Salvaged: A Love Story

by Stefne Miller

  “Well, that sucks,” Riley admitted.

  “Nicole said that you called out for your mom and Melody. You didn’t say anything more than that. She would have had to let it continue to see if you’d say anything else, but she couldn’t bring herself to let it go on.”

  “I’ve never heard her say anything else other than ‘where are you?’” Riley added.

  “Hmm. I don’t know what’s going on.” I could hear the confusion in Joshua’s voice. “Nicole did say that when she and the girls prayed for you that you relaxed and fell right back to sleep. You never woke up again.”

  “I do that a lot too,” Riley informed him.

  “Attie, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know why they aren’t getting any better, but I won’t give up if you don’t,” Joshua said.

  “What choice do I have?” I asked. “I don’t want them to continue, and it’s not like I haven’t tried everything I can think of to make them go away.”

  Joshua stood to go. “We’ll talk more about this when you come over Tuesday. Don’t forget we have DLT.”

  “DLT?” Riley asked.

  “Driver’s License Therapy. We’re getting her a driver’s license before school starts.”

  Riley laughed. “Well, good luck with all that.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said.

  “Whoa now. I wasn’t laughing at the idea of you getting a license. I was laughing at the thought of ‘Driver’s License Therapy.’ It sounded funny.” His face turned toward mine. “Trust me, I have every confidence that you’ll get your license.”

  “Nice recovery,” I teased before giving my attention back to Joshua. “Hey, Josh, please tell Nicole I said thank you.”

  “I will. She’s already at home. She left a while ago to go back to bed. She said she didn’t get much sleep.”

  “I have that effect on people. Look at poor Riley; he looks exhausted.”

  “Well, Riley should have slept fine last night. So, if he didn’t get any sleep, he can’t blame that on you.”

  “I think he couldn’t sleep because he wasn’t here. He probably worried.”

  “Why are you two talking about me like I’m not in the room?”

  “Sorry.” Joshua laughed. “So why didn’t you get any sleep last night?”

  “Charlie got it right. I worried.”

  “He’s a hopeless case, Josh.”

  “I can see that. I think you two will be keeping me pretty busy. I’ll clear my calendar.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you kids later. Stay out of trouble.”

  I listened to his footsteps make their way down the stairs before rolling over onto my side. Riley did the same.

  “I’m sorry you were so worried that you couldn’t get any sleep.”

  “Thanks, but I wasn’t totally honest with him.”

  “Oh?”

  “It is true that I did worry about you. But I think I missed you more than worried about you. We haven’t spent a night apart since you moved in, and I’ve gotten used to having you next to me.”

  “So you can’t sleep with me and you can’t sleep without me?”

  He laughed. “Exactly.”

  “You do look tired.”

  “I am.”

  “I’ll leave you alone so you can take a nap.”

  As I sat up to leave, Riley grabbed my arm. “Why don’t you take a nap with me?”

  “We’re going to have to start getting used to sleeping apart. We can’t sleep together forever.”

  “Why not?”

  “You gonna marry me, Riley?”

  His eyes widened, and his mouth opened in a slight smile. “Is that a proposal?”

  “No.”

  The smile disappeared. “Bummer. Look, all I know is that for right now, as long as you’re having the nightmares, where you sleep will be where I sleep.”

  “Have you forgotten that I’ll be moving out at the end of summer? What if my nightmares aren’t over by then?”

  “I don’t wanna think about that.”

  “Me either.”

  Slowly, each of the girls came up, packed up their belongings, said their good-byes, and headed home. The mood was somber due to the previous night and the knowledge that today would be an additionally difficult day.

  I took a shower and got dressed before walking into Riley’s room, and lying on his bed, I watched as he packed his sketching materials into their case.

  “You going somewhere?”

  “We’re going somewhere,” he informed me.

  “We are?”

  “Yep. Get your shoes on and let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as I headed toward my room.

  “I’m not telling.”

  “Am I going to like it?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  chapter 18

  (Riley)

  Attie’s face went grim, and her body turned to stone.

  “No, Riley. Take me home.” Her head shook vigorously. “Take me home right now.”

  I turned to her, took her hand, and started to kiss her wrist, but she yanked it away from me.

  Refusing to look at me, she stared blankly out the window. “Take me home!”

  “You need to do this, Charlie. You can’t move on until you do.”

  “I can’t believe you would bring me here without asking.” Anger filled her face. I was sure she felt as though she’d been sabotaged.

  “I’m right here with you. You’ll be all right.” I got out of the car and grabbed my sketching supplies and the flowers that I’d purchased while she was in the shower.

  Attie didn’t move to get out of the car, so I opened the door for her.

