by HK Carlton
His heart ached for her. He wiped her cheeks, but it was futile.
“It’s how I can get up every day, pretending we’re just separated for a short time.”
He could understand how that might help. In a way, he did something similar with his brother—pretended he was away or at work, when he couldn’t handle the loss. But all the time he knew in his head and in his heart what was real.
“But the purse, Kay?” he asked, cautiously.
“It’s exactly what you think. Not long after Autumn”—she swallowed hard—“left…”
She still couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“On the way here, in fact, I booked into a hotel,” she continued, shakily. “I drank an entire bottle of wine while I looked through those photographs. I took out the gun, the pills, the razor blades and I stared at them, trying to weigh what was fast against what would be painless. I picked up the straight edge and I went into the bathroom. I got into the tub. I laid my arm on the side of the cold porcelain and I looked at the purply-blue veins at the bend in my wrist.” She turned her hand over and did that very thing now.
Another shiver ran through him. He’d been there, on that edge—that precipice between accepting life as it was or choosing to end the suffering. But now, he couldn’t do that to Lindsay. Some days, before Kaylah had come into his life, his niece had been the only thing that had kept him going.
Salem covered her wrist with his hand, shielding her view from the delicate lifeline.
She looked up at him. “It was then my phone began to ring. It was Autumn’s ringtone. I dropped the razor and ran for my cell. It was the first time she called me. I really don’t remember much about that first conversation, but she convinced me to carry on to the new house and prep her room, like we’d talked about before she left for school.”
She raised her hands and covered either side of her head. “I know it sounds crazy, Salem. Maybe I am.”
“No. You’re not. Because if you are, so am I. I’ve talked to Autumn, too.”
She shook her head. “You’re just saying that.”
“No. I’m not. I just talked to her. She told me to look in the closet.”
Kaylah’s eyes shifted back and forth, then she focused on him again. “I didn’t put it in there,” she whispered, as if she were afraid someone else might hear. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
“I think Autumn might be our mischievous little poltergeist.”
All of a sudden Kaylah’s eyes fluttered. Salem had to take evasive action to keep her from falling.
“Mikaylah!” He lowered her to the bottom step. “Mikaylah.”
Her eyes flicked open and she blinked rapidly. She reached up and stroked his face. “You should be running like hell right about now,” she said.
“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, I don’t run anywhere these days.”
She made a bit of a huffing sound and her mouth formed the semblance of a smile.
“Besides, I don’t wanna run. I’m right where I want to be.”
“But what about…Autumn? The phone calls?”
“I can’t explain it, Kay. I don’t know. But I talk to my brother, too—not on the phone, but in dreams. Some mornings I wake up and I feel like we’ve talked all night like we used to when we got together. We didn’t get to see each other all that often and, when we did, we had to cram it all in while we could. If it meant a couple all-nighters and several bottles of Jack, we were willing to make that sacrifice.”
“That’s different. He’s not phoning from…wherever they are. It’s simply a dream that seems real.” Confusion clouded her expression. “I have those, too, and, for a second, when I wake, I forget. I can smell her shampoo, hear her singing in the shower, then it all crashes in on me again.”
“I can’t begin to explain any of this, but I think I know why.”
“Why?” she echoed.
Salem swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I think my brother and your daughter put us together for a reason.”
“What?” Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head.
“Because they were together that day, love. My brother and your daughter spent their last moments on earth together. Rich was one of the first responders who attended the accident scene. I didn’t even realize until I started reading the newspaper from your hometown. I knew the details, but our paper reported the one who passed as Emily.” Salem paused. All of a sudden he couldn’t articulate it, either.
“She was Autumn’s friend. She was asleep in the passenger’s seat. She survived. Autumn was driving.” Kay placed her fingers to her mouth. They trembled as she spoke through them. “I thought your brother died overseas. I thought he was a soldier, like you. I didn’t know. I just assumed. Oh, God, Salem, I didn’t know.”
Kaylah’s features crumbled once again. She gripped his hands but he barely felt it. “Please… Please don’t tell me your brother was the one who—”
Solemnly, Salem shook his head as his throat tightened. “Rich was struck and killed by a distracted driver trying to take a picture of the accident scene instead of watching where he was driving.”
“Nooo…” she keened, hugging him tightly, rocking back and forth. Salem lost it then. He tucked his face against her neck, doing a bit of his own kind of sobbing, and Kaylah comforted him.
‘Small world’ didn’t seem to cover it.
Gathering himself, he raised his head. Salem pushed her back then grabbed her upper arms, even shaking her, gently. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t take another loss like that.”
Her head twitched but she didn’t immediately respond.
He shook her again.
“I don’t think about it every day…anymore.”
“But you still think about it?”
“It’s always in the back of my mind. I can’t lie to you about that. When I have a bad day, I always think…well, there’s always an alternative.”
He knew it well.
Anger welled inside him. It pissed him off—the thought of her not being. He couldn’t stand it.
