No reaction.
Will she ever hear me again?
I follow Jack out into his main living space and kitchen, the cottage basically a square cut into three rooms. He’s dropping ice into a bucket-glass as I show up, and he passes me again, this time for the whiskey. Can’t blame him after what he just went through, but I watch as he sips and take note of the inner calm I feel. He wouldn’t have been chosen if he were like Barry used to be.
What must the guy think, suddenly feeling he should drive to a bridge he probably hasn’t been to in months, finding his urgent sense of purpose wasn’t a fluke. Discovering Abby there, then saving her life purely by his instinct alone.
What a coincidence, he must be saying to himself. How odd, perfect timing, an accident. All of the things people tell themselves when they’re lucky.
As he flops onto his sofa, a shelf I hadn’t noticed until now, carved into the wall by his front door, pulls my focus. There’s a framed photograph I need to see, and I cross to look at Jack with his arm around a pretty woman with red hair, both of them smiling at me. His late wife kinda looks like my Abby.
“You just had to go and be a good guy.”
Chapter 41
Abby
It’s been two months since I’ve seen Max, and every day I speak to him, but hear nothing. It’s strange, because it doesn’t feel like it used to, before he appeared to me as a ghost.
There’s a sense of calm in my heart now, like maybe he walked into the light so many people have spoken of, those with near-death experiences who came back to tell the tale.
At our cabin, and everywhere else I go, it doesn’t feel as if he’s here anymore, and my grief has shifted, too. It’s tinged with gratitude that I had more time with him, a gift I can’t ever repay.
Jack has been wearing me down, invitations patient and persistent. I haven’t had him to our cabin, it just feels wrong. But I went to dinner with him a few chaste evenings. I spent several afternoons at his farm where I kind of loved watching him with his animals. The goat, Sheba, acts more like a dog, following him around. Chickens run freely in the daytime within a pen. He explained they tuck themselves into their little house at night, and yes, there are fresh eggs. “Cage free,” he laughed, which made me smile.
He’s got the same goofiness that Max had, and his jokes are sometimes so dumb they’re hilarious.
I feel comfortable around him.
Tonight we’re going to P&G’s on Main Street again, the place casual — so casual I won’t notice it’s a date. That’s his strategy, I’ve come to realize. Only this time the invitation came with a warning that he’d like to talk to me about something. Don’t have to reach for what that is.
To make a decision, I’ve driven to the places Max and I went most often, talked to him when I was alone, and sat quietly by myself when hikers passed.
Even though I can’t feel his presence anymore, I had to be sure, try one last time to reach him, before I listened to Jack’s pitch. I’m alive. I chose to be in the game a little longer. And I can’t help but think that Max brought Jack to save me that night. It’s so strange to believe it, but one afternoon at his farm, I was brave enough to bring up the embarrassing subject.
“What were you doing that night?”
He frowned, “What do you mean?”
“Were you just driving down that road?”
Jack blinked, no question of which road, which night. It’s always hung in the air between us. The sunlight shown in his eyes as he removed his baseball hat, rubbed his head and stared out at the horses grazing in the distance. “No, I was at home.”
“What?”
He cleared his throat, put his hat back on, tightened it, and explained, “I was reading a book and felt compelled to go there. So I went.”
We locked eyes as mine became slits under a frowned, “You felt compelled to go to that exact bridge?”
He nodded, “Yeah,” and looked out at the horses again. “Crazy, right?”
“Very,” I whispered, walking to pet Sheba who’d chosen that moment to remember we existed, hooves clomping up from the other direction as Jack’s gaze, with grass in her mouth like she’d been interrupted.
“I felt like I had to go,” Jacks exhaled, the next moment confessing, “It’s been gnawing at me that I almost didn’t listen to my instincts that night. I can’t believe I almost stayed home.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
He looked back and frowned, “Me too.”
It had to be Max. That’s what my instincts are telling me, that he brought Jack and I together to help me live the rest of my life with someone, a man who can hold my hand if I ever fall again.
Chapter 42
Max
Three months since Jack convinced Abby to make it official, and take friendship up a notch. Yet I’m still here.
