Ethan sat in that spot when he was here. Now his belongings are there. I hate the word belongings.
I hit the steering wheel.
Over and over.
Pain spreads through my palms and over my knuckles, but I don’t stop.
The car door opens, and I’m lifted out.
My breath catches in my throat. I’m in someone’s arms.
Nick.
His hair brushes my shoulder as he leans forward, bending to gently set me on my feet.
I use my forearm to wipe my wet face. He pulls the bottom of his shirt away from his body and offers it to me.
“No way.” I shake my head and a tiny bit of laughter escapes. It takes me by surprise. Laughter. That’s what it feels like. How quickly the mind forgets.
Nick eyes me. “You should really pick a fight with someone who can at least fight back.”
I shake out my throbbing right hand. “I’ll consider that next time.”
“Want to talk about anything?” His face is hopeful. Why does everybody want me to talk to them? Nobody needs to see what a mess I am.
“I’m good. Better go.” I turn back, pausing in my open car door. “I have to work in the morning. Thanks for, uh… Thanks.” My face flames.
Nick stands in the driveway and stares at me as I reverse and get the hell away from the place that used to hold happy memories.
16
July
Hi Kate,
You wouldn’t believe what happened to me a couple weeks ago. I was coming out of the house where I’m staying and there was a girl fighting her car. Well, technically she was fighting her steering wheel. Anyway, I broke up the fight. I think she’ll be okay. I don’t know about the car though.
Phoenix has been cool. That’s not true. It’s really hot. And shitty. It’s hard for anything to be good right now. You might not know this, but I lost my best friend. He was killed fighting a war. I wasn’t there for him. I was in Germany doing my exit interviews. I talked to him that morning before he left for his mission. He had to get off the phone with me so he could Skype with his girlfriend.
I've been looking for an apartment. There’s a lot of nice stuff out here. Then again, pretty much everything is nice when you’re coming from where I’ve been.
I hope you had an okay week.
Nick
P.S. That girl who fought her car— Did I mention she was you?
Mom, voicemail:
“Kate, it’s your mother. This is my third call. Why aren’t you answering? I’ve talked to Harper. I know you’re ignoring me.”
Mom, voicemail:
“Katherine Rae Masters, I’m beginning to get upset.”
Mom, voicemail:
“I thought you were doing better. You had lunch with Evie three weeks ago. You talked to me after. I thought… I’m worried about you.”
There’s a buzzing sound on my nightstand. I grab my phone and open just one eye. I can’t open the other. It hurts too much.
Sarah Maxwell: Where are you? Lynn asked me if I’ve heard from you.
What the hell? I force my pounding head up to look at the clock.
Ten. On a Monday morning. Shit.
I just need my Tylenol. Then I can call Lynn and tell her I’m too sick to come in.
On my dresser are two pills and a note.
You are hilarious when you’re drunk.
Take these, you’re going to need them.
H
When did I talk to Harper? I don’t remember seeing her last night. But I do remember sitting on the couch and pouring a fourth drink. After that… Nothing.
Doesn’t matter…because last night, I kissed Ethan. The more I drink, the more real Ethan becomes. And last night he was alive, vital, and in my arms. I smelled his clean, woodsy scent. Tasted his tongue, his pink lips. Felt stubble on his cheeks.
The alcohol brings him to life. I’ll never have to be without him again.
A peaceful feeling flows through my veins and warms me. I’ve discovered exactly how to keep Ethan alive. And it’s good I did.
Either I was going to die or Ethan was going to live.
Lucky for me it’s the better of my two choices.
***
When I come out of my room, I find Harper in the living room, lying on the couch with her computer on her lap. Her head’s propped up on a pillow, and she’s typing. Her fingers stop moving when she sees me.
One side of her mouth turns up. “Well, well, well. It’s about time you woke up. Did you take the medicine?”
I nod. I don’t know what I said last night, and I don’t want to admit it by asking her.
“I need something to eat. And coffee. And water. I need a lot of things.” I walk to the kitchen. Behind me I hear Harper set her computer on the table and follow me.
“I like drunk Kate.”
I ignore her and start the coffee. How can she like me when I’m as drunk as I was last night? I’m the very worst version of myself. But it’s so worth it.
Harper leans an elbow on the counter and watches me slice a grapefruit. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I’m not sure what to say. I got really drunk last night and didn’t call in sick until ten.”
“What did Lynn say?”
“I told her I’m sick. I think she knew I was lying.” I bite my lip.
Harper dismisses my words with a wave of her hand. “You are sick. Look at you. Bags under your bloodshot eyes. Blotchy skin. Definitely sick.”
Thanks a lot. I already know how bad I look. And it’s not just from last night.
I eat my grapefruit and keep my comment to myself.
Harper plucks a wedge from the cutting board. “As long as you recover by tomorrow night.” She sinks her teeth into the fruit.
I look up in alarm. Harper’s watching me expectantly, a smile on her face. And I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“Remind me again what tomorrow night is?” I focus on eating as though it requires intense concentration.
