When I'm Gone

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When I'm Gone Page 8

by Jaxson Kidman

Maria laughed. “Yeah, sure. Got any more of that coffee?”

  “Of course I do. Let me get you a cup.”

  “I’ve got it. I need to get up.”

  Maria kicked off the blankets and slowly stood up. She yawned, stretched, groaned, and shuffled her feet along the carpet.

  I looked at the couch and bit my lip. The messy blankets. The pillow with the indent of Maria’s head. The smell of sleep that lingered.

  It could have been Kace.

  It should have been Kace.

  Then again, if Kace had stayed…

  Maria appeared again, sipping her coffee. “Do you get the paper?”

  “What?”

  “The newspaper? Do you get it?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I heard something.”

  “You heard something?”

  Maria nodded. “Like something or someone at the door.”

  “Did you check it?” I asked.

  “No. I fell back asleep. I figured it was the newspaper.”

  “No, Maria, I don’t get the newspaper.”

  I leaned forward and put my coffee mug on the table and eyed the door.

  “I don’t know then,” she said. “Maybe I was dreaming. But I swore I heard a gentle thud.”

  “It’s an apartment building,” I said. “Someone probably slammed their door.”

  “No,” Maria said. “This hit your door.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll check for the boogeyman.”

  “I thought the boogeyman lived under your bed?”

  I put my hand on the deadbolt and twisted it open. “No. When you’re an adult, the boogeyman comes to your front door. And he’s holding the electric bill, car insurance bill, and a notice from the management company that your rent is going up next year.”

  “Shudders,” Maria said and cringed. “Life was easier when I thought a monster was going to chew my limbs off.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Wow. That’s a violent image.”

  Maria shrugged her shoulders.

  I opened the apartment door and there was no newspaper waiting. And there was no boogeyman waiting either.

  But there was something waiting.

  I crouched and opened the flap of a box. There was a piece of paper on top, folded in half.

  A handwritten note.

  I didn’t need to open it to know who it was from. And certainly not once I looked in the box and saw what was waiting.

  Sienna -

  Figured at the very least, I owe you this. You have my number if you need anything. Please stay away from rooftops. If you do that, I’ll stay away from that piece of shit house. So we both can move forward in life. Deal?

  Kace

  I folded the paper and felt my heart jump up into my throat.

  “Hey, what is it?” Maria asked from inside the apartment.

  “It’s a boombox,” I said.

  “What?”

  I lifted the boombox out of the box and turned to show it to Maria. “It’s a boombox. To replace yours. Since it fell off that roof and got destroyed.”

  “Who the hell sent that?”

  “Someone,” I said.

  I was only able to mutter that one word. My throat clenched for a second. I felt like I could cry. But I swallowed it down.

  Maria was excited to have a new boombox.

  I wasn’t sure what I felt though.

  Everything seemed to have come full circle with Kace now.

  Although… things between myself and Kace were just getting started.

  Chapter Seven

  A Cover Up Kind of Love

  Kace

  I was maybe thirty feet in the air, sitting on a roof, eating a ham and cheese sandwich, with a bottle of some kind of red energy drink next to me. It was a beautiful day outside. Crystal clear blue skies, no clouds, not too warm. But I was still sweating. How the hell Mack talked me into taking this job with him I wasn’t sure, but the money was nice and it sort of fit into what I enjoyed to do in life.

  The house was almost seventy years old and needed the TLC. The man who lived there - a guy named Thomas - had died a month ago. His two kids were scrambling to get the house fixed up to sell. There was a laundry list of things that needed to be done. Some of it major, like parts of the house that were wired improperly, to some minor projects like me touching up the paint on the exterior of the house. It had a beautiful custom trim along the roofs. The wood was chipped and beaten up pretty badly, but I was able to salvage all of it with some care and a fresh coat of white paint.

  Being around the house was weird. Learning about the guy and his life. That he met his wife at eighteen, went into the military and was a decorated war hero. He had a son and a daughter and they were grown with kids and grandkids of their own. His wife had passed ten years earlier from cancer and he refused to downsize the house because it was the only place he knew as home. There was an overwhelming sense of family, and they really didn’t want to give up the house. But the kids lived in different states and had families of their own.

  I appreciated the work and hoped that when it was all said and done, a new family would move into the house and live there for their entire lives. That was just what time did. The ups and downs of a family.

  I heard the metal thudding of the ladder and Mack’s head popped up as he climbed up onto the roof. He had a blue cooler in his hand and tossed it up to the roof to join me for a break. Which I didn’t ask him to do.

  “Nice day, huh?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s crazy down there.”

  “Family?”

  “Yeah. Someone is interested in the house. The daughter just lost it. Started crying and shit. It’s hitting her hard that the house is going. There’s the doorway from the kitchen that needs to get refinished. But it has all the markings from the kids growing up. She sort of freaked out on me. If I clean up…”

  “Don’t clean it up,” I said.

  “We have to, man. It’s time to hand it all over. New memories.”

