by Monica James
He takes a step toward her, facing her as if she can see him. He lowers his chin. “I miss you, Grace. And I’m sorry to have left you alone. When Rose left, I took all my anger out on you, and that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. I want you to know that I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.” She draws the sweater to her nose, sobbing. “You may not be able to see me but know that I am here, watching over you, watching over you both. I know you can feel me. I’ve heard every word you’ve said. I love that you still leave the porch light on for me, just in case I come home. When you’re alone at night, crying in the dark, know that I’m sitting right beside you, holding your hand and telling you everything will be all right.”
Grace stares at Angus, her vision clouded with tears. Tremors rack her body; she’s barely able to speak. “Is D-Daddy really here?”
Angus nods, looking up at Jude with a smile. Grace follows his vision and gasps. “I m-miss you, Jude.” It’s the first time I think she’s spoken to him aloud. Whether she believes Angus or not, I don’t know, but she appears to need this comfort.
He steps forward, his footsteps creaking along the floorboards. With the most delicate of touches, he runs his fingers an inch away from her cheek. Her mouth falls open. She feels him. “I miss you, too…little monkey.”
Tears roll down my cheeks. This nickname appears to be a special one, one that Jude called his sister, and now his sister is calling his son. She’s keeping his memory alive. Angus runs over to Grace, hugging her tight. Jude watches with nothing but melancholy in his eyes.
We stay quiet for minutes, the realization of what is about to happen settling in. I know what Jude is doing. This is the first time in months he’s spoken to Grace. He’s doing so because he’s tying up loose ends. He’s saying goodbye.
A sharp pain suddenly kicks me in the chest, and I wheeze, falling back onto the mattress. “Victoria!” Jude bellows, running over and scooping me into his arms.
I can’t breathe.
Air escapes me, and I feel like I’m seconds away from passing out. Lights flash before my eyes, and I smell…iodoform. “Tori, please, breathe. Not yet,” Jude begs, kissing my temple, my eyes, my lips. His touch overrides the wave bound to drag me under, and in seconds, I’m gulping down three deep breaths.
“What’s happening?” I ask, unable to keep the tremble from my voice.
Jude’s silence reveals he knows, but he’s not going to tell me until it’s time.
The car ride into town is silent, and for once, I don’t mind.
After guzzling three bottles of Gatorade, I feel remotely better, but I know it will be short-lived. Jude won’t tell me what happened when I almost blacked out, but I have a feeling I’m hours away from finding out.
Jude parks his truck in a no-standing zone. Looking up at the sign, I say, “You can’t park here.” Jude smiles sadly. It’s easy to forget we’re not actually here.
The thought has me wondering. “When did you know you were…?”
“Dead?” Jude fills in the blanks. I nod, chewing my lip. “I knew right away.”
As we step out onto the sidewalk and see Henry marching up the stairs in a tuxedo, I suppose Jude is right. “You ready to do this?”
He wraps an arm around me, drawing me into his side. “Yes. It’s now or never, right?” Jude kisses my brow in response, which somehow makes me feel worse.
The lavish ballroom is decorated quite elegantly and packed full of men and women in uniform. Although chatter fills the air, a sense of sadness dominates the tone because the reason for this gathering is not a happy one. That fact is confirmed by the large screen which sits behind the lectern on stage.
Sheriff Sands’ photograph is the main focus, sitting dead center, reminding everyone why they are here. Regardless of the fact that Henry may have been an ass, he seems to have been loved by many. As Jude and I walk around the room, we hear many people talk about Henry and what a great man he was. His colleagues, no doubt, admire him, and his absence is definitely felt throughout the room.
Jude holds my hand and navigates me until we locate Henry. He’s standing by a middle-aged man who seems to have captivated the crowd around him. We stop a few feet away, remaining hidden as I know Jude wants to work this slow.
The uniformed men and women laugh at something he says. Henry joins in also, but I can see he’s out of sorts. An older gentleman with hair the color of snow slaps the man on the arm lightheartedly. “Make sure you go easy on me, Sheriff, I’m an old man. I can’t tee off like I used to.”