  “Riley,” she whispered, “I’m not ready to do this. If you care about me at all, you’ll climb back in the car and take me home.”

  I squatted down in front of her. “Please don’t doubt my feelings for you; it’s not fair. I’m trying to help.” Her eyes finally met mine. “It’s because I care about you that I brought you here. You’ve gotta understand that.”

  “Please, please take me home.” Her hand grabbed my shirt and held it in a tight grip. “I’m begging you.”

  “Come on, it’s time. It’s time to say good-bye.” As she released her grip, I turned and slowly walked away.

  After several moments the door shut and footprints followed behind me as I made my way down the path to my first destination.

  Attie hovered several feet away as she watched me unpack my charcoals and remove a clean piece of paper from my sketchbook. I placed the paper onto the granite and rubbed the surface. Slowly, the impression began to reveal itself.

  Melody Lizbeth Bennett

  May 1, 1991—June 9, 2007

  Sixteen short years on earth.

  An eternity in heaven.

  We love and miss you.

  Dad, Mom, and Riley

  I carefully placed the rubbing back into my sketchbook and sat on the ground to wait for Attie to join me.

  Other than the occasional sound of her footsteps, the graveyard was completely silent. Her presence came closer and closer as I waited.

  Finally, after more than half an hour, she sat down beside me.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It took months of visiting Melody’s grave before I could come and not have some sort of physical response. The first time I saw her gravestone I threw up.”

  Attie rested her head on my shoulder and sighed.

  “Seeing her name carved in granite was a shock, and I think it c
onfirmed that she wasn’t coming home—ever. She was gone. Somehow, seeing the words in stone and the realization that her body was below my feet … I don’t know, it was overwhelming.”

  We sat in silence for several more minutes before I spoke again.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Part of me is thinking this isn’t real—it isn’t happening. Like, maybe it’s a really bad dream and eventually I’m going to wake up and Melody and my mom will still be alive.

  “Another part of me wishes it would have been me instead of them … I would give anything for that. I look at my life and what it’s become and I can’t figure out why God just didn’t take me instead or if he was going to take them why he didn’t just take me too. Sometimes I think surviving is far worse than death would have been.

  “I’m ashamed, because when I should be sitting here having memories of how wonderful they were, all I can think about is myself and how jealous I am that their pain ended instantly and mine’s gone on day after day.

  “They’re in a happy place where they feel no pain and they never experience fear or judgment or rejection or loneliness or shame. Sometimes I want to be in that place. I want to be where they are.

  “I knew every time I looked at my dad that he wished he was seeing my mother instead of me, and I know that for every moment that your mom is happy to be having girl time with me she has a million moments where she wishes Melody was here to have that time with. It’s hard to know that deep down inside, whether anyone will admit it or not, they’d prefer for me to be the one in the ground. If they were honest with themselves—if you were honest with yourself, you’d agree that it would have been better for everyone if my name would have ended up being the one in stone instead of theirs.”

  “That’s not true,” I said.

  “It is. No matter how much fun your mother and I have together, I can’t replace what she’s lost. I can’t fill for her what she so desperately needs filled. I can’t give my dad back the woman he loved since high school. Or you—I can’t give you your sister back, and I can’t replace what she was to you or the bond that you shared.”

  “Look at me.” I pulled away from her and grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her face was drenched in tears. “You’re carrying a burden that you shouldn’t. It’s too much; you’re killing yourself. It isn’t your responsibility to try to replace your mom or Melody, and we don’t have you in our lives to act as a substitute for someone else. We didn’t bring you here because we were hoping that we could somehow have a knockoff version of Melody running around. We wanted you to live with us because we love you and because you’re our family. Yes, we wish all of you were here, but we never wish that they were here and you weren’t.”

  She shook her head in defiance.

  “Hear me, Charlie. Do I miss my sister? Yes, desperately. But I have never looked at you and wished that I were seeing my sister instead—never.

  “You’re gonna have to stop beating yourself up about living, and you’re gonna have to realize that it isn’t your job to try to replace what’s gone. It’s not your responsibility to try to be everything to everyone. You can’t heal us. You can’t take that pain away. You can help and you can add some life and joy where otherwise there wasn’t as much, but you can’t make everything better. Only God can do that. You’re placing expectations on yourself that just aren’t fair, and you’re placing thoughts and accusations on people that don’t belong there.

  “Your life isn’t less valuable than theirs were.”

  “I wish I believed that,” she said.

  “Let it go, Charlie. Let them go and let God show you why you’re still here. Let him be the one that convinces you of just how valuable you really are. No matter how crazy I am about you, I’ll never be able to convince you of that. Only he can do it.”