“So, what was the plan here?” he shouted and gestured to the house around them. “You didn’t carry through in the hotel room because Autumn stopped you. But what the fuck are you doing here in this house? What was your intent?”
“At first, I simply planned to do Autumn’s room.”
“At first?” he repeated, angrily.
“But then”—she licked her dry lips—“then I met you and…” She shook her head.
“You met me and what?” he demanded. “The plan changed?”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible.
“To what?” He wanted to shake her, violently.
“I’d wait until the house was finished.”
“You’d wait to what, Kaylah? Kill yourself? You can’t even say it!”
She trembled.
“And every day we work on this godforsaken money pit. What the fuck for? We’re renovating a house for a dead woman!” She flinched. Was he getting through? “You have no intention of living in this home. What’s the use? Why are we bothering? You made me fall in love with you,” he accused. “Were you just going to leave me? Let me think you were going to go live near your daughter? Break my fucking heart then end it all? All alone, in some…” His throat closed and behind his eyes pricked. He might never have known.
When she reached for him, he snatched his arm back. He didn’t trust himself.
She reared and fisted her hands.
“I don’t think about it every day…anymore,” she repeated.
“Why?” he snapped.
“Because, every day, I fall a little bit more in love with you, too, and, when I wake up in the morning, my first thought isn’t ‘will I make it through the day?’ I want to get up—to be with you.”
“For now.” He shrugged. Perhaps it was a cold move, but he was furious and scared and maybe the biggest hypocrite for what he’d put his own family through. “You want to be with
me for now, but when the house is done? Then what? Or when life gets too hard. What are you gonna do then, Kaylah?”
“Jerusalem…” Once again, she reached for his arm then hesitated. He allowed it this time, needing the contact, too. “You have to understand. When I lost my daughter, I lost everything. Nothing mattered. I just went through the motions of life. My beautiful baby is gone and she’s never coming back.” Her words stopped on a sob. “But when I’m with you, I want to be with you. I don’t think about it as much—the grief, that is. I think about Autumn. I’ll always think about her, but the pain isn’t as sharp.”
“Aw, Kaylah.” He cupped the back of her head then let his hands run over her hair. “Don’t you see? Rich and Autumn brought us together for a reason, so we could help each other through our loss, so we could heal.
Blinking away tears, she looked into his eyes.
“Remember my business card stuck in your door after we’d met at the restaurant? I didn’t put it there. No one I know put it there. At the same time, I got a call that you’d made an appointment for an estimate.”
Kaylah nodded. “From the day of Autumn’s accident, I saw the name ‘Jerusalem’ everywhere I went.”
“She led you straight to me, and I’m grateful. I love you, Mikaylah.” His eyes welled again.
“I love you, too,” she whispered. She said the words and he believed, by the gentle look in her watery eyes, that she meant them. But he still felt like there was a but attached and it terrified him. Would she have to fight the urge every day and would he walk on egg shells for the rest of his life wondering, if he left her alone, would today be the day that he lost her, too?
“I think we need some real help—the professional kind. We can lean on each other while we work through it. We need to deal with our losses, all of them—not only our loved ones but also the other things we’ve had to deal with.” He patted his leg then he gently placed his hand to her upper chest. She covered his with both of hers.
Solemnly, she nodded. “No doctor is ever going to believe any of this. They’ll lock me up and throw away the key.”
“I won’t let that happen. Don’t forget. They’d still have to give us adjoining padded cells, baby. We’ll find an expert who’s open-minded and believes in the kind of things we’ve been experiencing.”
“You really talked to her?” Kaylah shook her head slightly, as though it seemed unbelievable.
“I’ve talked to her a couple of times. The first was the day I assessed the house. Autumn interrogated me. Then, when I guess I had her approval, she was all for you hiring me.”
“That sounds like her.” A gentle, sad smile bowed her sweet mouth.
“But the second time we talked, she said, ‘my mother needs you’.”
“It’s true. I did. I do need you. I’m not sure I’d still be here, if I hadn’t met you.”
“So, it’s a deal? We’ll work through this together? All the way, Mikaylah. We both have to get to the other side. And, when we do and we’re better people, able to handle things, we can concentrate on us. I want there to be a you and me.”
“I want that, too,” she said. “I’ve left the house to you,” she murmured.
“What?” He was stunned.
But, at the moment, he also didn’t have it in him to examine the motivation behind it—a decision made as if in preparation for more permanent things. He pushed it aside for now and listened to her.
“That way, the men will always have a place to stay when they need one. I always want them to have a place to go. And once our men are back on their feet, I hope men and women like them will come and stay. Let this house be a place for our forgotten heroes to go when there’s nowhere else.”
“Oh Kaylah, that’s an amazing thing.”
“I think it’s something Autumn would want. She saw this place as what could be a home away from home for kids who might be homesick or need something other than the dorm scene. She wanted it to be a real home. With you and the guys around, it feels like a home, not just a house—like we’re a family.”