Henry laughs, straightening his tie, but he knows this comment isn’t directed his way. He replies anyway. “Old? Lieutenant Holms, you’re nothing of the sort.”
The sheriff smiles, appearing to have settled into Henry’s role quite well. “You’re lucky I’m a charitable man.”
I lean into Jude’s side, feeling incredibly sad for Henry. He surely knows something isn’t right, but he’s too stubborn to accept the truth. But so am I. No one can blame Henry for living in denial because the alternative is just too hard to digest. My chest begins to ache once more, but I quash down the pain, not wanting Jude to know.
He leads me over to a table at the back of the room, and we sit, anxiously waiting for this night to get underway. My knee bounces, and I’m unable to sit still because the only thing I can think is what happens next. Whether Henry believes us or not, there are roughly twelve hours until my time is up. Until I’m doomed to choose where I belong.
“Are you all right?”
Gazing around at my current surroundings, at the people who will never know my name, never know my story, I know the answer is no. I will never be all right again.
A silence pervades the air, alerting us that it’s time. We both watch as the audience takes their seats, and the sheriff climbs the stairs to stand behind the lectern. I can just make out where Henry sits, surrounded by colleagues who don’t even know he’s there.
The sheriff looks out into the crowd, waiting for silence, and it doesn’t take long until he has the floor. Clearing his throat once, he turns and looks at the image of Henry in uniform behind him. “We’re here tonight to honor our fallen brother, Sheriff Henry Sands.”
I sigh, knowing this is not going to end well.
“I never had the pleasure of working alongside Sheriff Sands, but I know from the many stories you’ve all been kind enough to share that he was a good man. Sheriff Sands loved being a policeman, that much is clear. He dedicated his life to the force, ensuring the townsfolk could come home to a safe and protected community.” He takes a moment, meeting the eyes of the crowd. “He died protecting his community, and for that, we will never forget the sacrifice he made. So tonight isn’t about remembering Sheriff Sands’ death, it’s about honoring his life.”
The room is deathly still, and when I look at Henry, I can see that that stillness has overcome him. He is unmoving, his mind no doubt processing everything he’s just heard. But nothing prepares us all for what the sheriff has to say.
“There is no better person to honor Sheriff Sands’ life than his wife, Jillian Sands.”
The crowd claps vociferously as the sheriff steps down from the podium and walks over to the corner of the stage. He pulls back the red curtain to reveal a frail-looking Jillian standing alone, just off stage left. I latch onto Jude’s hand, frightened. Henry stands but remains frozen.
We watch as Jillian fearfully peers out into the crowd, her eyes darting nervously around the room. The sheriff whispers something into her ear, which has her holding back her tears. When she takes a small step forward, she’s greeted with a standing ovation. The sight seems to give her the confidence she needs.
She looks fragile standing behind the podium, her hands fluttering as she shuffles her cue cards. The audience takes a moment to settle, but when they do, each and every one of them gives their undivided attention to Jillian.
She adjusts the microphone to suit her small frame. “T-thank you everyone for coming tonight.” She takes
a deep breath. Her hands tremble so badly, the cue cards fall from her grip.
The shine from the sheriff’s shoes catch the bright lights as he saunters across the stage to pick up Jillian’s cards. She accepts them, wiping away her tears.
“I had a speech planned, but things always sound so much better in your head than they do aloud.” I nod, understanding her completely. “If Henry were here…I know he’d be overwhelmed. Henry may have been a hard man, but he was my man.” She chokes down her tears. “He was far from perfect, and he knew that, but in the end, he always tried to do what was right.”
I remember seeing Jude’s death through his eyes. No matter what a hardnosed bastard Henry is, there is still a layer of good buried underneath his firm exterior. He may not remember it, but when push came to shove, he was there for Jude. He could have left him for dead, but he tried his best to save him, to save us both.