“Hah!”
My shoulders startle at her victorious laugh.
“I knew you didn’t remember last night.” She looks smug.
“Fine. I don’t remember. Can you please fill me in?”
She walks to the fridge and picks out a bottle of sparkling water. I watch her grab a glass and pour. Slowly. My patience gives out when she grabs a lime and a knife.
I snatch the lime from her hand and pull it to my chest. “Why was I was so hilarious last night?”
She huffs. She’s used to me playing her games. Old Kate.
She shakes out her long hair. “You were impersonating yourself and Ethan when you guys were younger.”
My groan is loud. I don’t even know what I would have to impersonate. I set the lime down on the counter.
“Show me.” I don’t want to know, but I also really, really do.
Harper sets down her knife and claps her hands once with excitement. “Yay, I love charades.”
My life is not a game.
Harper clears her throat and shakes out her arms, then sings like she’s warming up. “Me me me me me meeee.”
I cross my arms. “Enough.”
I’m terrified of what Harper is about to say. But I need to know. I need to know what my drunken thoughts are. Because I certainly don’t remember them.
“Ethan, let’s study for finals. I’m a prissy rule follower, and I must study at least two hours a day.” Harper’s voice is falsetto. I don’t sound like that, but okay. She jumps and turns around, facing the direction she just came from.
“Kate, I don’t want to study. I want to tell you I love you again.” Her voice is deep now. She does the jump and turn.
“No, Ethan. We can’t be more than friends because I say so. Even though I love you too. In a few years I’ll realize we should be together. Just hang tight.” She jumps and turns.
“I’ll just sit here and wait for you to change your mind. I’m loyal. In the meantime, I’ll join t
he Army.”
Jump and turn.
“Ethan, that’s a great idea. You go fight the bad guys, and we’ll wait until the day I decide I’m finally in love with you. But first I’ll date a few guys and make you really jealous.”
Jump and turn.
“Kate, that’s perfect. I love watching you try to deny your feelings about me by dating other people. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Jump and turn. Hand waving manically.
“Ethan, oh Ethan. I’m ready. I’m not stupid anymore. Now it’s time for us to be in love.”
Jump and turn.
“Awesome, Kate. I’ve been here all along, but the wait has been swell. Let’s be in love now.”
Jump and turn.
“Oh, Ethan, let’s be together forever, like a real fairytale.”
Jump and turn.
“Oh, Kate, sorry I can’t. I have to get on the helicopter and die and leave you behind forever. Too bad you didn’t love me earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have joined the Army. Well, see ya later.”
No more jumping, no more turning. She doubles over, her laughter filling our small kitchen, making it smaller.
My chest is tight, my eyes burn. Why did I say all those things? Why did I say anything at all? And how is any of this funny? My broken insides are no laughing matter, even if I was drunk and talking crazy. Why can’t she see that?
Harper recovers and looks at me. “Well, fine. It was funny last night when you were hammered and jumping around.”
I can only nod. I have no idea how to respond.
Harper looks at me, exasperation plain on her face. Does she really expect me to find it funny?
She grabs her water glass and points at the living room. “I have emails to send. I’m double checking everything for tomorrow night’s party. The one you agreed to go to.” She looks at me pointedly.
There’s no way I’m going to a party tomorrow night, but I’m not telling her right now. She’ll start spouting trite clichés like, ‘Get back on the horse’.
If I hear her say that one more time…
She's back in her place on the couch when I pass her on the way to my room.
“By the way, I deserve an Oscar for that reenactment.” She doesn’t look at me as she speaks. She’s typing again.
Old Kate’s temper would have flared at that comment. But new Kate doesn’t care. New Kate doesn’t feel.
17
August
Hi Kate,
Ethan warned me it would be hot here during the summer. Getting into my car is awful. Tomorrow I’m having the windows tinted. In Connecticut my windows didn’t need tint. In AZ, it should be mandatory.
I got a job. My experience as an Army medic qualified me to be an EMT here in the civilian world. Ultimately I want to be a doctor. I’m starting classes at ASU in January. I didn’t take school seriously before I joined the Army, but I will now.
Hope you’re doing okay. Maybe write me back this time? Your mom and Evie are worried.
Nick
P.S. Your mom is really funny.
Mom, voicemail:
“I was hoping you’d answer. You answered my call last week. I think I’ll just keep calling you every week.”
Mom, voicemail:
“Another week, another unanswered phone call. It’s a good thing Harper answers her phone, or I wouldn’t know that you’re okay. Whatever your version of okay is.”
Zane, voicemail:
“Hey Kate. I’m back from Idaho. Classes start tomorrow, just wanted to give you a call and see how you’re doing. Take care.”
“Kate, I’ve got your wine. The one you keep going through at breakneck speed.”
Harper’s voice reaches me in my bedroom. I find her in the kitchen, unloading groceries.
I open the pantry door and start putting away dry goods. “Thanks for grocery shopping. I’ll give you some cash.”
“I’d prefer it if you’d just start cooking again.”
