He wished Chloe could understand it was a mistake. He hadn’t meant to become a bad role model. It’d happened without warning. He’d been at such a low place, a place he thought was impossible.
I can’t go back, he thought as he climbed into the driver seat. Looking in the rearview mirror, he saw Logan talking to his stuffed dinosaur.
No matter how much Chloe took away from him, no matter how little time he had with his son, he wouldn’t mess it up. He would be the kind of father Logan would idolize, would look up to, even if it was only two weekends a month.
_______________
“That was fun, Daddy! Dinosaurs! Rawrr,” Logan shouted, squeezing Jackson’s hand as they left the theater that afternoon. Logan was skipping, holding his dinosaur in his other arm.
They’d gone to see the latest animated dinosaur movie, the one Logan had been talking about. Jackson had planned this for weeks, couldn’t wait to see his son’s face, couldn’t wait to see the amazement in his eyes.
But after they bought their popcorn and sodas and found seats, after the previews were over and the movie started, Jackson’s heart was stabbed again.
“Daddy took me to see this,” Logan mumbled, looking at Jackson. “I sawed it.”
“No buddy, we talked about seeing it on the way here. We haven’t seen it.”
“Yuh-huh. Me and Mommy and Daddy sawed it yesterday.”
Jackson froze.
His anger seethed. He balled his fist in his hand, clenching his jaw.
He’d told Chloe he wanted to take Logan to see the movie.
So she’d taken Logan with Seth yesterday apparently.
Then his anger pressurized. He realized Logan had called Seth Daddy. Just like he’d suspected. He’d have to fight to stay in Logan’s life.
He sighed, exhaling. Let it go. It doesn’t matter. Breathe.
“Well, buddy, did you like the movie? Do you want to see it again?”
Just then, the dinosaur ran across the screen, causing a cascade of giggles from the kids around them. Logan looked at the screen and laughed too.
He was entranced. Obviously, the answer was yes.
Jackson tried to let the hurt roll off him, tried to wash it down with soda and popcorn butter. It was hard to know Logan was slipping away, a replacement daddy waiting in the wings. It was impossible to be okay with some strange man, some man who had stolen his wife, now stealing the most important thing to him.
As the weekend rolled on and their bi-weekly goodbye inched closer, Jackson felt his life floating into thin air. The gloom of the days without Logan crept back in, and the old Jackson seemed to be coming back.
“Daddy, why you no live with me anymore?” Logan asked Saturday night when Jackson tucked him in—at nine o’clock. Screw Chloe’s bedtime orders.
“Well, buddy. Things are complicated right now. I want to spend more time with you. I do. I love you.” Jackson hugged his son, held him close, and prayed Logan would never doubt those words.
_______________
Tears streamed down Logan’s face. Jackson stooped down to eye level with him. There was a soft drizzle falling, and the air had grown chilly.
“Logan, listen, it’s okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, all right? And then, before you know it, I’ll be back for you again. Next time, we’ll go to the diner again and see another movie. What do you say?”
“Daddy, I miss you.”
“I know, Logan. I miss you too. These next few weeks will go so fast. Now give me a hug and then get in the car with your mom, okay?”
Logan woefully nodded, tears still streaming. Jackson hugged his son tightly, clasping onto him. As it always did, Jackson’s weekend with Logan flew by. He felt like he was just playing at the role of father, barely having time to settle Logan in before it was time to turn around and meet Chloe again.
Chloe glared from behind, her foot tapping, her hood up to protect her from the drizzle.
“Come on, Logan. Let’s get in the car.” She reached for her son’s arm, tugging him toward his seat.
After a long moment, Logan followed his mother. Logan’s doughy brown eyes looked at Jackson in a way that made him want to crumple on the pavement. He didn’t though, standing stoically, perhaps channeling the stance his own father had shown him so many times.
“I love you,” he said to his son as Chloe shut the car door after buckling in their child.
“Goodbye, Jackson.”
“Chloe, wait. You see what this is doing to him. Please reconsider.”
“The court has made its decision. I’m not going to talk about this every time.”
He reached for her arm. “Please. I know I made a mistake. I know. But I didn’t hurt anyone. And I would never endanger Logan. You know that. I was just devastated about you, about us. I felt you slipping away. I was pissed you did that to me.”
“I’ve heard this. It doesn’t matter. The court heard your story. And they sided with me.”
“Chloe, it’s not like I murdered someone.”
“You could’ve. You could’ve murdered our son. What if he had been in the car?”
“I would never do that.”
“We’re done here.”
She got in the car, turning her back on him, as she’d done so many weeks now.
It was hopeless. There was no fixing this.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jackson
He knew he should turn the truck around, go back to his apartment, and watch television. This was a bad idea. A weird one. She would think he was being creepy, odd.
No matter how much he rationalized, however, he couldn’t make himself turn the truck around.
November 14.
He’d been watching the date on the calendar, knowing it was going to be a rough day for everyone, especially for Sophia. The first year was always the worst. The first day without them, the first holiday.
Tim’s first birthday since his death, and, thus, the first birthday he wouldn’t be able to actually celebrate.