  “I can cut that piece of the wood out,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I’ll cut it out and preserve it for her.”

  “That’s not in the budget.”

  “Then don’t pay me,” I said.

  “Kace…”

  “This is all they’ve known in their life. They probably looked at their father as invincible. How many times do you think they thought about coming to visit, but didn’t? Now they’d give anything to see him one more time.”

  “Jesus,” Mack said. He swallowed hard. “You trying to make me cry now?”

  “What’s it going to cost for that? Honestly. Make a clean cut, take that piece out and replace it. Hell, when the new people show up, tell them that’s what we did. They’ll appreciate it. Then they can continue the tradition.”

  I tossed my sandwich into my bag and slowly stood up.

  I looked down at Mack.

  “Did you have that in your house, Kace?” Mack asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Right,” he said. “We’ll make sure that happens for her. That’s a great idea.”

  “Those are the only ones I have.”

  Mack laughed.

  I swung my leg over the ladder to climb down.

  “Hey, Kace. You’ve been working a lot with me lately. I don’t think you’ve done a project for yourself in months.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Why not?”

  “Maybe I haven’t found the right project.”

  “You were kind of happy a while ago. You mentioned something about some woman and then…”

  “I am where I am, Mack.”

  “Working with me. Does that mean we’re in business together?”

  “No. As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m working for you.”

  Mack grinned. “Yeah you are. You’re my bitch.”

  “You say that ever again and I’ll put you in a wall.”

  “You remember my idea of us
having a business together?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe we can make that happen,” he said.

  “Why? What’s the difference between that and what we’re doing now?”

  Mack frowned. “I don’t know, man. I’m just trying to help you out. You seem-”

  “Don’t try and fix me, Mack. Don’t look deeper into my shit because you can’t look into yours.”

  Mack gave a wave of defeat and I climbed down the ladder.

  When I got on the ground, I spotted a woman standing in the middle of the yard. She was hugging herself, staring at a large maple tree. Her name was Susan. She was Thomas’s daughter.

  She looked at me and gave a fake smile.

  I nodded. “You okay?”

  “Not really.”

  “I talked to Mack and we’re going to keep those marks on the wood.”

  “No,” she said. “Don’t. I need to let go.”

  “Trust me, we’ll take good care of it. Of everything.”

  “You’re both doing an amazing job. I’m sorry to Mack for the way I’ve been acting.”

  “Don’t be. He can take it. And I’m sure he deserves it.” I smiled.

  Susan smiled. “When I was a little girl, Dad built us a tree fort in that tree. He spent a lot of time and money on it too. There was some show that me and Derek used to watch and we decided we wanted a tree house. Dad always did stuff like that for us.”

  “What happened to it?” I asked, pointing to the empty tree.

  “Nasty thunderstorm took it down,” Susan said. “Then Mom got upset and didn’t trust Dad to build another one. Which I could understand. He was a great man, but he couldn’t build that kind of stuff. It’s a wonder that we didn’t fall out of the tree house when it was there.”

  “Well, I’m glad you have those memories. Even if they hurt right now.”

  “Thanks.”

  Susan went back to staring at the tree and I went back to work.

  At the end of a long day, I climbed into my truck and looked at the house. It was looking good. All the little features that you never paid attention to were my favorites. But with that in mind, it was time to leave.

  I drove my truck back to my place, only to find out that I wasn’t going to be home alone.

  I honestly didn’t intend on breaking anyone’s heart tonight.

  I was foolish when I took Sienna’s advice. The night she got out of my truck and left, I went home and stared at a bottle of whiskey for about two hours straight. I knew the slippery slope that the bottle contained. Whether anyone saw it written on my face or not, the voices inside my head, heart, and soul were always chattering, daring me to start and never stop. Having a drink at a bar was one thing. Slamming a bottle alone at home was a whole other bag.

  That night, I ended up buying Sienna a boombox to replace her friend’s that I broke, and I kept to my word and left her alone. That’s what she wanted and that was what she’d get. It was a pretty dumb decision, but not as dumb as me calling Kylie the next day.

  I opened my apartment door and smelled something good cooking.

  Ironically enough, Kylie was really good at making spaghetti sauce. The smell of the garlic, onions, and tomatoes made my stomach growl with hunger almost instantly.

  I saw something leaning against the dining room table too. A gift wrapped in black paper with a white card attached to it.

  It made me shut my eyes as I swallowed down another heavy dose of guilt. Kylie wasn’t tripping or falling for me. She more or less just dove off the cliff when it came to me. And it wasn’t that I didn’t like her. Or that I didn’t care about her. She was beautiful. She was passionate about what she did. She wasn’t afraid to be herself and let her hair down. She wasn’t worried about putting on makeup to impress me or any of that crap. Truthfully, a guy like me should have been counting the stars at night, thanking them for bringing Kylie into my life. Especially when you thought about the fact that I’d ditched her on our first date to save Sienna’s life. And when I called Kylie, I told her what had happened and she thought I was some kind of a fucking hero.

