To Say Goodbye

by Lindsay Detwiler

  She barely knew Jackson. She only knew of his connections to Tim. A piece of her, though, wanted to know more. She wanted to know just Jackson, the man behind the friendship. She wanted to know what caused the ache in his eyes. She wanted to help him sort through the demons he was facing, the demons clearly written into the lines on his rigid face. She wanted to know how he got to who he was today, what he’d faced along the way. She wanted to help him the way he was helping her.

  Her stomach fell, and she turned back over to face Tim’s spot.

  An unfamiliar feeling settled into her, and she set her jaw rigid.

  Guilt.

  She shouldn’t be lying here, thinking about another man. Sure, the feelings were platonic. She would never feel something for Jackson. He was Tim’s best friend. That would be ridiculous. Still, it somehow felt wrong that as her husband’s side of the bed lay empty only months after his death, she lay here thinking about another man on his birthday.

  She wouldn’t do this, she couldn’t. She could be friends with Jackson if she guarded herself. She wouldn’t let anything grow between them that could be misconstrued. She would protect her heart from all men. She wouldn’t let them in.

  She couldn’t, after all. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Tim, the man who had been the love of her life, who always would be. Her heart was gone, given away to the waiter at Mama’s Diner all those years ago. He’d never given it back, not even when he left this world, not even when she tossed the final white rose on his grave.

  Her heart was six feet under, rotting away.

  As she drifted off to sleep, she thought back to a memory of Tim, replacing her guilty musings of Jackson with one of her favorite dates with her husband.

  _______________

  Sophia could feel the biting cold seeping into her skin, even through her hat, gloves, scarf, and ski coat. It was the kind of cold, snowy night where all was silent, where everything seemed preserved in a glassy cast. Her boots crunched in the snow as she followed Tim up the hill, her breaths coming in heavy pants from the exertion.

  What had they been thinking?

  He turned to look at her, his cheeks reddened from the cold. “Whose idea was this, anyway?” he teased.

  She gave him a playful scowl.

  “We’ll be there soon.”

  The battle of boredom had usurped them for the past two days. The town was in a state of emergency, so everything was closed down. Tim had stayed home to work from their home office. Pink Lemonade was shut down, buried under two feet of snow.

  The first day had been a glorious gift, Tim easily distracted from his work by her. They’d spent most of Wednesday tucked under their fluffy down comforter, basking in the warmth of their body heat.

  The second day of the snow emergency, which brought another seven inches, had been relaxing. She had sat in her cozy socks and yoga pants binge watching Orange is the New Black for a second time while Tim caught up on some trial preparations. She’d made a crockpot meal for dinner, and they’d enjoyed a few glasses of wine.

  By the third day, however, the prospect of another at-home day was maddening when an ice storm coated the already treacherous snow. Sophia wasn’t the sit-still kind of girl. She was antsy, always fidgeting, and doing. It drove Tim crazy—she never sat still, whether they were watching a movie or eating dinner. A third day of laziness might, in fact, drive her over the edge.

  “I’m going crazy! Can we please go somewhere?” she demanded earlier in the evening, stomping into Tim’s office and plopping herself on the desk in front of him.

  He smiled, shoving some papers aside as he put his hands on her knees. “Sorry, I left my team of sled dogs up North.”

  “I can’t stand doing nothing.”

  “There’s plenty to do. I mean, the filing cabinet needs to be cleaned out, the curtains could be ironed...”

  She playfully hit him. “Then why don’t you do it, you sexist ass.”

  “I’m not the bored one.”

  “Yeah, because you’re too busy being boring and doing work.”

  “I could take a break and spice things up with you if you want.” He stood now, leaning to kiss her neck.

  “While that sounds wonderful, I still want to get out of this house.”

  “Oh, we’re getting really spicy now, huh?” He grinned the boyish grin she knew all too well.

  “Stop it, you maniac. I just want to go shopping, go do something.”

  He kissed her cheek. “If you’re not out spending money, you’re not happy, huh?”

  She was, admittedly, a bit of a shopaholic. Luckily, his salary combined with her money from the salon let her quench her consumeristic cravings frequently.

  “I don’t care where we go. I just need out of here.”

  He contemplated the situation, glancing out the window. “My truck is snowed in, and I don’t feel like uncovering it yet. Plus, the roads aren’t safe. How about we walk to the town center? We could check out the Chinese restaurant, get some food. Maybe some of the boutique shops will be open.”

  “Really? Have you seen the weather lately, genius?”

  “The Chinese restaurant is always open. The owners live above the restaurant. Trust me.”

  “So you suggest we trudge through almost two feet of snow, uphill, to get some Chinese food?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who can’t stand being all alone in a house with a hunk.”

  She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Fine. I’ll go get ready.”

  So here they were, traipsing through snow, sweating from the exertion of uneven steps. They followed the road, which was barren of cars, and finally made it to the center of town.

  She turned the corner of the block and cheered gleefully.

  “It’s open! It’s actually open.”

  Tim smiled. “Did you doubt me?”

  “Yes. And the whole way up the hill, I was contemplating your murder when we arrived.”

