by Taylor Hyer
No luck.
“DAD!”
Nothing.
I ran down the hall to see if he was in his room, and something caught my eye as I passed Jackson’s room. I stopped abruptly as he was curled up in a ball on his bed.
He was hugging my mom’s sweater.
“Jackson!” I exclaimed. “That is not yours.”
He turned around abruptly, looking at me with wide eyes. Jackson must have noticed the scowl that spread across my face, because he began to frown. It was a rare occasion when he did anything to upset me, so he knew it was a big deal.
“It smells like Mommy,” Jackson said, barely audible.
I walked into his room and pulled the sweater from his small grasp. “Don’t go in my room ever again.”
I turned quickly on my heels and stormed out. I think I heard him crying, but in that very moment, I did not have a care in the world. I stomped my feet back to my room, put mom’s cardigan on, and fell asleep in my bed.
I eventually apologized to Jackson for yelling at him, because I realized how hurt and confused he still was about our mom too. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of her never coming home again. Our dad was also struggling with it, though he understood it more than Jackson did.
“I’ve been overseas more than once,” Dad kept saying. “I’ve seen men kill for a good reason, and for no good reason at all; but this? I can’t think of why anyone could possibly think of walking into a peaceful place and simply start shooting. I’ve walked into war zones of awful people, and I cannot even begin to imagine the feeling of an active shooter taking fire on all of those innocent people.”
Dad rambled a lot for months after our mom passed. Sometimes, he’d directly speak to us, but most of the time he was simply talking to the open air; trying to make sense of such a senseless act.
Our mom was the glue of the family. With Dad having such an unsteady travelling job, she kept us together. It wouldn’t have mattered how broken we could become; she would have stuck us back together. Without her, it felt like nothing would ever be right with the three of us again.
Dad could barely look at us, especially me. I knew I was a spitting image of my mother, and it hurt him to look at me and only see her. It even hurt me. The mirror was becoming my worst enemy. The reflection that stared back at me was no longer my own. It was simply a reminder of tougher times, so I avoided them at all costs.
◆◆◆
“Thanks for coming,” RJ said, hugging me tightly. He must’ve sprayed cologne before he exited the locker room, because the strong scent of citrus filled my nose.
“What are you going to do until next season?” I asked.
“Practice with my dad and brothers, as usual,” RJ replied, laughing.
“What school are you guys going to?” I asked, turning toward the twins.
“We both got accepted into Ohio State, Florida State, and Mississippi State,” Landon replied.
“We haven’t decided which one to go to, though,” Leighton added.
Just then, their parents joined our circle. We greeted one another, then silence filled the air. The three boys were staring at their dad, no doubt waiting for him to say something about the game. RJ squeezed my shoulder tighter than I think he intended to, waiting for his dad to criticize some part of their game; ruining the euphoria of a championship win.
Their father cleared his throat, and everyone leaned in. “I could say a lot,” he began, “but I’m just going to say congratulations and great job. We’ll study film next week when we begin training for next season.”
“Next week?” RJ asked. “You’re giving us a week off?”
“I suppose you deserve it,” his dad replied, turning his head toward their mother as if he was looking for validation. She must’ve talked him into giving them a break. Their mother winked at me as she turned away from her husband.
I smiled, and RJ grabbed my hand. “A whole week to hangout,” he said. “What ever shall we do?”
“Homework!” RJ’s mom piped in. Everyone within the group laughed, even Jackson, though I’m sure he had no idea why.
March
RJ
The next few months were a blur. Leighton and Landon both committed to Ohio State, and when that happened, our dad was in full drill sergeant mode. I had never worked so hard in my life, and I still had another year of high school football to complete before college ball.
We practiced and worked out five days a week, and watched any type of game film our dad could find on the sixth day. Sundays were left for us, as my mother made it a new rule. Sundays were my new favorite days because I could spend them with Parker.
Everything about our relationship was going smoothly. We had deep, late night conversations where no topics were off limits. Of course she was still sad about her mother, but time was the best medicine for her.
Every Sunday, we went on a new adventure. I would pick her up at her house and I would drive us to our destination. Sometimes I would pick where we would go, other times she would. My favorite date we went on happened in late January, when neither of us picked where we were going.