  But I wasn’t a hero.

  I was an asshole for what I had been doing to her heart.

  “Hey,” she said as she appeared from the kitchen.

  “Hey. What’s this?” I asked and pointed to the gift.

  Kylie had a thing for dates, too. Crazy romantic in her own artist’s heart, she loved to find ways to celebrate everything. We’d been together for almost six months now, and it seemed like every four days there was something to celebrate.

  I’m talking everything.

  I never knew if it was the anniversary of our first kiss or the anniversary of the first time she used the bathroom at my place. She meant well by it all, just showing affection, but it teetered on the border of being a little invasive. Considering I didn’t even celebrate my own goddamn birthday, I didn’t need all of this in my life.

  “Found something for you,” Kylie said. “Had to get it.”

  “Found something, huh?”

  “Yeah. Open it.”

  “This isn’t some weird anniversary, is it?”

  Kylie smiled. She slapped my shoulder. “Stop. Don’t pick on me for liking you.”

  “I’m not picking on anyone,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the four month anniversary of the first time you caught me picking my nose.”

  “Gross,” she said. “And for the record, that was three months and six days ago.”

  “What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.”

  “Ohmygod, Kace. I’m messing with you. Learn to take a joke.”

  I smiled. I slipped my hand around to her back and pulled her toward me. “How was your day, babe?”

  Babe.

  I always called her babe.

  I would normally say darlin’, but that word just didn’t fit Kylie and it never slipped off my tongue. In fact, the last time I used that word…

  “It was a great day,” Kylie said. “Finally had alone time in the studio to just paint whatever I wanted. And my friend Cassie called to see if I was interested in having a gallery with her. It’s all the way in New York though. I don’t know if I’d like it…”

  “Your own gallery?” I asked. “That’s what you’ve talked about since I met you.”

  “I know. But it’s so far away. I mean, I still have to figure out what she wants to do and what to paint. I could probably go out there and visit. Get some inspiration.”

  I nodded. “Whatever makes you happy.”

  “You opening this gift would make me happy right now,” Kylie said.

  “You know I hate this stuff. I don’t do presents.”

  “I know. That’s what makes it more fun. I like watching you squirm.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I swallowed hard.

  My vision of coming home after the day I’d had wasn’t this. It was more or less having some quiet time to digest everything. Think about what I got done and what needed to get done. Have a couple of beers while I sat alone at the table or on the couch. Then I’d get around to giving Kylie a call and making plans. Or we’d just talk on the phone for a little bit. But having her here, already doing so much toward the night.

  “Wait a second,” I said. “How’d you get in here?”

  “I broke a window. Because I’m obsessed with you.”

  She opened her eyes wide and made a goofy face. It made me smile because of the energy and facial comebacks she always had for me.

  “Seriously,” I said.

  “Seriously,” Kylie said in a deep voice. She touched my face. “Did I make you mad with this?”

  “No,” I said, chewing on something that tasted like a lie. “I’m just… wow.”

  “Kace. Do you remember a few weeks ago when I wasn’t feeling good and you let me stay here and left me a key?”

  “Right,” I said. “Were you actually sick or crazy enough to plan something like this for weeks?”

&nbs
p; “That’s for you to find out,” Kylie said.

  “Maybe now you’re freaking me out a little.”

  “Oh well. Open your present.”

  I touched the black wrapped present and lifted it up. I placed it on the table and slid my finger under the corner where it was folded over and taped. I gave it a pull and the paper tore down a few inches.

  “Is that how you open presents?” Kylie asked.

  I looked at her. “What? I don’t know what’s in here. I don’t want to attack it…”

  “Attack it, Kace,” she said.

  I peeled the wrapping paper all the way down and spread it open.

  I stepped back and grinned.

  “It’s not what you think though.”

  “Looks like a shutter.”

  “It is. But it’s not from the house.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “The house?”

  “The Wethen House. You know, the house you’ve talked about since our first date. The one you’ve never taken me to, but always promised you would.”

  I swallowed hard at that realization.

  I’ve never taken her there. In fact, I haven’t been there since… the night…

  “Yeah, they keep it closed up tight,” I said, grasping at the lamest excuse possible.

  “Well, when you finally buy it, you can take me there,” she said. “But… I was out shopping a little and I saw that. There was this little antique shop and that was in the window. I don’t know if the guy ripped me off or not, but I remember you telling me about the shutters at that house. So I saw that and… you know, maybe… you could fix it up and hang it up in here. A reminder of what you really want. I know it’s been a while since you’ve done any work like that.”

  I nodded and looked at the shutter.

  What a thoughtful gift.

  I mean, honestly, what a damn thoughtful gift.

  I put my hand flat against the shutter.

  “Damn,” I whispered.

  “You okay? Are you going to cry? It’s okay if you cry. I won’t judge you. I might laugh a little. But then I’ll make it up to you later in bed.”

  I laughed.

  But it was a short lived laugh.

  Thoughtful… but it was something else.

 

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