  Tim reached in his pocket. “Oh, shit. Hold on to those murder thoughts.”

  She stopped, her heart sinking. “What?”

  “I forgot my wallet. Shit.” He put a hand up to his brow, scrunching his face in disbelief.

  “Are you kidding me? Oh my God, so we walked this whole way, and you forgot money?”

  “I’m so sorry, Soph. I think we’re going to have to go back.”

  She was so disappointed and unreasonably angry. To have walked so far and to be so close. She was enraged.

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  A smirk formed on his face. He tried to fight it, tried to push it back, but the angrier she grew, the more it surfaced.

  “Wait a second. Let me see your pocket.” She practically mauled him, reaching into his front pocket. Her fingers felt the familiar leather. She pulled it out as he backed away, laughing.

  He was guffawing by now. “You should’ve seen your face. You looked like you were going to cry.”

  She had a new rage now, and she flew over to him, hitting him with his wallet. “You’re such an idiot.” By now, though, she was laughing audibly, too.

  A playful fight ensued, which ended with her picking up a handful of snow, hurriedly forming a lopsided snowball, and hurling it in his face.

  “You want to play?” He grabbed her around the waist. She tried to kick and claw, to fight away, but it was no use. With his free hand, he scooped snow off the ledge of the nearby business’s window and shoved it down her back. She squealed, kicking free.

  They both panted, exhausted from their ridiculous horseplay.

  “Thank God no one is around to see us acting like children.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

  “After you, Mrs. Clawson.”

  He headed to the door, holding it wide open.

  For the next hour, they had Great Wall of China to themselves. They feasted on their favorites, General Tso’s chicken and chicken with broccoli. They joked about her client from hell
on Monday and talked about his upcoming trial. They talked about the trip to Fiji they needed to plan and pondered over whether they were too young to retire to Florida.

  They talked about going to see the adoption counselor next month and maybe getting the ball rolling on children.

  “How are we ever going to be good parents? We’re terrible adults ourselves.”

  “I like to call myself youthful,” Tim argued as he shoved some chicken in his mouth.

  Sophia averted her eyes. She tried to fight the familiar, ugly pang in her chest, but she couldn’t. Tim, always perceptive, noticed. He put down his fork and slid his hand across the table, cradling hers.

  “Soph, it’s fine. We’ve got time.”

  “We’re almost thirty.” She bit her lip and sighed, frustrated at the words. Almost thirty. And no children in sight.

  “Oh stop. It’s just a number. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to be fine. Someday, you’ll look back and realize it all worked out.”

  She smiled, feeling sentimental. “You’re right. It’s going to be okay.” And she believed it. Despite what they’d been through, despite the sadness that had almost drowned her three years ago, she was okay. Tim made sure of it. Looking at him eating his meal, she realized they were lucky, despite everything. She spoke up, breaking the silence. “You know, I think the best thing I’ve ever done is marry the guy sitting across from me.”

  He smiled back, a genuine smile. “Oh man, does this mean I have to reply with a cheesy sentiment, too? Because I was going to say the best thing I ever did was trade my Chrysler in for my pickup.”

  She stabbed at him with her chopstick, but she laughed. Tim was always the funny one, the teasing one. He was rational to a fault, logical. But he had the quirky side few people saw. She was glad their conversations were easy, playful.

  Theirs was not the typical relationship. They both had a wild streak to them that only complemented the wild streak in the other. They were sassy and teasing, playful and restless. They were two spirited people, spirited in different ways, trying to settle into this thing called adulthood.

  Now, they were getting ready to take a big step toward being grown-ups.

  Adoption had been a word floating around their home for a few months now, a word that scared her but excited her. She was anxious to have children, but she was also fearful of how she would handle new responsibilities.

  Looking across the table, though, at the goofy lawyer she called husband, her fears softened. Tim made everything possible. With him, she never felt in over her head. He was a true partner, a true comfort. They could do anything together.

  “I love you,” she said seriously, putting her chopsticks down.

  “I love you, too.”

  _______________

  They were such simple times, such simple words. In the moment, it had been just an average albeit cold date. Now, she would give anything to go back. She would give anything to talk about their work and kids. She would give anything to hear him say those words she’d heard so often but never really took the time to hear at all.

  It wasn’t so long ago she was the playful almost thirty-year-old eating Chinese food with her husband across from her, hitting him with his wallet for being mischievous. Now, though, it felt like a different life, a different couple, a different her.

  That snowy, simple day, she had no way of knowing eventually, she’d be lying here, alone, all of their dreams of Fiji and Florida and children vanishing like a snowflake in July.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SOPHIA

  “How was your date with Larry?” Sophia asked the next morning as she sipped on her tall latte. It was Sunday, and Pink Lemonade was closed for the day. This had been their Sunday tradition since they opened the shop—breakfast at Christine’s Coffee Company down the street.

  A familiar look overtook Stella’s face, and she looked up to the sky. “Perfect. Magical. Awesome. I think I’m falling for him. Which is crazy, right? I mean, I don’t usually fall for a guy like him.”

