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No Day Like Today

Page 13

by Amy Teegan


  Ian is not tired — it’s not even eleven. He’s used to staying up much later. So he might as well do something. He pulls out his laptop, settles back against his headboard and opens a new browser window. While the wifi connects, he pauses with his hands over the keys. Where does he want to go first? It is June, so the Finals are probably just over.

  He types ‘Lakers trade rumors’ into Google and hits enter. He would start here and see if he could somehow find himself again.

  10:48pm Kristy

  Kristy walks in her front door at ten till eleven. She had had to thread through the crowd to say good-bye to Lindsay and Ryan and wish them a happy honeymoon. Then she had that long walk down the driveway and across the street to where her car was. Then, of course, there was the regular Saturday night traffic on the 101. It was a long road home. At least Marta had parked at Kristy’s house so she had not had to make another tour. Thank god Nick had been waiting at the door for her — he opens it as Marta’s car pulls away.

  “Hi, honey. How did it go? You okay?” He meets her on the front walk way to take her heavy camera bag from her and hand her a drink.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you all about it, but I need to do something online real quick before I go to bed.”

  “Ok! You go do that, put on your swimsuit. Or not. And I’ll meet you out back?”

  She smiles and kisses him. It’s so nice to be home. He sets her camera bag just inside the door to her office and leaves her alone.

  She needs it. She has been with a crowd of strangers all night. Now is finally the time to be alone. Now that she has come to the moment of decision she needs to make this happen by herself. Nick only ever supports her choices, but this is something she needs to do without any input from anyone.

  Kristy opens her laptop. Internet browser, the admin page of her website, and opens a new blank blog post.

  The cursor blinks at her.

  She is going to quit photography.

  Not just weddings. All professional photography. Now that she is on the downhill side of this decision she can see clearly all the signs her body had been giving her, all the indications that she isn’t really happy. Kristy does some quick calculations — she can’t afford to back out of the weddings she has already booked so she would have to shoot them. Twelve more total.

  She can do that. Just twelve more.

  She can not wait to tell Nick. He will be happy if this makes her happy. She needs to tell him as soon as possible — otherwise she will talk herself out of it.

  She takes a breath and starts typing: I am so excited to announce my retirement from photographing weddings…

  As she writes out her announcement, Kristy feels the doubt receding. Putting this all in words is not only helping her clarify her thoughts, but also reminding her that she has completely valid reasons for stepping away from this business.

  She rereads her words.

  She slowly takes a breath. Kristy wants to feel the air all the way to the bottom of her lungs. She lets it out slowly as she hit ‘publish’.

  Once she confirms the information is out in the world, Kristy immediately closes her laptop and gets up from the desk. She will back up the photos tomorrow. If she stays on the computer she might give in to her second thoughts.

  She will have to find some other career, but that can wait. Right now, her husband and the hot tub wait for her.

  10:57pm Dylan

  Dylan opens the front door to find his mom slumped into the couch, groping for the television remote. She does not appear to be looking that hard, but she’ll still never notice that it is on the floor next to her.

  He crouches down to grab it for her and hands it over without saying a word. She gives him a grateful, teary smile before directing her attention to the gadget in her hand.

  He stands behind the couch, and immediately notices that there are some framed photos missing from the top of the mantel. Not more than two or three, but his dad must have taken them. His only claim to their shard belongings — copies of photos that Mom probably has backed up digitally in four different places.

  She punches the on button. Punches it again when the television doesn’t respond quickly enough.

  “Here, Mom. Let me help you.”

  He can navigate away from the Blu-Ray player and into the Netflix queue in as few clicks as possible. Something that would have taken her way too long. Now that he thinks about it, she may not have ever turned on the television since they got Netflix. In literally years. He can’t remember ever seeing her sit down to watch a movie without him or his dad around.

  He cannot remember the last time he has seen her actually relax like this.

  He’s still standing behind her, but can see her wipe away a tear.

  She needs him as much as Dad does.

  Dylan squeezes his mom’s hand and leaves her to her Friends marathon.

  10:59pm Marshall

  Marshall drops his keys. He tries to stifle his groan as he bends down to pick them up. At least the hallway is well lit.

  As soon as the thought crosses his mind, the bulb closest to him flickers.

  It’s late. For Marshall, yes, but also for every other resident of this apartment complex. They all go to bed

  They’re all old. And living alone. Just like him.

  Nevertheless, he tries to remain as quiet as possible as he lets himself inside and locks the door behind him. No point in ruining anyone else’s evening.

  Because his night had been ruined. He had woken up that morning looking forward to spending the afternoon and evening at a family wedding and had ended it up left behind and completely ignored by everyone who is supposed to love him the most.

  The only people who had taken time to talk to him the entire night had been the staff. The hired help. The people who were being paid to be there. Not one member of his family had taken the time to sit down with him at all. Not any of his two kids, two kids-in-law or thirteen grandchildren. Sophie did, bless her heart. But Marshall wonders if even that would have happened if her mother had been more attentive.

  He hurries to remove his clothes, get a glass of water and crawl into bed.

  As he pulls the blankets up over him, Marshall looks at the clock. 10:59pm. He will be awake again in just a few hours.

  On his nightstand, next to his book, is his bottle of sleeping pills. He has needed these pills nearly every night for at least a year. His doctor is understanding and kind, but refuses to increase his dosage.

  His body is so tired, but he knows his brain won’t give in.

  He tips the plastic bottle, leaving two of the pills in his palm. He swallows them quickly with a single gulp of water and lies down.

  Marshall loves his family. Of course. He doesn’t deny that even to himself. But he honestly wonders sometimes how much they love him. How much they will really miss him when he is gone.

  He sits up again to take two more pills. As late as it is, his mind is still racing and he needs the help to sleep.

  He feels like he can’t breathe. The pills will slow his racing heart and help him forget the day.

  He has already taken is much more than the recommended dose, but Marshall just wants to sleep. He wants to turn off the thoughts in his head. He just wants it to end. He finishes all the pills that are in the bottle, taking the time to drink plenty of water to help them dissolve more quickly.

  Marshall closes his eyes, willing the pills to work and release him from this day.

  Afterword

  Thank you so much for reading No Day Like Today. If you loved the book, a review on your favorite retailer would help me out more than I can possibly tell you.

  Thank you to that one drunk groomsman who was at the last wedding I ever photographed and without whom this book would not exist.

  Thank you to all the wedding professionals who make these magical days happen.

  Thank you to my author friends who helped and encouraged me at every step.

  Thank you to my beta readers, especially Mik
e, for pushing me to get this book out.

  Thank you to you, my reader, my new favorite person. I’m so glad you’re here.

  About the Author

  Amy Teegan is a reader, writer and traveler living in Austin, Texas.

  Follow her at amyteegan.com.

 

 

 


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