It’s not fun.
I can tell ya that.
She’s selling our cabin. He’s never been to it, never questioned why. As a widower, he understands.
This cottage where they’re living now, his wife never knew. After Emma died, he sold their house and moved here, holed up in a tiny space on a major piece of land to let nature lend a hand in healing. Kinda bugs me how grounded he is. No, that’s not true. I’m happy he doesn’t have a screw loose.
I’m just pissed off she can’t hear me. Am I going to spend the rest of her life watching her live it with him? I want her happy, I do. It’s just so fucking painful to be cut out.
Spring is here, and Abs is wearing the t-shirt she wore the day she convinced Barry and Lorna I’m real. Only now she’s in shorts, on the lawn outside of the cottage, beside a hill covered in wild flowers. I’m standing here, too, a glutton for punishment. I just don’t want to leave her.
Abs is talking on the phone with her sister, and Barry’s living in Lorna’s Manhattan loft now.
Time moves on, everyone changes.
“I'm taking a gardening class.”
I can hear Lorna say, “Shut up.”
Abby smiles, “No I actually like it. There's something very meditative about getting my fingers dirty with raw earth.”
Jack walks up, “Did I hear dirty and raw?”
“Yeah you did.”
I roll my eyes, and turn my back on the both of them.
Lorna asks, “Is that Jack?”
“Yeah it's him.”
Who else would it be, Lorna, huh?
I hear Barry call out, “Hey, tell that guy I'm still not sure about him.”
“I will not. Ignore Barry, but you can tell Jack that I said he's turned you into a bumpkin. Next thing I know you'll be listening to country.”
Abby lies, teasing her sister, “Oh we're listening to it right now.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Abs laughs, “I’m kidding. Classic rock all the way. Listen I have to go. We're going to go to the store and get a book on mulch.”
“That sounds gross,” returns Lorna and I can hear the happiness in her voice that Abby found someone to finally touch. Fucking Lorna. Still not a fan. Nope, not a fan at all.
With her gone, Abby tucks away the phone and I avert my eyes again, hear them kissing, Jack asking, “Ready to go?”
She hums, “Mmmhmm.”
“Let's hit it.”
I look over in time to see him take her hand, and my eyes close. Think I’ll sit this one out and stay here on the farm. It really is something. I thought our property was nice, and the cabin certainly is a step up from his cottage, but…you can’t ignore the value living animals bring to a home. Kinda wish we’d gotten a pet, now that I’ve been hanging around so many of them here. The crowing rooster — turns out they don’t just crow at dawn, but all day long — doesn’t bother me. I like Hank. We hang out. He’s got a lot of ladies. I told him I respect that. Lucky rooster.
“Max? Are you here?”
I’m pulled by the sound again, like I was at the bridge. Only this time it’s a beautiful day, warm breeze and birds i
n flight above. Abby’s alone, but this time at the other place where she almost joined me — where we hiked that day. The cliff.
“You haven’t come back here, baby, what’re doing here?” I ask her, and get no reaction.
She looks out at where we were, and lowers herself, every plateau revisited until she’s at the edge where she held on.
“Abby, look, I’m okay! I know you’re moving on and I want you to, even though I don’t want you to. Baby, listen to me, please enjoy your life. I’ll be waiting for you. I promise.”
Abby sits down, cross-legged and inhales deeply, “I just thought I'd try just one last time. I'm so sorry I couldn't jump, I just…” She blinks over the valley, across to the trees that are so far away they’re miniaturized. “If you're listening...I love you. Always.”
I sit down with her, feel the final goodbye she’s giving me, and stay until she leaves.
Chapter 43
Max
I’ve been thinking about it all day, since Abby’s goodbye.
I have to move on, too.
I can’t watch anymore.
Perhaps I’ll see the world.
A few hours before dawn I kneel by their bed, on Abby’s side, my heart aching as I smile with tears in my eyes, “Goodbye Abigail Lyons. You made life worth living.” Like we used to do, I blow her a kiss, one she can’t catch anymore.