  Sophia broke apart the cinnamon roll on her plate, smiling. It wasn’t crazy Stella was falling hard and fast. She always did.

  Over the years as Sophia went slow and steady with Tim, Stella had whirled through at least a dozen boyfriends. There was Jeremy, the guy she met when she tripped over his leg on the bus. There was Anthony, the nerdy accountant Stella had dated for six months in her late twenties when she decided it was time to mature her tastes in men. There’d been Carlos, the wild rocker, who had ended in an almost violent breakup when Stella found him in bed with another woman. There had been a man of every type.

  Which was okay, Sophia thought. Stella was still figuring it all out. She wore her heart on her sleeve, wasn’t afraid to fall in love, wasn’t afraid to try and try again.

  If she were going through this, she wouldn’t be afraid to get back out there, Sophia thought and then scolded herself. She loved Tim. She still loved Tim, and she always would. She didn’t need to move on.

  Still, the thought of being all alone for the next several decades was frightening. She thought about the empty loneliness of their bed, the stark contrast from the warmth of lying beside a lover. She thought about facing everything from broken water heaters to snow removal to financial decisions all by herself. She thought about dying a childless, broken old woman. It was terrifying.

  But moving on, well, that was terrifying too.

  “Sophia?”

  She snapped back. She had a habit of drifting off these days, and she felt terrible about it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. What were you saying?”

  Stella just smiled. “You know, if you weren’t my best friend, I might be pissed that I’m boring you so much.”

  “You’re not boring me.”

  “I know, I’m just teasing. Anyway, I was asking how you are. I know it can’t be easy. Sometimes I feel guilty for talking about Larry, especially after the whole Mama’s thing.”

  “Stella, it’s fine. It’s not like I can close down Mama’s just so I don’t have to think about it.”

  “I mean, we could. I could claim food poisoning or something and get them shut down.” Stella grinned as she moved the cup of hot chocolate to her lips. Her eyes were covered in a shimmery, loud purple shadow today. On Sophia, it would look garish. On Stella, it looked amazing.

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Does this fine have anything to do with a gorgeous man named Jackson? One of my clients saw him stop by your house.”

  “He just stopped by to check on me.”

  “Oh, come on. He’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. I think there’s more to it.”

  “Stella, stop.” Sophia fiddled with her coffee, the conversation making her uncomfortable.

  “Come on, Sophia. There’s no harm in admitting he’s pretty attractive,” Stella prodded.

  “Some might say he’s good-looking, but it’s irrelevant.”

  “Everyone would say he’s good-looking unless they’re sexually dead inside.”

  “Well, that would be me these days.”

  “Oh stop. You’re not. I see the way your eyes light up when you say his name.”

  “Stella, seriously.” Sophia felt herself shutting down, felt herself getting uncharacteristically angry with her friend. “He was just checking on me. He was Tim’s best friend for God’s sake. And Tim hasn’t been gone very long. I’m not ready. Nowhere near it. I don’t think I ever will be.”

  Stella softened, reaching over to grab Sophia’s hand. “I know. Not yet. But don’t shut down completely. Don’t close yourself off. Tim wouldn’t want that.”

  “Shut myself off to what?”

  “Possibility.”

  “There is no possibility with Jackson. None.”

  “That’s not what I see. I saw him look at you at the bar. I see you light up when you talk about him.”

  “Because he gets it, Stella. He gets it. He knew Tim, as well as I knew him. He knows what this loss
is like, at least better than most. I can talk to him.”

  Stella put her hands up as if to say she was done. “Okay. I’m glad you have him then. Cling to anything that makes this bearable. Anything at all.”

  Sophia returned to her cinnamon roll, trying to push the whole conversation, the whole concept of possibility out of her head.

  _______________

  Sophia turned the radio to the classical station. She didn’t want to hear any love songs, didn’t want to be slapped in the face with words about lost lovers. She just wanted to drive, take in the sight of the fall leaves, and focus on her visit.

  Her mom had been insistent she not come alone.

  “We’ll come to you, dear. It’s okay. We like the drive,” Clarissa had said when Sophia called yesterday about coming up.

  “Mom, I’m fine. I want to get out of town. It’ll be good for me to come to you.”

  “Sophia, really. Your father and I aren’t doing anything anyway. Why go through the trouble of driving here?”

  “Mom, I’m not a fragile flower. I’m fine.”

  Her mom had sighed, finally giving in.

  Sophia loved her parents. Over the past few months, they’d driven the two-hour drive to visit her almost every week, making excuses to check in on her. It was good to have them there, good to be kept busy. But she needed to get out of the house now, away from the memories. She wanted to visit her childhood home, sleep in her childhood room, remember a time when life was simpler.

  She had driven this drive so many times with Tim when they were dating, when they were married. She’d been blessed to have parents and a husband who got along splendidly. Tim was the son her father never had, and they always joked and laughed like old friends.

  Pulling into the driveway, Sophia could see her mom in the living room window, peering out. She blasted to the front door, rushing down the driveway before Sophia was even out of her car.

  “Hey, Mom,” Sophia said as she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and started getting out.