The Days Without You: A Story of Love, Loss, and Grief

by Skylar Wilson

  Kylie failed to fight down her own growing smile as she slipped her phone into her front pocket, and she bit her lip as she returned to the hospital room.

  “What are you smirking about?” mumbled Sarah groggily, lifting a hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “Did you win the lottery?”

  A small laugh escaped. “No.”

  “It’s that boy, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sarah pushed herself up, leaning on her knuckles, eyeing her daughter. “Good for you.”

  What the hell just happened?

  The last couple in Adam’s section was taking their sweet time, laughing jovially and eating slower than anyone he had ever seen, and he found the wait agonizing. Did they not have anything better to do on a sunny afternoon? It was nearly three o’clock, and these first few days of February brought considerably warmer weather. Perhaps it was simply his ardor for Kylie, even so early on—barely a few weeks had passed since the concert—that urged his eagerness. While waiting for his patrons to finally finish their meal, he helped Ollie, who worked as a bartender with them, put away clean glasses behind the bar. Samantha emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a rag.

  “What are you so antsy about that you’re actually helping us for once? Must have something on your mind,” she said.

  “Just got plans.”

  “New girlfriend?”

  “Oh, the girl you met at the concert?” Ollie interjected. “What’s her name, anyway?”

  Adam grit his teeth. He hated when anyone pried into his personal life, and he wanted to slap the smug smiles off both their faces. He eyed them with a furtive glance before turning to line a glass in its perfect straight row. “Her name is Kylie.”

  Samantha cocked one brow, her hands flying to her hips. “Not Kylie Lewis, is it?”

  “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

  “She competes in the Gidget Classic every year—the women’s surfing competition,” she added at Adam’s blank expression.

  Ollie stared at her. “Never heard of it.”

  “That’s because you’ve got your head so far up your ass, you can’t pay attention to anything,” she huffed. She shook her head and slowly wiped down the counter with the damp rag. “She’s competed against me. We were up against each other last year, on the same wave, but I had the inside position. Judges called interference on her, and she got disqualified. We kind of got into an argument over it.”

  “Oh.” He nodded slowly, catching Ollie’s eye and twisting his expression with his back facing Samantha.

  His ride to Kaminsky’s was short, and Kylie was already waiting outside, standing beside the steep concrete steps that led to the door. She had dressed up—floral-printed dress and heels on her feet, and rouge coloring her cheeks. A wow nearly escaped Adam’s lips. He dismounted his bike, already smiling as he greeted her.

  She stood straight, her shoes lifting her to nearly eye-level, and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Hey,” she greeted with a soft smile. Her gaze roved the café’s engraved wooden sign. “You know, I’ve lived in Charleston my entire life, and I don’t think I’ve ever been here.”

  “Oh, you’re seriously missing out, then,” he said, leaning down to lock his bicycle to a streetlamp. Standing straight, he paused for a moment, unsure of whether or not to kiss her. Flustered, he shoved one hand in his pocket. His floundering must have been obvious, as Kylie suddenly grew fascinated with the buckle of her purse. “Er, the key lime pie is my favorite. I hear the marble cheesecake is good, too,” he added.

  Kylie gave another small smile, and Adam opened the door for her before stepping inside. A refrigerated glass case filled with an array of delicious, rich-looking cakes and desserts stood to their right, preceding a long wooden bar backed by a display of liquors. The space was dim, illuminated mostly by the rays of sunlight filtered through the front window, and a few moments passed before Adam’s eyes adjusted. They were seated at a small square table in front of the window and were quickly greeted by a waitress. Adam leaned forward, folding his arms on the table, and said hello, his eyes continually darting to Kylie, who ordered a cappuccino.

  “And a slice of cheesecake,” she added.

  “Same for me.”

  The waitress gave a brisk smile before turning away.

  Kylie raised one brow at him, a smirk twitching on her mouth. “What, no key lime pie?”

  “Figured it’s time to branch out, expand my horizons.”

  “Oh, yes, desserts definitely make you more worldly.” She nodded with furrowed brows in feigned seriousness, then laughed.