He’d thought about calling her, just to check in. He’d thought about doing nothing at all, leaving it to family and friends. Then he thought about Tim, thought about the man who always knew what to do, who never worried about appearances when it came to helping someone out. He would want him to check on Sophia, to make sure she was okay.
He pulled into the driveway and noticed the parked red Corolla. She was home. Turning off the truck, he sat for a long moment, contemplating. He was just doing this because he was worried about her, because he had a connection with her through Tim. He just wanted to make sure she was okay.
Grabbing the bag on the passenger seat, he shuffled to the door. He wondered for a brief moment if she might be busy. Maybe she was with her family or Stella. Maybe he would be intruding.
He rang the doorbell, deciding it was too late to turn around. He’d just hand her the food, see how she was, and leave.
A moment later, the door opened, and a surprised Sophia stood in front of him. Her hair was pulled back into a disheveled ponytail. Her mascara was smudged, clearly hinting at the tears she’d been shedding. She wore loose sweatpants and a tank top. An unbuttoned flannel shirt loosely draped over her.
She looked the part of a saddened widow on the birthday of her late husband.
“Hey,” she said, looking both surprised and relieved to see him.
“Hey. I don’t want to intrude. I just thought today might be rough.”
She silently nodded, stepping back and gesturing him in.
“Am I interrupting?”
“No. My parents were here, but I sent them home. I didn’t want to see anyone.”
His stomach fell. This was exactly what he was afraid of. “Listen, I can go. I just wanted to bring you dinner in case you were hungry.”
She studied him, her blue eyes sparkling in the light of the kitchen. She paused, her face softening. She seemed to be thinking something.
Finally, after a long pause, she simply said, “Stay.”
/> He nodded, ambling to the island in the kitchen with the paper sack. “I brought some hoagies from Wayne’s Place down the street. Their food is good.”
“It’s the best. Tim loved that place.”
“Sorry.” Great. He was screwing everything up. He was making everything worse.
She shook her head, reminiscing. “No. I think it’s good.”
He sat down on a stool at the island, unfolding napkins and pulling out the sandwiches. She sat beside him, hugging one knee to her chest, looking at the food, looking at him.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Why don’t you eat something?”
“Not hungry.”
“Me neither. But these subs are seriously awesome. You’re not going to waste it, are you? That’s obviously a sin.”
She shrugged. “Maybe just a few bites.”
“Deal.”
He handed her the wrapped sandwich, and she methodically, carefully unwrapped it. She took a bite, chewing slowly.
“God, that’s good,” she admitted, taking another bite.
“Damn right. Best in the state.”
They chewed in silence, two lonely people sitting beside each other, alone in their worlds, in their problems. It felt weird being here, being in the home Tim once shared with her, a home symbolic of a life Jackson no longer recognized.
It felt right too. It felt, in a strange way, as if he could help Tim by helping her. He could do right by him by seeing to it Sophia didn’t fall completely apart.
“Tough day?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“One of the worst so far. I didn’t think it would hit me like this.”
“The firsts are always the worst. It gets easier.”
“Does it? Because right now, I don’t believe it.”
He set his sandwich down. “It never gets easy. It just gets easier. The suffocating stillness, the pain in your chest, it gets bearable. You’ll see.”
She nodded, accepting his words. “Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me a story about him. Tell me something about when you two were young.”
He paused, wiping his face with a napkin. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I think that’s what’s killing me the most. It’s like people are afraid to mention him, you know? His parents, my parents, everyone. Everyone’s afraid to bring him up. It’s like they think I’ve forgotten. I want to hear about him. I want to talk about him. I miss him. It’s bad enough he’s dead. And now everyone is tiptoeing around even the mention of him like he didn’t even exist.”
He felt the tension ease. He was relieved to be given permission to talk about Tim because that was exactly what he needed, too.
“How about I tell you about the day he almost drowned?”
“Well that seems a bit melancholy, huh?” She grinned.
“You said you didn’t want people censoring themselves.”
“Go on.”
“We were eight. I’d known Tim for about a year at this point. He was always the sensible one. I, as you probably have figured out, was a bit of the rash one. Always getting us into trouble, always coming up with crazy schemes. Well, it was his birthday, and I hadn’t had a chance to get him a gift. His party was in the afternoon, but I decided since I didn’t get him anything, I’d just take him fishing.”
“Tim? Fishing?” Sophia smiled.
“Yeah, I know. Even at eight, it was pretty apparent he wasn’t quite the fishing, hunting, hands-on kind of guy. He was happier sitting in our treehouse reading a book. I, on the other hand, liked getting dirty, liked being in the wild.”
“A man’s man.” She put her sandwich down to wipe the dressing off her hands, her gaze still locked on him.
“You could say that. Anyway, I didn’t want to tell him my idea. I just wanted to surprise him. So I told him to meet me at our treehouse at eight in the morning. I’d already hidden my dad’s fishing pole out by the river and all of the supplies.”
“Your parents let you go by yourself at that age?”
