by Lindy Zart
Inhaling sharply, she looked around the room, seeing nothing unusual. It was just a room; a room alive with memories, but still, just a room. Sara rubbed her forehead, shaken. She dropped her hands, determination jutting her jaw. She stiffly lay down on the bed, clasping her hands over her stomach, and forced her eyes to close. She hadn’t slept in the bed since he’d left. But she was going to now. Sara relaxed her breaths until they became deep, even, and she slept the dreamless sleep of an exhausted soul.
16
The garage was exactly as he’d left it. The blue Dodge took up half the white-walled building. Tools littered the workbench. Sara’s eyes were gritty, stinging, as they swept over the room he’d spent hours a day in, tinkering with his endless projects. His tool belt hung on the wall by the door. It was a cooler day out and it seeped into the garage and into Sara, causing her to shiver though she wore his hooded black sweatshirt.
She fiddled with the radio near the small refrigerator, finding a country station, her lips unconsciously curving up at the Tim McGraw song. He’d loved Tim McGraw. Remember him before the accident. Remember him with joy, not tears. That was her motto. Sara was trying to smile instead of cry.
Most times she failed, but sometimes, like now, she could remember the love they’d shared before he’d been taken from her instead of the pain she’d lived with in place of him since the accident. She could remember him and not crumble. The hardest feat, the one she hadn’t been able to overcome yet, was saying his name, thinking his name. It was beyond her at this point.
You don’t have to hurt to mourn someone, Mason had said. It made sense, it really did, but it was still too soon for her. She didn’t think it was improbable and that was an improvement. Some day.
He’d been gone over half a year now, though really he’d been gone a lot longer. It had been close to two years since the wreck. It didn’t seem possible that it had been so long ago, and yet, she’d only said goodbye a short six months ago.
Tim crooned about remembering him after he was gone, causing chills to go up and down Sara’s arms. The tears came then and that was no surprise, but the surprise was it didn’t hurt quite as much as it usually did. There was hollowness inside where her love for him had once been. It saddened her that that was what their love had been torn down to.
With a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and pushed the button to open the garage door. The garage door rumbled up, creaking as it went, allowing sunshine and a view of the street in. Sara jiggled the keys in her hand, hauling herself into the cab. It smelled like fresh linen and a fine layer of dust covered the dash.
Sara inhaled and exhaled deeply as she sat in his truck, recollections swirling around her, sucking her into a happier time.
“We’re gonna have a little white ranch-style house ‘cause I’m too lazy to climb stairs. You’re going to plant some pretty flowers.”
“Really? You think so?” Sara grinned as she gazed at the pink and orange sunset from the passenger side window of the truck.
“I know so. We gotta make our residence presentable so we don’t scare possible visitors off.”
“Visitors.” Sara shuddered.
He laughed, deep and low. “You’re right. They’ll interrupt our alone time.”
“Our alone time or the time you’re hoping we’re spending having sex?”
“Same difference.”
The summer day was turning into night, the heat slowly lowering as dusk approached. Sara smiled, enjoying the warm breeze fluttering through her hair from the partially opened window. “And then what?”
“Then, let’s see, two kids?”
She shrugged. “Sure.” Sara glanced at his profile, watching as a slow smile formed to his lips.
“We best get started on that ASAP. That is a prerogative.”
Sara laughed, touching his lips with her index finger. “We can at least wait until after the wedding.” He kissed the tip of her finger, his blue eyes flashing heat at her.
“Right. But there’s no reason we can’t practice our form until then.”
She leaned across the console and planted her lips on his rough cheek, giving him a slobbery kiss. “Love you.”
“Love ya, babe. Even your drool.” He winked, turning his gaze back to the road.
The smile didn’t immediately fade with the memory and Sara was glad of that. She inhaled deeply, almost feeling as if he was sitting beside her, smiling with her.
***
“It’s not Sunday,” she said as she opened the door, cool air rushing into the warmth of the house, causing Sara to shiver.
