Caught in the Flames (45 page)

I open my mouth to argue but he cuts me off. “I can’t. Okay? You don’t have to understand or agree. I just need you to respect my decision.” His eyes fill with tears. “I can’t stay in this town anymore.”

“When will you leave?” I choke out. I’m surprised the words even make it past my lips coherently, they’re so full of agony. He shrugs and shuffles to the door. His retreating back causes even more tears to fall from my face.

This isn’t happening
.

“Good-bye, Callie.” He doesn’t look over his shoulder to say the words and when he pulls the front door open wide a gust of wind sends goosebumps across my skin.
This isn’t real
. He steps outside and I refuse to say good-bye to this man, to acknowledge he’s leaving me. He can’t leave, not at a time like this. “Good-bye.” He says the words again and shuts the door with a soft thud and click of the lock.

And just like that, he’s gone. All of my hurt escapes my lips in a wail. I fall onto the couch, the one we made love on all through the night and clutch one of the throw pillows to my chest as I give in to my tears, my cries, my pain.

I’ve never felt more alone.

My eyes burn and the skin just underneath them is swollen when I wake up on the couch hours later. I can’t read the clock on the wall because no sun or moon casts shadows in the room. I sit up and hug my legs to my chest as I remember how I ended up in this place.

The grumble of my stomach begs for sustenance, but before I lift myself off the couch my purse buzzes with an incoming call or message. I drag it closer and dig inside until I unearth my cell. The screen reads 5:44 PM. God, I slept the entire afternoon. I guess that’s understandable given the last forty-eight hours.

Unlocking the screen, I scroll through the messages. News has spread and the number of people who have reached out to offer support or condolences is overwhelming. I may have only lived in this community a short while, but the kindness I’m being shown is touching. I send replies to the important people, my dad, Jill, Alicia, and my boss, Jim. Mostly so they don’t worry or try to come over. I don’t want to see anyone. No one will get it, understand my loss, what I’ve been through. That is, no one except Ash. But he’s not here and he hasn’t texted. I can’t believe he would leave me. I drop my phone back in my bag.

The house is so quiet.

No shuffle of feet. No whiny meows.

Shit. The cat.

It’s then I recall the closet and boxes. The one marked for me.

Stepping down the hall, I flip on the switch in Kiki’s room and the pale yellow lampshade illuminates the space. I open the closet door and pull out the box labeled with my name. Sitting on the bed, I fold my legs under me and set the container on my lap to remove the lid. I’m startled at what I find. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe something more colorful and reminiscent of my friend, but not this.

Inside lies one large manila envelope, thick, too. And one small white envelope with my name scrolled across the front. Since it’s labeled with my name, I open it first. Penned in her cursive is a letter addressed to me.

My dearest Callie,

If this letter finds you it means I have passed on from this earth. Do not be sad. Okay, be a little sad, but don’t wallow in your own tears on my behalf. I’ve had a good life, better than most—I’ve traveled the world, made love to men along the way, but most importantly, I experienced what it was to love and be loved. I pray I’m with him now, and if I am, you must not be sad, for my heart has always belonged with my Phil.

I don’t have many regrets in life, but one, if I’m being honest, was not having children of my own. By the time Phil and I got together it was too late for me, and though I always hoped his children would be like my own, that never happened. I’m sure you’ve discovered by now that Chase’s family is linked most intimately to my own. I wanted to tell you, considered it often, but I feared the information would only give you a reason to hate him. Or worse, me. I’m sorry for that.

You have come into my life so unexpectedly. And with that you’ve brought so much joy in a time I was struggling to find the goodness in life. You’ve brought my garden back, but more, you’ve restored my faith in humanity, family, and friendship. You have truly been the daughter I always longed for. You are so special. Never let anyone cause you to doubt this.

I pray you don’t open this letter for many, many years, but no matter the time, I want you to know that I love you, my sweet Callie, dear. Thank you for everything you’ve done for this old woman. I know you didn’t do it expecting something in return, but I have a surprise for you all the same.

My love,

Mary Katherine Callahan

I carefully fold the letter away from my body as to not blot the ink with my tears. Damn it. I don’t want to cry anymore, but these tears, they’re more than just pain, they’re full of love for my friend. She couldn’t have known how much that one letter would mean to me, but right now it’s given me the ability to breathe deeply again. Her words are something I will cherish always. Tucking the note back inside the box, I pull out the larger package. This must be the surprise. I have no clue what it is, but since it’s from Kiki I can’t wait another minute to find out.

Tearing the flap, I remove the stack of paper inside.

Oh. My.

A red stamped font marks the document as a copy, but it’s the words beneath that catch me off guard and completely tilt my world.

I, Mary Katherine Callahan, being of sound mind and body, do bequeath all monies, insurance policies, real estate, and other property to Callie Gordon, my sole beneficiary.

It’s too much, and yet not enough because I don’t want it. I just want Kiki. I shove the papers back into the box and fish out her letter to me, clutching it close. Maybe it’s because it’s her room, or because of what I just read but my racing pulse settles and a calm peace washes over me. I pull her afghan, the one folded at the foot of the bed, over my body and I flip the switch off to her bedside lamp. The comfort of her bed and the words of her letter wrap me in warmth as I give in to the lull of sleep. An escape from this day, no less, but her words offer comfort all through the night.