This is the reason Jude is so unrelenting. He wants to help Henry because Henry helped him. Once the scores are settled…I know what happens then.
“My Henry would have been so grateful to see you all here. I want to say so many things, but let us just remember him in our own way. Thank you for remembering the man he was.”
The audience stands, clapping and cheering at full volume. Jillian turns and sobs into her palms when she sees photographs of Henry flick across the screen. When the final picture of Henry in full uniform comes to a standstill, the entire room raises their hands to give the sheriff his final salute goodbye.
The entire time, I couldn’t bear to watch Henry, as his reaction would most likely leave me in tears. But now I know I must because this is where it begins. The moment I see him, I can see he now believes, but the question is, what is he going to do now that he knows?
Jude stands tall beside me, his towering height alerting Henry to our presence. My insides squirm when Henry locks eyes with Jude. “What happens now?” I ask, unable to move.
“We wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Jude waits a hair’s breadth before pointing. “That.”
Henry storms over to us, pushing anybody who stands in his way. Of course, there is no one there, but he does so nonetheless. When he reaches us, he doesn’t hesitate and swings wide, intent on hitting Jude in the jaw.
Jude doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t even move because Henry’s fist passes straight through him. The sight makes me gasp, as I’ve never seen anything so surreal before. Every time Jude and I have touched, I’ve felt him, so I can’t imagine what thoughts are racing around Henry’s mind.
“What the―?” he admonishes, looking down at his clenched fist.
“Stop,” Jude scolds, standing proud with his hands folded across his chest. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“You’ve done this. All of this,” Henry persists, desperately clutching at straws.
“No, Henry, this is all you. This is your fantasy.” Jude circles two fingers around the room. “You’re dead. We both are. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can move on.”
“You’re crazy. You both are.”
Just as he attempts to lunge at Jude again, I step forward, blocking his flight path. I’m too quick, and he ends up falling straight through me and onto his ass. A small shiver passes over me. “Henry, stop it. Jude is right. Look around you. You’re the guest of honor because this gala is in memory of you. You died nine months ago.”
“No.” He stubbornly shakes his head.
Looking down at him, I offer him my hand. “If you don’t believe me, then believe Jillian.”
Those magical words seem to be the key because something in his demeanor unlocks. He peers up at the stage where his picture still sits, watching Jillian talk to the new sheriff as he shakes her hand. She dabs at the corner of her red eyes with a white handkerchief, looking exactly what she is: a grieving widow.
Jude and I may not be able to convince Henry, but I know Jillian can. He blinks once, then twice, and I witness the moment he sees the world under the layer he’s built. “Look, really look and listen to what’s happening around you.” I keep as calm as I can, considering my circumstances.
Henry, still on the floor, peers slowly from left to right. At first, he sees the world through Henry-tinted glasses, but I recognize the moment things become clear. He gasps, shaking his head quickly.
“No, it can’t be.”
I don’t speak. I allow him time to absorb the world because he’s seeing it for the first time in months. He snaps his head my way, desperation and helplessness marring his soul. “This is really happening?”
I nod, saddened by his pain. “Yes, Henry. I’m so very sorry.” My words can never reflect the sorrow I feel. Offering him my hand once more, I hope that instead of words, maybe he can touch my grief.
With apprehensive fingers, I hold my breath as he extends his arm forward and hesitantly slips his fingers into mine. The moment we touch, however, something unexpected happens. The room begins to spin, and all the voices around us get sucked into a spiraling whirlpool of colors. A chill passes over me. I cover my mouth, certain I’m seconds away from being sick. Before I can blink, we’re standing in a bedroom I’ve never seen before.
It takes a moment to find my feet, but when I do, I instantly look for Jude. I exhale when he’s standing behind me. “What’s going on?” I ask, swallowing down my nausea.
His lips pull into a thin line. “We’re running out of time. The clock has somehow fast-forwarded to this.” He doesn’t need to elaborate.
“Where are we?” I ask.