I swallow and look away. I have no desire to cook.
“Fine. I get it. You’re still not ready to start acting like the Kate we all know and love.”
She picks up the wine bottle and pushes it to my chest. “Take your wine and go hide with it. Get drunk like you do every night.” It’s a mean comment, but she speaks in such an even tone that it’s hard to be certain if she meant to be rude.
I take the bottle. “I thought you like drunk Kate.” I should be mortified right now, but I’m not. Why is that?
“I like drunk Kate when she’s funny.” Her hands go to her hips and her head tilts as she looks at me. “You’re not funny anymore. You’re…sad.”
I walk to my room. No glass necessary. This sad, pathetic excuse for a person drinks wine from the bottle.
The wine bottle comes in the shower with me. When the hot water runs over my shoulders I twist off the cap and take a big drink.
When I get to work in the morning, I’ll take three pain relievers from the stash in my desk drawer, and I’ll make it through the day. Then I’ll come home and do it all again.
Work, drink, repeat.
***
Two weeks later Harper sends me a text as I’m leaving work.
Harper: Are you going to be at home tonight?
Me: Of course I'm going to be at home tonight.
Harper doesn't tell me why she asked, and by the time I get home I forget to care. I'm sitting on the couch with her after dinner, waiting an acceptable amount of time before I can announce my escape to my room. My eyes grow heavy. Soon I’ll be asleep. Just get to your bed so you can hold the pillow he slept on.
Harper makes a noise, and I look at her. She rolls her eyes. At my sleepiness? She mutes the TV, throws the remote on the table, and turns to me.
“We need to have a heart to heart.”
“About what?” I ask, even though I’m sure I know the answer. She's finally going to ask me how I’m doing dealing with Ethan’s death.
“You need a pep talk.”
What?
“And what exactly do I need to get pepped about?”
Harper crosses her arms, all business. “Returning to life.” She states it so matter-of-factly.
Returning to life? I shake my head, confused. “What are you getting at?”
“You’ve been moping around here, not going anywhere or doing anything. It’s been two months since Ethan died. It’s time to get on with your life.”
I sit, silent and unmoving, trying to absorb her words. She’s never been sensitive, but this is a whole new level.
“See, you’re thinking about what I said. I knew talking to you was the right thing to do.”
I want to smack the smug look off her face.
I shake my head, trying to calm myself down. I'm not sleepy anymore. “The right thing for you to do would be to actually be my friend and help me as I grieve for whom and what I lost. How could you even suggest that it’s time for me to move on?” My voice raises as I talk until I’m a notch below yelling.
“Whoa, calm down.” Harper holds her hands out defensively. “If you want to wallow in self-pity, then so be it. Don’t say I didn’t try to get you back on your feet.”
I open and close my mouth several times before I’m able to put together a response. When I do, it’s bubbling from my loosely tethered temper.
“This conversation is over. I can’t say I’m shocked by your insensitivity, but I'm surprised you’re being so heartless.” I get up from the couch and head to the kitchen to clean up from dinner.
Harper follows, continuing to talk even though I said we're done. “I miss Ethan, too, okay? I’m sad too. But I’m not going to crawl into a hole and die.”
I stare at her from my place at the sink, my jaw dropped down in astonishment.
“You weren’t the one in love with Ethan.” I slam a plate into the dishwasher and hear it crack. “It’s not all about you, Harper. For once, this is about me.”
As I say the words, I begin to understand why
Harper’s being so callous. This pep talk is starting to make sense.
Harper’s used to being the center of attention, and right now, she isn’t. People are talking about me, and losing Ethan, and how awful that is for me. Harper recently told me just exactly that. She said every time she hangs out with any of her friends or sees anybody who knows me, they ask about me. Surely that would irritate someone who is the center of her own universe—and make her jealous.
Of course Harper is eager to right the ship and get the focus back on her, where she believes it belongs.
“That’s not at all what this is about. I just want you to move past it.” Her hands are on her hips.
I close the dishwasher and wash my hands. “Whether you know it or not, this is all about you. Everyone still loves you, Harper. You’re still the person they all want to be friends with. Pretty soon everyone will be bored of my sad fate and stop asking you about me. In the meantime, I’ll continue to work through each day the best that I can. And you can keep any future pep talks to yourself.”
I walk to my bedroom and shut the door, ending the conversation for good.
18
September
Hi Kate,
This is my third email. If you don’t respond in two weeks I’m coming to look for you. Getting your address will be easy.
If that happens, I’ll be coming from my own apartment. I moved out of the Shepherds’ house a few weeks ago. It feels pretty good to be on my own. It was nice of Evie and James to let me stay there, but… It was hard. Ethan measured his height on his door frame. Some of your measurements are on there too, but way below Ethan’s. Shorty.
Two weeks, Kate. Two weeks and I’m going to come looking for you. You’re shirking your tour guide responsibilities. And I need to know where I can get the best tacos.
Nick
P.S. Ethan asked me to look out for you. But you’re making it really hard.
The Day He Went Away Page 13