“I didn’t say we had permission, did I?” He smiled at her, fully engulfed in the memory now. Her face had softened. “Anyway, he met me at the treehouse, apprehensive of course. The week before, I’d stolen fireworks from a neighbor’s house and almost caught Tim on fire. But he trusted me, God knows why. I blindfolded him, deciding to lead him to the river as a surprise.”
Sophia eyed him furtively, seeming to know where the story was going.
“Let’s just say I wasn’t the best guide. We walked down the pathway behind his house and arrived at the river. But I got distracted. Tim lost his footing. Before I knew what happened, he was screaming wildly in the river water, flailing about, still blindfolded.”
Sophia covered her mouth. “He couldn’t swim.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t know that. So all I saw was Tim sinking down. It took a minute until I realized what was happening. I ended up having to jump in and save him.”
“What a great surprise.”
“Yeah, obviously. To top it all off, he ended up getting bit by a snake on the way out of the woods. And I forgot my dad’s fishing pole. We spent Tim’s birthday party first at the emergency room and then grounded. He was pretty pissed at me for about a week.”
“You were trouble.”
“Yeah, I was. Still am, I suppose.”
“Nah, I don’t think you’re half bad.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “After all, you managed to make me smile today. And eat. My mom would be grateful.”
“It’s just hard, you know, to think about it all. To think how it all ended. It’s not fair. He was a good man. He was always good. He didn’t deserve to die.”
“No one ever does,” Sophia added rationally. “But you’re right. He didn’t deserve it. He had so much ahead of him. So many people to help. I always think if someone had to go, why him? He was the important one. He was the one doing big things. I cut hair. My life wouldn’t be missed.”
“Hey. Stop it. That’s ridiculous. Of course you matter.” He found himself getting angry by her words. They scared him, probably because he recognized them.
She shrugged. “It’s the truth. Where’s my life really going?”
He covered her hand with his. “It’s going somewhere. That’s all that matters. Sophia, I know this is awful, and I know you don’t want to hear this. But this isn’t it for you. There are big things in store for you. I just know it. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re going to have a full life. I know it’s not what you had in mind, not what you planned. You’re going to be okay, though.”
There was a pause, a silence. He felt himself feeling more comfortable, more open than he had in months, years if he were being honest. He felt himself saying the things to her he needed to be saying to himself. In her, he saw a broken woman, a destroyed woman, who was going to resurrect herself from destruction. In her, he saw hope in an odd way.
He saw a will to survive, to keep moving. Despite her understandable succumbing to sadness, to pity, to depression, there was a fight in her, a determination to not give up. A determination to live the life she had planned, just in a different way.
“Thank you. I’m glad you came today.”
He took this as his cue to leave, standing and clearing the garbage away. “Call me anytime you need me.”
She walked him to the door, hanging on the oak doorframe as she said to him, “Same to you.”
She smiled at him, waving him goodbye, and he turned to head toward his truck.
He had gone to visit her to help her through a rough day.
What he hadn’t expected was that seeing Sophia would help him as well, help him see the hope he had thought was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sophia
She lay on her side, his Penn State hoodie in her arms. She’d told herself after the first month was up, she’d stop doing this. But she couldn’t. She pressed the hoodie against her face, br
eathed in, and smelled the faint smell of Tim. She was probably imagining it, but it comforted her just the same. She fell asleep with the hoodie in her arms every night since he was gone. It was crazy, she knew, but it felt like a piece of him was still here. It felt like she wasn’t in the bed alone.
Tears streaming down her face as the moonlight scattered the darkness just enough, she caught a glimpse of the empty pillow. She could tell herself the hoodie helped, tell herself she could feel Tim’s presence.
It was a lie, though.
Here, in the darkness, his absence was most noticeable. The gaping hole on his side of the bed, the lack of a good-night kiss, the absence of his I love you underscoring the loss. Here, in the bed they shared, she was left with the reality of his departure. She was left to toss and turn, to ponder the life gone by, the life she lost, and the coming years of loneliness.
How many more years would she go to sleep alone? How many more nights would she lie here, drowning in tears of pity and sorrow? How many more nights would she agonize over the constricting feeling in her chest, the knowledge he would never smile at her, would never tell her about his day, would never whisper to her again?
It was torturous.
Rolling on to her other side to turn away from the physical sign of his absence, she thought about tonight. She thought about Jackson showing up.
It was a simple gesture, maybe even an awkward one. His blatant nervousness told her he’d second-guessed himself for showing up. She’d seen on his face the fear, the worry of what to say.
But once he’d settled in, they’d relaxed into a comfortable encounter. His presence, his voice, it soothed her. She knew a part of it was she felt a link to Tim when he was close. She felt like someone who also understood Tim on a fundamental level was there, someone she could talk to about his quirks and nuances.
Thinking about it, though, there was something else. It was in the way he looked at her, the way he seemed to know what she needed to hear before she knew herself. It was in his kind gestures, his calm demeanor. It was in his steel-gray eyes.
When she looked into his eyes, she saw a familiarity, an understanding. He wasn’t afraid of her despair, of her hopelessness. He embraced it. He understood it. When she looked at him, she recognized another lost soul. And somehow, it made her feel more hopeful. It made her feel like she wasn’t alone.
To Say Goodbye Page 6