I want you to know that I love you, my sweet Callie, dear.

I know, Kiki. I know. I love you, too.

I hate life sometimes.

I know I’m supposed to be positive and think things like this too shall pass, or what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but fucking hell. Sometimes, on days like today everything seems hopeless, and lost, and there doesn’t seem to be a point to the pain.

And I know others have it harder than I do. At least I have a job, a place to live, breath to take, but knowing and feeling are two different experiences. I know it will get better. However, in this moment I feel as though I’d rather die.

Everything has been like this since Kiki died. Since Ash left. And every day I debate with myself about moving back to my house. Where I belong. It’s down the street and it’s the house I bought for myself. Except when I go inside Kiki’s home, it feels as if she’s still with me. I can’t help but feel if I move away that I’ll be giving up on her. Besides, she left it to me, and after everything moves through the probate process, this place will be legally mine.

I’m also looking for Silas.

I check in with the local shelters daily. After two weeks I’m certain they’re completely sick of me, but I’m determined to find him and bring him home. And with last week’s snow storm dropping another ten inches I realize the chances of finding him alive are diminished. But I’m not giving up hope.

Jill and Alicia have been amazing. Sticking by my side and making sure I don’t fall into a sadness I can’t escape. They bring me food. They bring me wine. We laugh. But I still miss Kiki. I long for Ash.

Jim has been more than helpful, and I’m thankful to have a boss like him. And with the nature of my job I really can work from anywhere. It’s nice to not have to go in to an office and pretend things are fine when they aren’t. It’s also great to have an income while I figure out my next move.

That’s something I’ve been giving lots of consideration these past two weeks. There was a card in the manila envelope along with Kiki’s will, and I contacted the lawyer right away. Her will has to be probated and he’s invited me to the reading of it next week. It’ll take a few months for everything to move through probate before disbursements will be made but the estimated sum of my inheritance renders me speechless. Bottom line, I have a few months to decide what I want to do. To sell the house. Quit my job. Travel the world. Buy an Aston Martin DB9 and drive into the sunset never to return.

So many possibilities and yet none seem right.

My dad doesn’t know about the will. I haven’t told anyone, and I honestly can’t wait to visit him for Christmas. The next three weeks are bound to drag but I trust he will give me the guidance I need before I make any major decisions.

Today, much like the past few days, I find myself driving aimlessly for an hour to try and clear my mind. It doesn’t surprise me when I glide down the street near the old library and pull into the empty lot. The charred structure glows with an almost luminous glare from the way the sunlight reflects off the fresh snow. It looks so innocent, unassuming. The remnants don’t showcase the destruction of what was an entire community’s collection of books, crafts, and artwork. The fire that took my dear friend’s life.

I wish they would knock the place down.

My feet hit the snow with a soft crunch as I hop out of my Jeep. I follow the familiar path to where it meets the chain link fence, something the county installed within days of the fire to keep the area secure. My eyes peruse the wrecked structure, the inside a gaping black hole. I squat down and pull the wrapped bag from my pocket. Though I’m probably only feeding the squirrels, I can’t help but leave a paper bowl of food in the hopes Silas will find it. That or he’ll realize I’m coming here daily and show his face.

The crunch of snow lifts my gaze and I search for movement. A flash of black fabric around the corner of the building catches my attention but it’s gone before I get a good look.
Someone’s here? And inside the fence?

Maybe I should call the cops. But then whoever it is will be long gone. I have to find this person and ask if they’ve seen a very unhappy tabby cat. I shoot to my feet and jog the fence line, looking for a break or hole. I discover one, farther from the path that leads to the parking lot, and I slip through where the fence gapes.

I race in the direction I saw the person disappear. Pumping my legs as fast as they’ll go I almost stumble and trip twice before I round the corner. A man’s body, or maybe a large woman because all I see is a long coat, boots, and beanie covered head, walks along the exterior wall. Shit, they’re almost to the other corner.

“Stop! Wait! Please!” I shout and I’m thankful they do. Slowing my run to a jog I’m a little breathless when the person turns so I can see his face.

“Ash?”

“Callie?” His brows lift with surprise and he appears as shocked as I.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt and he shrugs. His gaze falls to the ground. “It’s good to see you. I just—I thought you left.” It hurts to say the words aloud.

His gaze lifts and he pulls his hands from his jacket pockets, rubbing them together and then breathing into them for warmth. “You look good, Callie.” I notice he avoids my question.

I take a moment to study his features. His eyes that hold no joy, the deep circles under them, and the frown of his lips. “You’ve looked better,” I respond and he gives a gruff laugh. My lips pull up at the edges because I’m so happy to see him, but I hold it back. I don’t know why he’s here but it’s surely not to stay. “You told me you were leaving,” I say and it secures his frown in place.

“I
was
leaving. But—”

“What?” I say with all the hurt I feel. He’s been here.
Around
. And I’ve been suffering without him, with loss for Kiki, missing two people when I could have had one by my side.
Or in my bed
. Fuck. So not going there right now.