“I realize that.” Mason’s eyebrows lifted as he waited.
“Uncle Mason?” a little voice chimed and Sara’s gaze was pulled down.
“Sundays aren’t really helping, are they, Sara?”
Sara shifted, her eyes never leaving the blond-haired boy with wine-colored eyes. The boy was a miniature Mason. “Who’s this?” she asked, ignoring the question that really hadn’t needed to be asked.
Mason smiled. “Can we come inside?”
She blinked, opening the door wider. “Oh. Yeah. Come in.” Sara closed the door behind them, crossing her arms and leaning against it.
“It’s obvious I’m not the one helping you,” he said. “Lincoln, right?”
Sara looked away, again not answering. Lincoln—everything with Lincoln was a mess. There were so many emotions involved where he was concerned and Sara was unable to sort through them at all. At least, not yet. The longer she kept her distance, the bigger the chasm inside her grew. She wanted so badly to go to him, but she didn’t know what to do after that.
“Uncle Mason, I’m hungry,” the boy said, tugging his gray baseball cap lower on his head.
“I know, buddy. We’ll leave in just a bit. I just wanted to say hi to my friend quick, remember?”
Uncle Mason? She offered the boy a smile. He had a serious face, his eyes watchful. “Hi. I’m Sara. What’s your name?”
“Derek.”
Sara’s eyes flew to Mason’s. He shrugged; a small smile on his face. “I thought it was time you two met.”
“Derek?” she repeated slowly. “This is Derek? The one you talk to?”
Mason put his arm around Derek, hugging him to his side. “Yep. The reason I had to get my head out of my butt.”
Derek giggled, clapping little hands over his mouth. “You said butt!”
“He’s your brother’s son?” Sara asked, blinking her eyes against tears.
“Yeah. Annie was pregnant when…” He looked at his nephew, his throat working. Mason shrugged, not finishing his sentence. He took a deep breath and continued, “I took one look at this chubby, wide-eyed baby and I wanted to live. I wanted to be someone he could be proud of.”
She knelt before the small boy. “You are one special little being, you know that?”
Derek smiled, nodding his head. “Yep. Uncle Mason tells me that all the time.”
“And how old are you?”
“I’m four and a half and I go to 4K and Mrs. Matthews is my teacher and she smells like flowers, but they don’t smell good. They stink.” He wrinkled his nose up.
Sara laughed. “Oh, really?”
“Uh-huh. Uncle Mason is taking me to Pizza Hut today because my mom needs a break and she calls Uncle Mason when she needs a break. But that’s okay because I like Uncle Mason. I don’t like his girlfriend because—“
“Okay, buddy,” Mason interrupted, “that’s probably enough.”
Sara glanced up at Mason, a grin on her lips. She looked at Derek. “What’s wrong with your Uncle Mason’s girlfriend?”
Derek shrugged, fidgeting. “She wears too much makeup and she’s always trying to kiss him and it’s gross.”
“She must like him a lot.”
“I guess. Can we go now?” Derek asked, looking at his uncle.
Sara straightened, catching the expression on Mason’s face as he looked at his nephew. He was looking at
his world. She inhaled slowly.
“Thank you, Mason, for everything,” she said, meaning it.
He nodded. “If you ever want to talk or just want to stop to say hi, here’s my card.” Mason pulled a black business card from his jeans pocket.
Sara took it. “I will. So you’re releasing me, huh?”
“It was never about me, Sara. It was about you and what or who helped you the most. It hurts my ego to admit it wasn’t me.”
She nodded, glancing away. “Right. Um…before you leave, can I show you something first?”
“Of course.” Mason turned to Derek. “One more minute, bud.”
Derek sighed. “Okay.”
“You got your book?”
The boy nodded, taking a tiny book from his pocket.
“You can sit at the table and look at it, all right?”
“All right.”
Mason motioned for her to proceed. A chair to the table scraped the floor as Derek pulled it out, situating himself at the table with his book. Sara smiled faintly, turning away.