  Adam reveled in the warm, bright ringing of her laughter, watching as her head tilted back, causing her hair to spill over her shoulder.

  “Although,” she continued, “I suppose I can’t really say anything, what with Raleigh being the farthest I’ve ever traveled.”

  “How can you not have gone any farther than that?”

  She shrugged. “I like Charleston. This is my home. I’m comfortable here.”

  He gave a slow nod as his eyes met hers. He had yet to truly study her face; it was heart-shaped yet rounded with plump cheeks, a small, shallow dimple dotted her chin, and her lips were slightly uneven, her lower lip fuller than the top. He found beauty in the subtle imperfections of her features, and he found himself lost in that beauty.

  “I heard you surf, by the way,” he said, sitting up.

  Her eyes snapped at him, her forehead creasing. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Someone I work with, Samantha. She said you surfed against each other in some competition.”

  “The Gidget Classic.” Her expression tightened, and she fell quiet.

  Had he said something wrong? He sat straight in his chair. The waitress returned with their food and cappuccinos just then, sparing Adam from the awkward moment. He thanked her with a smile before glancing back at Kylie. Her features softened now as she picked up her fork.

  Finally, she spoke. “So, you work with Samantha Hart?” She took a big bite of cheesecake.

  “Sounds like you don’t like her much.”

  “It’s a long story. Main thing is she’s always been a bitch to Cat and me, and when they called an interference last year in her favor, she flipped out on me. Insulted me, my dad—who taught me to surf—calling me all sorts of names. So, yeah, I’m not a big fan of hers.”

  “Honestly? That doesn’t surprise me,” he said before taking a long drink. “Does your dad still surf?”

  “Um, he isn’t with us anymore. He died when I was in tenth grade.”

  Adam nodded slowly, his lips forming a small O. “Sorry to hear that.”

  Kylie shook her head, taking another large bite. “It is what it is. I went through a rough patch after he died.” She shrugged one shoulder, but her eyes remained on her plate. “My mama took me to a doctor, and they put me on medicine for a while. Therapy, too, for six months. I know it was difficult on Cat. I don’t think she knew how to help. Not that there was anything she could have done, anyway—I was pretty miserable.”

  Adam chewed slowly, surreptitiously watching Kylie as she sipped from her mug. Part of him was surprised at her candor. He saw that it wasn’t quite complete vulnerability, total openness. Something still lingered behind her walls. Still, he appreciated what little she gave him at this point, as she didn’t strike him as the kind of person who would open up emotionally, to willingly share the deeper, uglier parts of her soul.

  “It was hard when my brother died,” he said gently. “I was able to lose myself in music, but my mom completely broke down. We had to put her in the hospital. She’s never really been the same since, but at least she’s functioning now. Dad was just…well, himself.” His face contorted, his grip tightening around his mug handle, irritated at the memories alone.

  “So,” said Kylie suddenly, “when’s your next show?”

  “This Saturday at seven. Old Time Joe’s is having us back again.”

  She tipped her cup back t
o drain her cappuccino. Swallowing, she added, “I’ll have to bring Cat. She loves checking out shows.”

  “Maybe one of these days I could come with you to the beach. Not much of a surfer—I can’t even swim, I just sink—but I’d like to see you surf sometime.”

  A laugh escaped Kylie’s lips. “I’d like that.” She inhaled sharply. “I’m planning on competing in the Gidget again this year, in June. I’d love to finally win. I would’ve last year if it hadn’t been for Samantha and the interference call.”

  “I’ll have to come to cheer you on.”

  Tentatively, Kylie reached across the table for his hand and offered a serene smile.

  “How’s Mama doing?” asked Cat, tossing a throw pillow onto the floor and flopping onto the sofa in Kylie’s living room.

  Kylie picked up the pillow, set it against the television stand, and eased herself onto the opposite end of the sofa. Her mother had spent three days in the hospital before being released, and now had been home for two days. “Tired and sick from the chemo. She’s home now, at least.”