“I read online about this cool date idea,” I said to Parker a few days before our weekly date. We usually planned out in advance where we would go so we knew how to dress and what to expect.
“What idea?” Parker replied. We were sitting on her bed one afternoon after football workouts. Her head was resting on my chest, her arm was placed around my waist.
“We don’t choose where we go,” I said. Parker lifted her head up at this statement and looked at me, one eyebrow pulled up in confusion. I continued, “We let a coin do it.”
“How is a coin going to decide where we end up on a date?” Parker laughed, staring deeply into my eyes.
“I read that we flip it for turning left or right, and also to see when we will turn, and then we will end up somewhere random,” I said, doing my best to explain it.
“I’m not sure how a two-sided coin is going to tell us how far to travel,” Parker said. Always a skeptic. “Let me read your phone.” She reached out her hand and I pulled up the article.
“Oh, so it says to decide a number ten to twenty, and that’s how many times we flip every time we reach an intersection,” Parker said, reading intently. She had to have all of the facts before she agreed to do something spontaneous. Her eyes were moving quickly from left to right as she continued to read. “So once we hit that specific number, that’s where we end up. I guess that makes sense, but what if we end up in the middle of nowhere?”
“Then we sit in the middle of nowhere,” I laughed.
“Seems weird, but I’m willing to try it,” Parker stated.
We decided to pack a lunch, just in case the coin did take us off the beaten path. We lived close to the city on one side of us, but to the country on the other side, so the coin could really take us anywhere. This idea excited me, especially since Parker usually wasn’t one to do anything off a whim. She needed to plan a date to make sure she was dressed properly, and so she could tell her father where she was going; he had been acting extra overprotective since Mrs. Williams died. I couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to lose yet another piece of him.
I drove to the end of my driveway and let Parker flip the coin. “Heads we go left, tails we go right,” she decided. The coin landed on heads.
I moved the steering wheel to the left and began to drive. If it would have landed on tails, we would have been headed toward the city. Turning left was more than likely going to bring us to the countryside.
As we drove, we listened to our “Sunday Drive” playlist; a playlist we had created weeks before with our favorite songs to listen to in the car. The playlist grew as new songs were released and discovered. Parker was singing along to Carrie Underwood when we reached the first stop sign. She flipped the coin onto the back of her hand and looked at it carefully. “Take another left,” she smiled.
“If we make four lefts, we’ll jus
t end up back at my house,” I chuckled.
“Sounds like a perfect date to me,” I noticed Parker blushing out of the corner of my eye.
Parker and I were alone at her house a lot, as her dad worked late most nights and weekends. Jackson was always at a friend’s house or an after school program. Things had gotten pretty heated between us a few times as we made out on her bed, but she always stopped me before it could go too far.
I didn’t mind waiting for her, which is something I never thought I would say. Parker was different, though. She was worth waiting for. I knew she had a past with bad experiences, so I wasn’t going to force her into anything. There were times that it felt like she wanted to take our relationship further, but I could tell she was holding back. Flirty comments like the one she made in the car that day always made me confused as to what she wanted, but I was willing to wait and find out.
“Going back to my house is a bad idea,” I countered.
“Why’s that?”
“No one is home,” I said slowly, flirting back.
“Oh, and that’s a bad thing, why?” Parker asked. She had never been this forward before. “Take a right,” she said at the next intersection.
“It wouldn’t be a bad thing,” I replied. “I enjoy spending any time with you, anywhere.” I wanted to be kind, not sexual. I wanted Parker to know that I wasn’t just with her for sex. Though I’m sure she knew that since it had been months since we started dating and had barely made it to third base.
I made a few more lefts and rights at each intersection we crossed. The last intersection was a four-way stop in the middle of nowhere. “I knew we’d end up nowhere,” Parker said.
“Flip the coin one more time,” I replied positively. “I’ll go in that direction until we figure out where we want to stop.”
“Left,” she replied after flipping the coin up in the air and letting it land in her lap.