Every step that took her closer to the paintings made it a little harder for her to breathe. Sara forced her footsteps closer to their destination, her pulse racing. She grabbed the doorknob and tugged, opening the door to the studio.
Two paintings stood against the wall, side by side. Sara stared at them, her heart giving a twinge. One was of a closed blue door, the other the same blue door opened to show gray eyes. It was haunting and mysterious.
“What does it mean?” Mason asked from behind her.
Sara shook her head. “I don’t know. It just…my mind wandered both times and this is what I came up with. Once before he died and the other time after.”
“Who has gray eyes?”
She turned around. “Lincoln has gray eyes.”
Mason smiled softly. “I thought so. It’s okay, Sara.”
“I don’t think it is,” she whispered.
“You know…holding on isn’t holding on. It’s letting go.”
“I don’t know what that means.” She blinked and a tear dropped to her cheek.
“You will,” Mason vowed, moving forward to hug her.
“It hasn’t been long enough,” she said into his shoulder, returning the hug. In the person she’d last thought she would, Sara had found a friend.
Mason pulled away. “Life isn’t measured in time, Sara, but by moments. When you figure that out, you’ll be golden.”
Sara blinked her stinging eyes; turning away from Mason’s knowing ones.
“I think you have all your answers. You just have to see them. I got a hungry nephew to feed. Like I said, anytime you want to talk, look me up. I won’t even charge you.”
See me, Lincoln had pleaded. Sara briefly closed her eyes and more tears fell to her face. She opened her eyes, shaking the memory away. “That notebook you gave me?”
He paused at the doorway, looking over his shoulder at her. “Yeah?”
“It’s full of sketches,” Sara admitted.
Mason smiled. “I’m glad.”
“Thank you, Mason,” Sara said, her voice trembling with emotion.
“I didn’t do anything, Sara.”
“So I should thank you for nothing?” A small smile formed to her lips.
Mason laughed. “Yeah. You’d be surprised by how many times I’m told that, actually.” He tapped his fingers on the doorframe. “See you around, Sara.”
“’Bye, Sara!” Derek called and she called a goodbye in return as they walked out the door.
Sara inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She missed Lincoln. The ache in her chest widened, became painful. That connection they’d had, before and after they’d explored one another’s bodies in the most intimate way; she needed it. She needed him. Even if they couldn’t be what he wanted them to be, Sara couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. It was his voice she longed to hear, his arms Sara wanted to feel around her. When had it all changed?
***
The ring that never left her finger, other than when it slid off, was heavy. It weighed her down, like the love she had yet to completely say goodbye to, like the past she had to move forward from. Was it as simple as removing a ring? Would the shedding of it take all she couldn’t get over with it as well? Sara took it off her finger, raising it to eyelevel. It twinkled when the sunlight filtering in through the thin bedroom curtains caught it. It was a solitaire diamond. Simple.
Sara placed the cool metal to her lips and kissed it, clasping it tight within her hand for a moment. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head, willing the release to come, willing the ache to go away. It didn’t. Neither happened. It was a silly thought.
With a sigh, Sara opened the jewelry box on the dresser that housed rings and earrings and necklaces; all the things she used to wear and no longer did. There was a silver cross necklace her mother and father had given her as a graduation gift from high school. With a twinge, she pulled it out and clasped it around her neck, feeling closer to them merely by putting it on. They’d touched it once, they’d bought it for her; it was link to them.
Sara set the wedding ring down on the cream-cushioned interior, resisting the impulse to pick it back up, and with resolve stiffening her jaw, she picked out a pair of white crystal studs and a ring. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she put the earrings in her lobes and pushed the silver-leafed ring on the middle finger of her right hand.
She stared at the image looking back at her, noting the smudges under her eyes and the hollowed-out part below her cheekbones. Sara didn’t recognize the face; it wasn’t the one she remembered. The features were the same, but the look; that was something new. Continually beaten down, but still standing; that was the look in her eyes; that was Sara. You are strong, she thought, her brows lifting at the truth of it. Sara blinked; a little piece of herself given back to her with that realization.