  “Glad she’s home. I’m sure she’s at least a little more comfortable in her own bed.”

  If still vomiting days after getting chemo is considered comfortable, thought Kylie. She was unsure if she wanted to discuss her mother’s treatment and cancer. A day had yet to pass that she wasn’t reminded of it, of the inevitability of her mother’s death. “You should come over to Mama’s house again. I’m sure she would love the company.”

  “Is she still working at the real estate office?”

  She shook her head. “No, she resigned after she got her diagnosis.”

  A sad, soft expression took over Cat’s features, her lips curling down in the slightest way, and she took Kylie’s hand. “How are you doing?”

  One brow arched. Cat’s palm felt warm around her cold, slightly sweaty fingers. A jumble of thoughts darted through her mind; in all honesty, she wasn’t sure of how she was doing, of what she felt. A slew of emotions all blurred together. Scared for her mother. Cautiously charmed by her budding relationship with Adam. Guilty for feeling remotely happy about anything when death hovered.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Kylie.”

  “Seriously. I’m okay,” she urged, hoping to sound genuine.

  “Will you be okay?” Cat studied her with wide eyes. “After…you know. After your mama passes.”

  “I don’t know.” She fidgeted under Cat’s steady gaze, wringing her hands together in her lap. Could she not just enjoy a quiet evening without being interrogated? “Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  Cat squeezed her hand. “I just don’t want you to get depressed again like you did in high school. I’ve seen a lot of patients on the unit with it, and I know it’s hard.”

  “I’ll be fine this time around. I’ve got you. And Adam…I guess. He lost his brother, so he understands.” Her posture stiffened and her hands fought to smooth a crease in her shirt, tugging at the hem. Would she? Be okay? Doubt washed over her, but to admit it would worry Cat even more.

  “Maybe I’ve never lost anyone, but I was still there for you last time, yet you still shut me out,” Cat shot at her. “So, what is it you’re implying?”

  Kylie’s cheeks reddened and flushed. Closing her eyes, she reached up to the nape of her neck to rip the rubber band from her ponytail and combed her fingers through her hair. “I’m not implying anything. It’s not like I had any control over how I felt.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I don’t understand why you and Mama are giving me such a hard time.”

  “Because we worry about you. We both saw what you went through. You don’t handle things well.”

  No way could she continue the conversation like this. The subject had to change. Swallowing hard, she looked Cat in the eye and forced a brightened smile.

  “By the way, Adam’s band has a show tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? I think you’d like their music.” Her tone came harsher than intended, but Kylie fought to soften her face and relax her posture; her shoulders dropped, and her hands lay flat on her thighs.

  Cat studied her with a hard, calculating gaze. Yes, Kylie was trying to change the subject, to take the focus off herself. The fact that both her mother and Cat had begun to fuss and coddle her was irritating her to no end.

  “All right, I’ll go,” she conceded. “But promise you’ll let me help you this time, okay? I love you.”

  A smile—reluctant but genuine—twitched onto Kylie’s lips.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Adam peeked with wide eyes from behind the back door of Old Time Joe’s, amazed at the small crowd already swarming around the stage. Thirty or forty people, he guessed. A flurry of chatter and overhead radio music filled the cramped, dim space. For a fleeting moment, he was sure he glimpsed Kylie’s blond head of hair by the bar, and the sight made his stomach lurch, but the next moment she had disappeared. Had he even seen her at all?

  As they stepped out onto the stage, the crowd cheered with hoots and whistles. The rush of adrenaline sent electricity shooting all the way to Adam’s fingertips as he slipped the guitar strap over his head, and a vivacious grin grew as he stepped up to the front microphone.

  “Hey, everyone. I want to thank you guys for coming out to see us tonight,” he said while Benny made a few final tuning tweaks, softly picking at each string. “We’ve got a couple new songs for you and, as always, we got some great swag after the show, so stick around!”

