To Say Goodbye (2 page)

In short, she wanted to forget Tim had died, had gone, had left her.

This was silly, though, because everywhere she looked in their home, she saw him and, thus, felt his absence. She saw the archway where he’d playfully flung paint in her hair as they touched up their new home when they first moved in. She saw his chair at the dinner table, saw the shelf in the fridge where five cans of his favorite beer still sat. There were places of slow dances, places of passionate kisses, and photographs all around. The house was starting to feel more like a mausoleum of memories than a sanctuary.

Her loved ones had tried to perk her up, tried to help her move on. There’d been dozens of casseroles and dinner offers, and many movie nights with Stella. Even though her in-laws were living in Florida now, they constantly sent her care packages. Tim’s mom sent her favorite no-bake cookies and notes that said she hoped Sophia was doing okay. They’d even offered her a place to stay if she wanted to get away and soak up some sun.

Her parents and Stella had taken turns entertaining her, trying to make her smile. She loved them for it. But they weren’t what she needed. They weren’t Tim.

Sophia sighed, knowing this wasn’t helping anything. She didn’t think going back to work today was going to help either. But she had no choice. She needed to rejoin the world, practice surviving. It wasn’t fair to make Stella keep shouldering the business. She needed to return.

Sophia checked her bag to make sure she had her keys and wallet, then headed out the door. The sun was shining, and neighbors were heading out to their cars as well. She gave a few brief hellos before jumping in her car.

“Here goes nothing,” she said to herself as she started the car and headed down the road for the first time in a long time.

_______________

“Morning, sunshine,” Stella cheered as Sophia entered through the door of Pink Lemonade. She felt like an alien walking into the place that not long ago was her second home. The pink walls, the pink lemonade in the beverage dispenser, the magazines everywhere—it felt familiar. But being here for the first time since Tim’s death felt strange. She wasn’t the same woman who had walked out of here that fateful day. Everything had changed.

She shrugged off the thoughts.
I just have to survive today. I just have to focus on haircuts, perms, and nails.

“I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you’re back. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through,” Stella said, heading from behind the register to give her a hug. “Come on over. Everything’s exactly how you left it.”

Sophia walked over to her station. A bouquet of flowers sat by her mirror. “Stell, what are these?” She touched the pink carnations and tried not to think about the funeral home, the bouquets there.

“Honey, I just wanted you to know I love you, and I know this is hard. I’m here for you.”

“I know. I can’t thank you enough for these past few months. I know it’s been rough on you, running everything alone. I feel awful about it.” She turned away from the flowers, closing her eyes and taking a breath.

“That’s what friends are for. You needed some time. I think it’s good you’re back, though. You need to get into a routine again.”

Sophia looked at her best friend with gratitude. Stella had been her best friend since right after high school when they met at the beauty academy. They’d been through bad dye jobs together, tears over failed tests, first jobs together at Opal’s Salon, and eventually the chaos of opening their own hair salon. She’d been her maid of honor, her go-to for advice about everything. Now, though, her friend had proven she was truly one-of-a-kind. She’d helped Sophia through the worst moments of her life, and now she was about to help her through her first day of rejoining the world.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Sophia said as she ran her fingers over her combs and plugged in her hot iron.

“Well, you’re not going to have to find out anytime soon.” Stella winked, tucking a piece of her hot-pink hair behind her ear.

The phone rang, breaking up their moment. It was back to busy, and Sophia was glad. She headed to the desk to answer the phone.

“Pink Lemonade, Sophia speaking, how can I help you?”

It was good to be back.

_______________

Eight hours later, two perms, a highlight job, six haircuts, five refills on the lemonade, and Sophia and Stella sat in their own chairs. They passed back and forth the box of Swedish Fish—they’d clung to the addiction from beauty school.

“Can you believe she actually thought gray looked good on her?” Stella squealed.

“Oh my God, it looked awful! I thought she was going to cry when I did the reveal. I surely would’ve. But the poor thing thought it looked trendy!”

“Wait until she’s thirty. Gray won’t be so trendy then, huh?”

The two women laughed, recalling the craziness of the day. A seventeen-year-old decided she’d jump on the trend wagon, dying her gorgeous blonde locks solid silver. It looked disastrous.