***
She found him in the woods, surrounded by blooming trees and newly born grass. The earth was back to life. Sara envied it. The air was cool, crisp. Birds flew past, singing their joy. It smelled like fresh grass and Sara inhaled deeply, feeling like maybe she was looking at a form of perfection.
Lincoln wore dark jeans and a gray tee shirt. Sara’s heartbeat picked up at the same time her stomach swooped. Something inside her, maybe all of her, sighed at the sight of Lincoln. She dug her hands into the pockets of her light jacket and stopped beside him. Lincoln didn’t look at her, but Sara knew he knew she was there. His body slightly shifted toward hers, unconsciously pulled to her.
“I love you, Sara.”
The air was stolen from her lungs at that admission. “Lincoln—“
“I love you so much it hurts.” He turned his head toward her, his eyes glaring the truth at her, demanding her to see it. “My heart literally aches when you’re not around, even when you are. My throat tightens and there’s this horrible pressure in my chest. Because you’re not mine and I want you to be, and even if you were, I don’t know that this fucked up feeling would go away. It’s…it’s…part of me.” Lincoln muttered something, wearily running a hand through his dark waves as he looked away.
Again she tried to speak and he cut her off with a steely look. “I think of you all the time, I see your face in my dreams, I even feel you in the wind. I know it should be wrong, I know it shouldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Or maybe it was supposed to happen. I don’t know. But now…” His throat convulsed. “Now I just love you and it’s all I can do and it’s all I’ll do. Forever. I’ll just keep loving you.” Lincoln turned shiny eyes from her to stare through the wooded forest.
Sara’s followed his and she saw her husband waiting for her in his black tuxedo, his eyes lit up with happiness, a grin on his lips. The vision of their wedding day faded and it was a forest of trees once more, but the sorrow stayed. It always did. Such a powerful thing: sadness. It had the power to wipe out happiness in the span of one second. Sara knew.
“He’d want y
ou to be happy. Cole wouldn’t want you to be pining after him for the rest of your life, scared to live, scared to love again.”
“I know,” she said quietly.
“But you’re going to keep hiding, aren’t you? You’re going to keep denying yourself, denying us, until everything we have, or could have, is gone. Because you’re scared.” Lincoln faced her again, his eyes too bright. “You don’t think I’m scared too? Every breath I take is full of fear, but I keep breathing. I keep hoping, even though it scares the fuck out of me. Because the thought of losing you, of not having you at all, scares me more.”
It was happening. She was falling, being torn apart, and this time, it was in the anguish she witnessed in Lincoln’s eyes. The pain she’d put there.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Lincoln,” she whispered. “There are things I don’t understand, and one of them is how I feel about you. I know I think about you all the time, I know I miss you when we’re not together. But what it all means…I don’t know. I have to learn how to move on without him and I’m stumbling right now. I have to learn how to accept that he’s gone and even though it’s not okay, I can still be okay. Somehow. I have to do this on my own, Lincoln. Otherwise…” Sara took a deep breath. “Otherwise I’ll never be okay. Not for myself, not for you, not for anyone.”
Lincoln exhaled noisily, squinting into the sun. “I know what you’re saying, I do. But…it doesn’t stop the way I’m feeling. Ya know, I always wanted to be like him. But not this time. This time I want nothing to be like him. I only want to be me. And I want that to be what you want. I want you to look at me and see me, not him. I don’t want to be a reminder. I want you to look at me and forget him.” Lincoln faced her, the force of him overpowering.
“I want you to want me for me. But you have to let go of him to find me, Sara. I can’t be the filler guy. I won’t be. So you have to figure that out. You have to decide what I am and you have to mean it. I’m yours. I just want to make sure, I have to know, that you’re mine. So you go do what you have to do.”
She blinked her tear-filled eyes, the chasm inside her lengthening. “Okay, Lincoln.”