  She looked over at Melody’s grave for several moments before I placed my hands on either side of her face and turned her back to me. “Gosh, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, the way my parents and your friends do. If you knew how special you really are, there’s no way you’d ever doubt why you survived.”

  Tears filled her eyes again.

  “Other than my Gramps, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m not saying all this to be nice; I’m saying it because it’s true.”

  Gently pulling her head my direction as I leaned toward her, I bent over and kissed her on the forehead.

  “I’m gonna visit your mom’s grave.” I stood up, collected my supplies, and handed her some flowers.

  “Come meet me when you’re ready.”

  Walking up to Mrs. Reed’s headstone, I took out another clean piece of paper and made a rubbing of the granite.

  Elizabeth Catherine Reed

  April 12, 1970—June 9, 2007

  Amazing wife to Eddie,

  loving mother to Attie,

  great friend to many.

  After several minutes, noticing Attie standing a few feet away, I collected my supplies again. Walking up to her, I handed her the remaining flowers and noticed her face was wet with tears.

  “I’ll wait in the car.”

  She wrung her hands. “Won’t you stay with me?”

  I kissed her on the forehead. “No, Charlie, you need to do this alone.”

  I made my way to the car, put my supplies into the backseat, and then sat on the bumper waiting for Attie. My heart ached for her, and I prayed that the time spent at her mother’s grave wouldn’t be too painful for her to bear.

  When she still hadn’t returned after more than half an hour, I went to check on her and found her sitting on the ground with her cheek pressed to her mother’s headstone. She’d curled in a ball as if she tried to crawl into her mother’s lap. My heart broke.

  “I miss her,” she whispered as she heard me approach.

  I sat down next to her. “I know.”

  Slowly, she reached out her hand, wrapped her pinkie around mine, and gave me a small smile. “Thank you for this and for being so good to me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She closed her eyes and we sat, pinkies entwined and without speaking, until she was ready to leave.

  When we stood to go, she leaned over and placed the flowers in front of the headstone. “Good-bye, Mom,” she whispered. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Visiting Mrs. Reed and Melody’s graves had obviously been an emotionally draining experience for Attie. As soon as she climbed into the car, she laid back in her seat and didn’t speak until we were walking through our front door.

  “What are you going to do with the rubbings?” she asked.

  “Follow me.”

  I led her into her room and removed one of the empty frames from the wall.

  Hearing her make a light gasping noise, I turned to face her. “Is this all right?”

  She nodded her head and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

  Walking to the wall she removed another empty frame. We placed the charcoal rubbings into their new homes and placed them back onto the wall before standing back to admire our work.

  “I don’t know, Riley; the wall is still missing something.”

  “What?”

  “It needs a picture of the two of us.”

  “Funny you should say that.” Giving her a grin, I reached into my sketchbook and pulled out a picture I’d drawn after getting home and waiting for her to wake up that morning.

  “It’s us!” She grabbed it out of my hands. “And it’s perfect.”

  “I love it,” I admitted. Of course it was the picture I’d been imagining in my mind for months. “Tammy took the picture with my phone yesterday.”

  She smiled at it and then turned her attention to the
wall and back to the picture in her hands. She glanced back and forth several times before looking at me with a shocked expression on her face.

  “Charlie, what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “What is it?”

  “I just remembered what made my dad and I laugh when we were getting our picture taken.”

  The mystery was about to reveal itself, and I couldn’t wait to hear. “What?”

  “The photographer told my dad to take a good, long look at me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because before long I would no longer have eyes for my dad; only a special boy would grab my attention.”

  chapter 19

  (Attie)

  I made my way into the vet clinic ready to get to work and put yesterday behind me. Finally the anniversary passed, and I’d survived what I’d feared would be my worst day since the accident.

  The Bennetts kept it a very low profile evening. Marme made chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes and cream gravy, which were my favorites, and we finished the night watching Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. It was Molly Ringwald night, and it felt good to see high school life through the eyes of someone different for a change.

  If Riley and I had believed the nightmares would leave after visiting the graves, we’d thought wrong. Only a few hours after we fell asleep, the monsters came out of hiding.

  “Gramps, I’m here!”

  “Great, Atticus. I’m in the back.”

  I stopped by the reception desk to put my purse in the file cabinet and realized that I heard another voice. I listened carefully.

  It was a male voice, and it sounded somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

  I grabbed Baby’s sling off the back of my chair and headed toward the back.

  “See here? Notice the very limited range of motion … ”

  There stood Cooper Truman; he wore a white lab coat and stood next to my Gramps as he worked on a Schnauzer.

  As the boy noticed my arrival, a large smile formed across his face, revealing his annoyingly white teeth. They practically blinded me. “Hello, Attie!”