A single tear slips down her cheek while she sleeps.
Did her subconscious hear me?
I stand like a human man would, and vanish like the ghost that I am, with only one destination in mind. The forest outside our cabin, it’s For Sale sign in the distance, crickets chirping in shadows as I surrender, “I did what you want. So why am I here? She can't see me anymore. You blocked me out. So why am I still here?”
“Max?” comes a whisper that pulls me away without my meaning to go. To my parent’s bedroom where they sleep. Dad says my name again, eyes closed, frowning like he’s having a nightmare.
I kneel by the bed beside him, “I’m here, Dad. I'm here.”
He whispers, “I miss you.”
I’m so relieved he heard me, I break down, half-laughing, half-crying, “I love you, Dad. I love you so much!”
He's talking in his sleep, but maybe like Abby’s tear when I said goodbye, there’s a space between dreams, reality, and my world, where we’ve gotten through.
As I kiss just above his forehead, it relaxes.
“Let go.”
Stunned by his statement. Let go? Light illuminates not only his face, but Mom’s too. The entire room is bathed in light and I look to my right and see a door that wasn’t there before. I rise. It’s up to me to walk through. But what’s on the other side? The light feels good, but I’m still scared of it. Still…it’s time to make a choice.
I whisper, “Hold on. Just one more,” and walk to the other side, kneeling by Mom. “I love you so much, Ma. Thank you for being so strong.”
Her lungs relax, body softening.
I stand and slowly walk to the door, glance back for one last look at my folks, and walk through, blinded by light.
Chapter 44
Abby
Bathed in sunlight, a flock of geese fly overhead as I wait on our bridge in the beige slip and robe I wore the night of my big decision.
As expected, Max appears at the end of the path, green forest behind him that’s traveled by so many. He blinks away the brightness of his transition, eyes focusing on the beautiful new scenery. He sees me but says nothing at first, because he’s not sure he can trust his eyes. “Abby?”
I smile, so happy he’s back, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Our environment shifts to SoHo, Manhattan, the neighborhood where we were happy together. Right now we’re on Wooster Street, to be exact. I’m in the black lace dress I wore the night he first said, “I love you,” and he’s in the well-tailored black suit and burgundy tie from that night, as well. The restaurant we’d eaten at prior to that perfect moment, is just around the corner from here, the same restaurant we held our engagement party to celebrate our coming marriage and the adventures it would bring.
Max, here with me now, can’t finish the sentence, “But…” because he’s so confused, his blue eyes locked on me and not the changing scenery.
I smile, “You were here, but then you went there, so you could come back here, now.” We’re back on the bridge again as I smile, saying gently, “Don't think about it.” And back to SoHo, on the cobblestone street, my hair blowing in the breeze as I reassure him, “You'll remember soon. It's a little fuzzy when people first come through.”
We’re enveloped in white light next, the two of us, as my husband comes closer.
I can see the question in him, how am I here when he just left me, just said goodbye, so I share the most valuable piece of information this new world holds: “Time isn't the same here.”
His eyes are clearing, distance between our bodies disappearing with each step. “What about...?
I blink to understand since he didn’t finish his sentence, and realize he’s asking why it’s him I’m with and not the man he brought to help me heal. “Jack's with Emma now,” I explain, knowing that they’re happy. “We kept each other company during our living years.” On a loving whisper I add, “Thank you for that.”
We’re in SoHo again. Max has that look in his eyes, the one I love so much. Like he’s about to kiss me. And it’s all I can think about, too.
“So, you and me?” He points between us.
I smile, “Soulmates, idiot. I hate to tell you, but you're stuck with me.”
With all the pain and relief and love he’s held onto while he kept me company in my grief, Max kisses me.
Throwing my arms around him, smiling through our kisses, I give myself to my husband, environment changing around us as it offers places we loved, and will love together, forever.
As we promised.
The End.
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Faleena Hopkins is an American author, actress, and filmmaker whose novels have sold over a million copies worldwide. She lives in New York City with her rescue dog Sophia where she drinks too
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Just One More Kiss: Based on the Motion Picture Page 14