“How about Mrs. Joseph complaining about her cut?”

“Oh man. I thought she’d never leave. ‘Just another one-sixteenth of an inch, dearie.’ Such a sweet lady, but I’m glad you got her this time, Soph.”

Sophia smiled, taking back the Swedish Fish for a few more. “It feels good to be back. It was nice to not think about everything, to be so busy I couldn’t. I sort of wish I’d returned sooner.”

“It was good to take some time. You needed to grieve.”

“I think you were just worried my melancholy state would’ve transferred to my work.”

“I was a bit concerned about you coloring everyone’s hair black to match your period of mourning.”

Sophia laughed. “Could you imagine Mrs. Joseph if I dyed her hair black?”

“We’d be mourning you when she killed you.” After the words were out, Stella stopped, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. “Oh my God, Soph. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” She reached over to pat Sophia’s leg.

“It’s okay. Really. I know Tim’s dead. I haven’t forgotten. You don’t need to tiptoe.”

“I know. I just... I... I don’t know. I don’t know how to do all of this. I’m terrible at this sort of thing.”

Sophia smiled. “I don’t think anyone
should
be good at this sort of thing. Trust me.”

Stella sobered, looking off into the distance. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I really can’t. I don’t know how you’re holding it together.”

“I’m not.”

“You look like you’ve got it together.”

“I’m trying.”

Stella looked at Sophia. “That’s all you can do. Just keep trying, Soph. That’s what he would want.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Sophia stared at the floor in silence, the realization that a day’s worth of work couldn’t make everything go away.

“I guess I should get going.”

“You want to do something? You okay?” Stella asked, standing now to take a load of towels to the laundry area.

“I’m okay, Stella. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two hugged as Stella walked her to the door.

“Soph?” Stella asked, and Sophia turned around.

“Love you. I’m glad you’re back. I missed you. Plus, the customers have been complaining. My pink lemonade isn’t nearly as good as yours.”

Sophia smiled. “Love you back.”

Then she headed to her car and home, or at least to the empty shell of the home remaining after Tim’s death. She’d put in a day. She’d survived.

But how many more would she have to get through?

JACKSON

T
he heavy liquid skirted down his throat, bubbling as it went. He pulled the glass bottle back and set it on the end table as his free hand flipped through the channels. One lonely lamp across the room gave the living area an eerie glow. He barely noticed, his eyes glued to the television, his feet propped up on the coffee table near the Chinese takeout containers.

Upstairs, a couple quarreled, someone stomping from room to room. He was already tired of his neighbors, tired of the apartment life. But what else did he have? The rent was cheap, cheap enough to afford on his wages at the restaurant. Plus, he was alone now. He didn’t need much space. He was a bachelor, living the life some men dreamed of. It was a dream that had become his personal nightmare.

Some things about his life were good. It was nice to be living in one place, to not be at the mercy of the army, to not be constantly relocated. It was good to have a stable routine coupled with some freedom. It was nice to be back in his hometown, to be close to his parents again, to spend time with his family. His sister, Gretta, was only twenty minutes away with her husband and son. It was good to be in close proximity to them. This wasn’t enough to cheer him up, though. Too much had been lost. First Chloe, then Logan. And now Tim was gone.

True, Tim hadn’t really been a huge part of his life anymore. Life’s business, the hectic state of their individual career paths kept them apart. Life had forced them apart. Now, death had permanently severed any chance of them restoring their friendship.

That didn’t make the blow any less terrible. It seemed like Jackson couldn’t catch a break these days. Everything crumbled around him, making him paranoid. He was on edge, wondering what would be next.

His cellphone rang, causing him to jump. Looking at the screen, he saw the name. It was Chloe returning his call. Finally.

“Hello?” his voice cracked. He hadn’t used it in several hours, sitting in solitude after his shift at La Familia De Rinoldo. Now, it sounded broken.

“I listened to your messages. All six of them. Jackson, stop calling me. Everything’s been settled.”

“I know, I just, I thought maybe since it’s Logan’s birthday, we could make an exception.”

