel, encouraged me to get out of the house, even if it was for only an hour a day. This was my hour. I took a trip to get coffee that hadn’t been sitting in a pot all day or tasted atrocious because I’d added too many or too few scoops of grounds to the pot. Such was my new life.
Mel and I shared a three-bedroom apartment and saved enormous amounts of money in doing so. I used what little dough I’d saved up, along with student loan funds and an okay paying job at the school paper to pay my rent, schooling, and for all things Jase, my baby. Since my parents were out of the picture, I had to step up, and while it’s been a struggle, I haven’t regretted one moment.
No one told me how to live my life anymore. That was a freedom I’d never known until now. Mel and I alternated schedules, and I was thankful for her. She helped me when she didn’t have work and vice versa. She was at home with Jase this morning and I was on a mission to get us coffee.
Rocking my finest yoga pants, a/k/a the only pair not thrown up on, I stepped further inside the shop. The scent of freshly ground coffee and warm, sweet pastries was so enticing that I didn’t make it far before my zombie-like body bumped into an innocent bystander, spilling his large iced tea all down the front of his body.
Mental note . . . next time, don’t leave the house for any reason.
The tea dripped from his baby blue button-up shirt, went all the way down his perfectly ironed black slacks, and ended on his scuff-free dress shoes. A puddle of liquid began to spread on the tiled floor around him. I stood in horror; the place was chaotic from front to back. My mind and eyes went back to the poor guy who had just endured my sleep deprived self.
With wide ey
es, I took in the man whose dark hair was styled in a way that didn’t detract from the cringing expression on his face. He stood motionless as the tea continued to drip and I lingered uselessly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t see you.”
A bystander gave him a handful of napkins, which he used to sop up the liquid on his shirt, dabbing meticulously at one spot before moving onto the next. He’d be soaked for an hour at the rate he was going. I grabbed a stack of napkins from the counter behind me and worked on his lower half. It wasn’t until a few moments later that I realized the area I’d ruthlessly gone over was, in fact, not an appropriate area for this type of setting. Which explained why said man was staring down at me with perfect brows arched high above a pair of wide eyes.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe I did that. I’m on a roll today.” Gradually, I stood to face him. He remained soaked, but now he was mortified as well. The expression he wore continued to say so as his eyes scanned the coffee shop.
I placed a hand over my eyes and prayed for this to be a dream. I uncovered my hot, frowning face. “I’m sorry. I feel horrible about what I did. I’ll get you a new tea.”
His soft laughter and now amused look had me slightly confused. I’d ruined his outfit, patted dry his third leg, and he was laughing?
His smile spread as he fingered his clean-shaven jaw. “Listen, I have to go. I’m running late. Don’t worry about the tea. Things happen.” He shrugged and I swore he flashed me a wink.
I forced my brows together and pointed toward the counter. “No, please. I insist. Let me you buy you another one. It won’t take long.”
An amused grin played on his lips as he patted at his still soaked pants. “Don’t worry about it.” If I weren’t half asleep and ashamed, I’d have noticed sooner how charming a smile it was. “I’ll be all right. A little wet, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I promise.”