“It’s also a way for Autumn to live on, love. She’ll never be forgotten.”
For the rest of the day Salem stayed by Mikaylah’s side.
The following morning, he left the photos of Autumn in her room but removed the worn leather purse and all its other contents from the premises.
* * * *
Weeks later…
After some hefty research, they’d found a doctor who was open-minded to the sort of supernatural experience they’d witnessed. Dr. Maybin not only counselled them individually but also as a couple. It was eye-opening and difficult, but they were steadily healing—physically, mentally and spiritually.
On the way back from a therapy session, Salem and Kaylah stopped and picked up his niece.
It was the psychologist’s idea to spend as much time with Lindsay as possible. It was doing wonders for Kaylah.
Late in the afternoon, Kaylah held Lindsay on her hip. They had their heads together, sharing secrets. They looked so good. It was natural for Kay to have a child on her hip. Salem’s heart took on a heavy lope as he watched the loves of his life.
“It’s time to go, short-stuff,” Salem said, nearing them. “Give Auntie Kaylah a hug.”
Lindsay wound her arms around Kay’s neck and held on tight.
“Will you come back and visit us again?” Kaylah asked, her face hidden in his niece’s blonde hair.
“Sure. I like it here,” Lindsay responded.
Kaylah grinned and set his niece down. “I’ll be in the truck, Uncle Salem.” They watched her skip away.
“I’ll drop her home and pick something up for supper on the way back? Sound good?” he asked.
Kaylah nodded and she looked at his lips.
“You ever think about having another child?” he asked. What was in his heart was out of his mouth before he could even think it through.
The familiar pain registered in her eyes. Her nostrils flared slightly. “No,” she whispered.
He held her gaze. “Well, think about it.”
He watched her blink repeatedly when she realized the implications of his statement.
“Your child?” she whispered.
“Our child.” He took her mouth in a soul-searing kiss. When he ended it, they were both breathless but, when he looked into her eyes, he was certain the pain wasn’t as fierce.
Epilogue
Two years later…
Salem took his new wife’s hand. She looked beautiful, happy even. Mikaylah had many things to live for, now.
“Oops, there she goes,” Mikaylah laughed and moved forward to catch the head-heavy toddler.
“I’ll watch her, Aunt Kayla. You enjoy your day.”
“Thank you, Lindsay,” she called, then to Salem, she said, “She’s growing up so fast, Salem.”
“They both are.” They watched their niece run after their just-barely toddling daughter, Summer.
“You’re the most handsome man, Mr. Aames.” She smiled as she ran her hand over his necktie.
“And you are the most beautiful bride, Mrs. Aames.”
Her grin broadened. “Oh, I do like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
They joined hands and walked around the pond. The outdoor venue was decorated with white and pink bows, arbors and draped fabric. Several of the crew stood near the wishing well, talking to guests and taking donations.
“They clean up nicely, don’t they?” Kaylah said.
In lieu of gifts, they’d asked guests to donate to the foundation—Autumn’s House—an organization they’d founded for not only veteran men and woman but also first responders struggling with PTSD who needed a temporary home or, in some cases, a permanent one.
In the last few years, they’d purchased several old houses across the city. With the help of the crew—which had expanded with every reno—they’d fixed them up to help the forgotten service-people. Mikaylah was also working on setting up a job b
ank and mental health support.
All of a sudden, Kaylah gasped and came to an abrupt halt.
Salem looked up. Tears poured down her cheeks as she stared straight ahead.
Salem followed her line of vision.
“Do you see them? There, across the water?”
Salem focused on the hazy figures by the wooden bridge.
Autumn stood next to his brother.
“I knew they wouldn’t miss this,” Salem said, as his throat closed with raw emotion.
It had been a while since they’d had any contact with their lost loved ones. Kaylah had once mentioned that the happier she got, the less she heard from her daughter.
Autumn raised her hand and she blew them a kiss. A soft smile, ever so similar to her lovely mama’s, played about her mouth.
Rich came to attention and saluted. Salem returned the gesture.
As Salem lowered his arm, Rich turned to Autumn and held out his hand. Autumn took it. They turned slowly and walked into the sunset.
“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” Salem asked.
Mikaylah turned to him, her lovely eyes brimming. “I think they’ll always be near, especially when we have wonderful days like this. And I believe with everything in me that someday, we’ll all be together again.”
Just then, Summer ran across the bridge with Lindsay in hot pursuit.
Kaylah chuckled, though tears still streaked her cheeks. “She is a little handful.”
“Are you happy, Kay?” Salem asked, turning her to face him. He searched her eyes. They shone with an intensity near what he’d seen in the photos of her and Autumn.
“When I lost Autumn, I never thought I’d be happy again. I was so wrong. You’ve made me want to live again, Salem. I love you so much.”
He sighed in relief. Then she kissed him, making his one good knee weak.
“Are you happy?” she asked, when she raised her head.
“I don’t think I could be any happier.”
She grinned. “I bet I could make you so,” she challenged.