Best of Luck Elsewhere

by Trisha Haddad

  I placed my palm against his headstone, touching the engraved words. Sharif Tahan. Devoted husband and father.

  I suddenly thought of my mom. Her husband had been taken from her in their prime, leaving her with two teenage daughters demanding answers about how this could happen to their family. She’d had to deal with our grief on top of her own.

  When our family’s world fell apart, I became a weak version of my previous self, a person more likely to complain and panic than actually take care of herself. My sister withdrew into herself, and shortly after she gained control over her life, she began a violent crusade to keep her remaining family safe.

  When my mom’s world fell apart, she mourned. Grieved. Yet did the job of mother and father to finish raising Cleo and me. And when she was done with that, she moved on, to mothering the world. She was being a role model as to how to honor Dad, but we hadn’t seen it.

  She could have taken my path. She could have taken Cleo’s path. But she didn’t.

  And Cleo and I didn’t take her path.

  I got up, trying to minimize the pain. I brushed the grass off my pants and asked, “What do I do now, Dad? Cleo’s in a lot of trouble, and I can’t do anything about her legal issues. So how do I help her get better? Go on with working out my own problems while she works on hers? Support her as best I can by doing whatever she needs me to do while she’s serving her time? Making sure they’re helping her, instead of just punishing her? Be there to support her when she gets out? If she gets out?”

  Yes.

  This confident answer was not from beyond the grave. It was from inside me. And I now knew my part in helping my sister was the same as my part in honoring my dad.

  My part was to continue living life.

  EPILOGUE

  Adam wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly now that I’d had several months to completely heal. “Still don’t know when you’ll be back?” he asked.

  Around us, people shook hands with associates, hugged relatives, rushed with their luggage into San Diego International Airport. Others fumbled outside into the sun after flights, scanning the loading zone for rides. Next to me on the ground sat a piece of rolling luggage, cerulean blue, and the backpack I’d brought to Greece.

  “The return ticket is open-ended. I won’t be too long, though. If anything, I’ll be rushing back just to see you, Adam.”

  “I know I should say not to rush, especially since this is the first time you’ll be visiting your mom in Botswana. But I’m going to miss you.” He leaned in for a delicious kiss. When he pulled back, I looked deep into his midnight eyes.

  “I’ll miss you, too. And I’m sure I want to be with you.”

  “And I’m sure I’ll be waiting for you when you get back. Ready to be part of this new life you’re starting.”

  When I pulled out of Adam’s arms, gathered my things, and turned toward the glass doors of the airport, I watched his reflection. As much as I was looking forward to my adventure, I knew that it would not be long until I began to long for Adam Mestas again.

  I inhaled deeply, a breath full of crisp ocean air.

  This adventure to Botswana to see Mom isn’t meant to change me, I thought as the automatic door slid open for me, the reflection of the handsome Adam Mestas. The real adventure will be when I come home…to his arms.

  I turned once, smiled in response to his wave, and without hesitation walked through the open door.

  About the Author

  Trisha Haddad is a writer in her twenties living in San Diego. She began a career in the publishing industry directly out of college, first at a literary agency and currently in academic publishing. Her passions include writing, reading, travel and spending time with her husband and best friend, Derek. Her life as a writer has been inspired from childhood by her grandmother, Helen Haddad, a mystery writer. Best of Luck Elsewhere is Trisha’s first published work of fiction.