Henry answers for me. “We’re in my bedroom.”
Floral wallpaper gives the room a feminine feel, not what you’d expect to see adorning the bedroom of the town’s sheriff. But peering around, I see this entire room is garnished with girly trinkets and pastel pinks.
“This is Jill’s favorite room,” he reveals as if reading my thoughts. “She would spend hours decorating, wanting to make our house a home. I hated that blanket, but Jillian, she loved it.”
His eyes fall to the center of the bed where a delicate Jillian lays, curled into a ball as she sobs into her hands. She’s still in the same black dress she wore to the ball. Her heels sit at the foot of the bed where she stepped out of them and collapsed…how many hours ago, I don’t know.
The diamond in her wedding ring snares the glow from the lamp, highlighting her ubiquitous devotion to Henry. Her tears are guttural, coming from deep within. Anyone with a heart can’t help but cry with her.
“What, what’s the matter with her?” Henry asks, his voice broken. Numerous bottles of pills are strewn on her bedside table.
“You need to let her go,” Jude replies, his jaw firm.
“Let her go?” Henry doesn’t conceal his dismay. “But I can’t. I love her.” He holds vigil by Jillian’s bedside, examining his wife with tears in his distinctive, hard eyes.
Jude looks at me as he rests against the wall. “All the more reason to let her go.”
We’re all silent, lost in thought as this moment touches each of us in a different way. “Henry,” Jillian weeps. Henry jolts, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “I can still feel you. Hear you. I think I’m going crazy. I miss you and Rose so much.” Henry holds his breath. “This world is full of suffering. Maybe it’s my turn to end the pain.”
The lamp bulb flickers, sending a chill down my spine.
“No, Jill, I’m here!” Henry cries. But that’s the problem. He’s not. None of us are. We’re voyagers on a journey, using this, wherever this is, as our pit stop.
He sits by her side, stroking her cheek with nothing but love. She sniffs, closing her eyes, his touch appearing to comfort her. “Please, Henry, if you’re here…please, let me go. I can’t go on living this way. I feel so empty inside.”
Henry lowers his chin. “I can’t let go,” he whispers. “If I do, it’ll mean goodbye. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
His pain cuts me deep because it’s exactly how I
feel. No one wants to say goodbye. Hoping I’m not out of line, I gently walk to where he rests and place my hand on his shoulder. “In the words of someone pretty remarkable, your grandson, it’s not goodbye, it’s good night.”
Jude inhales painfully.
Henry turns over his shoulder and looks at me, really looks at me. This is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do in his life, but love is about sacrifice and putting the person you care about first—that’s true love in its purest form.
He nods.
I give him space because I understand how he feels.
Jillian’s sniffles assail her fragile body, the sight visibly tearing her into two. Henry lowers his body and spoons her from behind. I can imagine this is the way they slept, him protecting her and using his body as her shield. “I’m sorry, Jill. I truly am. I never deserved you. You were always too good for the likes of me. Your kindness made me want to be a better man.” He shuffles closer, securing his arm tightly around her. “I’m sorry for so many things. I’m sorry for blaming you when Rose left. It was no one’s fault. It was Rose’s decision to leave. I see that now.”
Jude blows out a silent breath. It’s the reprieve he’s been looking for.
“I wish I could have told you how much you meant to me because I loved you every day of my life. I may not have shown you, but I did.” He sniffs back his tears.
“But most of all, I’m sorry for not being the man you deserved. I failed you in life, but I won’t do so in…death. I’ll let you go, Jillian. Live your life and be happy. That’s all I want for you. Live the life I couldn’t live. I love you. Take good care of our grandson.”
I want to stand by Jude, but I can’t. I know the moment I do, I will latch on and never let go. We watch as Henry lays a soft kiss on Jillian’s cheek before rising and wiping away his tears.
He stands, unfastening his bow tie and unbuttoning the top button on his shirt. “So what happens now?” He’s attempting to be strong, but that speech was heartfelt.