Chloe huffed loudly into the phone. “You know it’s not your weekend. The agreement gave me his birthday this year.”

“I know, Chloe. But it’s his birthday. I don’t want to miss it. Please.”

“Jackson, no. You know I’m not making any exceptions. The court made its decision. This weekend is mine.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I didn’t do anything. You did it. You made the choice.”

“I know I fucked up. But you can’t keep my son from me.”

“Yes, I can.”

The phone clicked. It was done.

Jackson gritted his teeth, trying to quell the surging anger. He wanted to scream, wanted to drive the two hours to Chloe’s new house and flip out. He wanted to hit the man who was now playing his role, who Logan was probably already calling Daddy. He wanted to take Logan and leave the country. Instead, he took another pull from his beer. As rational thought took over, he realized if he wanted to be mad at anyone, it should be himself.

Yeah, Chloe had messed up. She made her share of mistakes, burned him badly.

Jackson was the one to make the mistakes leading to the final loss, though, the worst loss. He was the reason Logan was gone from his life.

He was the only one to blame. His life was on a downward spiral, had been for some time. And there was no one to turn to now, not really.

When he’d come back into town, he’d hoped to find what he’d been missing, to sort things out. He’d thought this town would allow him to reconnect with the person he’d once been. Now though, with all things happening as they were, he wasn’t sure it was possible.

He finished his beer, turned off the television, and went to bed, hopeless and alone, wondering if life could possibly get any worse.

He’d left the army to settle into a life, the life he’d always dreamed about.

The only problem was the life he wanted to reclaim had collapsed around him. And he hadn’t even known it.

JACKSON

“O
rder up,” Jackson yelled as he turned back to the Chicken Cordon Bleu he was making. He used his forearm to rub the sweat away from his brow as he busied his hands with the next task.

His father had thought he was crazy when he’d taken this job at the local gourmet restaurant.

“Son, you have over ten years in the army. You have experience with a construction crew. Don’t you want to do something more substantial?”

“I love cooking.”

“Hmph.” His dad clearly didn’t see a job as a chef as man’s work. As a retired army sergeant himself, Louis Gauge, if he were being honest, held it against Jackson that he hadn’t finished out his military career.

Nonetheless, Jackson had wanted to get away from his past. When he came home to Hollidaysburg, he wanted to get away from any ties to his previous life. Cooking seemed about as far away from the front lines as he could get.

He’d always loved the idea of taking simple ingredients and making something phenomenal out of them. If his dad hadn’t pushed him into the military, he’d have probably gone to culinary school right out of high school. Those days were long gone, however. He was just glad the owners of La Familia De Rinoldo had given him a chance. He liked to work with his hands. He liked the chaos of the kitchen. He liked taking something ordinary and making an experience for the customers with it.

Life in the army had taught him to handle stress, to be organized, to be efficient. These skills translated well in the kitchen, which he was thankful for. However, other than that, his time in the army had offered him little satisfaction.

How could it when it had destroyed everything?

He slid the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. The hours flew by with ease, and soon it was time to clock out. He should have been grateful for another day done. Instead, he was saddened. When your life at home consisted of takeout and television, there was little benefit to being done with work.

Figuring another night alone in his dingy, neutral apartment wouldn’t do his psyche much good, he decided to visit his parents. His dad might not approve of his career choices, but he was still supportive of him. It would be good to see some friendly faces, to talk, maybe even to play a little poker with the old man. He would probably lose some money. After all, his dad wasn’t called Lucky Lou for nothing.

Pulling into the driveway of his childhood home, Jackson took a second to glance around. Memories of being a boy flooded in. He saw himself as a six-year-old swinging in the tire swing, which was still in the front yard for his nephew, Jace. He could hear his mom singing him to sleep every night, could smell the aroma of the chocolate chip cookies she made every Sunday. He glanced to the back shed where he’d experienced his first kiss, saw the tree where he’d endured his first breakup. The home was filled with memories, memories of a time gone by. Memories of a time when he still believed life was fair, was something to be excited about. Certainly, there were bad memories too, especially after Wade. Looking at the house now, he didn’t think of those. He thought of the warm memories, the memories that made him crave his youth, crave a simpler time.