  The first four songs vibrated throughout the room, but Ollie stumbled on the fifth, a new song of the band’s, causing Benny to flub on his solo during the bridge, and Adam had to catch up with the lyrics. His sweaty face flushed, from both embarrassment and the heat of the lights. Of course they messed up on a night when Kylie was supposed to be here! Their performance had been nearly perfect the last time they played Old Time Joe’s. How many people had noticed their screw-up tonight? As they moved onto the next song, the band eased into regular time and rhythm once more. Still, Adam’s face remained tinged with pink while he played, strumming his guitar and singing into the microphone. His tension failed to ease as the songs went on.

  After they finished their set and the table of swag had been set up, Adam set out into the room in search of Kylie. What if she hadn’t come tonight? Not that it was a big deal, he told himself. Or was it? He pushed past a chattering group of college-aged kids, muttering an apology as he bumped into someone. His eyes roved every face until, finally, he spotted Kylie and Cat by the bar. They were chatting animatedly, both wearing broad smiles, drinks clenched in their hands.

  “Hey. You came,” Adam blurted out.

  “Yeah.” Kylie smiled again, then motioned to Cat. “This is Cat. Officially. I didn’t get to quite…um…properly introduce you the other week. Or at the concert.” She waited while Adam shook Cat’s hand, and both murmured an awkward hello. “Anyway, do you want to do something after you’re done with your table and everything?” she asked.

  A smile lit up his features, his eyes crinkling. “Sure, yeah. Wanna come back to my place? Shawn’s already planning on some party after, so it’ll be just us.”

  She glanced at Cat. “Sounds great.”

  “Great.” He grinned even wider now. “I’ll catch up with you after we’re done, then.” Leaning down, he swiftly and boldly planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “Ready to go?” he asked Kylie, one hour later, after the table had been put away in Benny’s van and most of the band’s swag had been sold. Only a few t-shirts and CDs remained, but otherwise sales had been excellent.

  “Ready.”

  After chattering away with Ollie for some time, Cat had departed already, leaving Kylie to hang around watching people come and go.

  The pair bid goodnight to Ollie and Benny, both of whom stood with drinks in hand with Benny’s wife. As Adam walked, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, watching Kylie from the corner of his
eye. Her thumb hooked around the strap of her shoulder bag, and her eyes never left the uneven concrete sidewalk.

  “So…what did you think of the show?” asked Adam to break the silence.

  “It was good. You obviously have talent, all of you.”

  “Good. To be honest, I was kind of nervous ‘cause I wasn’t sure you were there.” He gave a nervous laugh.

  “We were running late; I’d been hoping to see you before the show. You know, just to say hi.”

  His stomach did a small but happy flip at the notion that she had wanted to see him and was openly admitting it. Feeling somewhat bold again, he held out his hand. It was a moment before Kylie took it, entwining her fingers between his. They continued to walk in silence, their hands gently swinging between them.

  Adam bounded up the rickety steps of the tired house’s porch and jiggled the key in the lock until it clicked, then held open the peeling, black door for Kylie.

  Slipping off his tennis shoes inside the door, he waited for her to show some sign of distaste.

  “It’s not much,” he said with a shrug.

  “I like it.” She kicked off her shoes by the sofa, still looking around. “It’s very…eclectic.”

  The faded blue paint on the walls seemed even more worn as Kylie walked around. The wooden floor creaked and clicked in spots as Kylie poked her head into the kitchen, then Shawn’s room.

  “I wouldn’t go in there,” Adam warned. “It probably requires a biohazard suit.”

  She quickly shut the door and grimaced, then stopped at the acoustic guitar sitting in a stand in the corner, leaning down to gently pluck a string. “How many guitars do you have?”

  “Two. That one and the electric I used at the show.”

  “What’s up here?” She climbed the first few treads of the spiral staircase.

  “My bedroom.”

  A keen gleam glinted in her eyes as she glanced at him, one hand poised at the railing. Her lips parted ever so slightly, the corners twitching up in a smart smirk before she pounced up the steps, curling around the bend in the stairs. Adam swallowed hard. He had no alcohol to lower his inhibition this time; that was surely the reason for his sudden nerves. Tightening his jaw, he followed her up the staircase.