I turned left one last time and drove as Eminem played through the speakers. I could sense Parker’s disappointment, and prayed for a miracle to happen as we drove. Just as I was hoping, we began to see more than just meadows and cows. Buildings started to come into view as the road narrowed a bit. After I drove around a sharp turn, we were in the middle of a small town with one blinking yellow light.
There were many people walking along both sides of the road toward a large area with a circus-like tent. “Told you we’d find something,” I nudged Parker.
She smiled at me and said, “You should find a parking spot and we can see what’s in the tent.”
I did as she said and we walked with the crowd of people. As we entered the tent, a wave of different smells hit us. There was a table full of candles to our right, along with a row of tables filled with different foods. We had entered a flea market of sorts.
So many people were crowded around different tables; sampling food, smelling candles, trying on scarves, looking at pictures, and so much more. Parker’s eyes widened as we entered further into the tent. The first few rows of tables were mostly filled with different kinds of homemade food or condiments, but the next row of tables really caught her eyes.
Artists were lined up in small coves, surrounded by their paintings and photography. Parker walked delicately through each cove, studying each piece of artwork. Occasionally, she would turn around and smile at me, letting me know she was having a good time. We didn’t talk much for over thirty minutes, but I didn’t mind. It made me happy as I watched her joy increase with every piece of art.
After we made it through each artist’s cove, we walked to the next tent that connected with the one we were in. Parker grabbed my hand and held it as we walked. Her smile stayed glued onto her face. “Mom would have loved this place,” she said euphorically.
I squeezed her hand tightly and said, “The artwork was beautiful. What was your favorite piece?”
“Oh, that sunset on the beach picture I pointed out in the third cove for sure!” Parker said instantly. “My mom loved to paint the sunset, so it reminded me of her. The brushstrokes were so deliberate, too. That artist took their time on that piece; I could tell.”
I watched as she described the painting some more. She moved her free hand in the motion of a paintbrush, and spoke louder every time she said, “It was amazing!” Her eyes lit up as she spoke, and I knew I needed to buy her the painting.
Any time I tried to buy Parker something, she usually wouldn’t let me. We’d go out to lunch, and she insisted on paying half. I would usually win the battle and pay for the entire tab, but she would be silent the entire drive home in protest. Almost every time I went to a gas station, I would buy her a different candy, or her favorite Icee: cherry and banana mixed together. Whenever I went to a grocery store with my family, I would buy her a few flowers, or her favorite box of cereal: Lucky Charms.
“I don’t need all of these gifts,” she would say, “but thank you for always thinking of me.” I typically rolled my eyes and ignored her, because I was happy to make her feel good.
So I knew I needed to buy her that painting, not because gifts prove you love someone, but because I knew it would remind her of this day every time she looked at it. It was such a blissful day, and I wanted it to always be in her memories.
About an hour later, we both needed to use the restroom. The store across the street was allowing customers of the flea market to use their facilities so we walked over there. As soon as Parker walked into the bathroom, I ran out of the store and back into the tent. When I entered the tent, I quickly walked to the third cove and asked the artist for the sunset painting.
I handed him my credit card, signed the receipt, waited for him to wrap it with paper, and ran back out of the tent. Parker was standing on the other side of the street when I exited the tent. She was looking around like a lost puppy, and I felt bad for not telling her where I was going. I set the painting against a light post and crossed the street. I ran up to Parker and hugged her tightly, apologizing for disappearing. She wrapped her small arms around my waist and inhaled, as if she needed to take in my scent.
“I got you something,” I said, smiling devilishly as Parker’s face turned into a frown.
“I don’t like when you say that,” Parker said, looking away from me.
“You’ll love this,” I said back. “I promise.”
I took her hand and we walked back across the street. I stopped in front of the light post as I grabbed the wrapped painting. Before I could even hand it to her, Parker’s face lit up. “You didn’t!” she exclaimed.
She tore the paper from the painting so quickly, yet so delicately; ensuring the painting wouldn’t be touched. As the paper revealed Parker’s favorite painting, the smile on her face grew larger. Parker placed the painting against the light pole again and embraced me into a tight hug.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she repeated. Parker picked up the painting again and began to study it. Her eyes did not move from the painting for a few minutes. We stood in silence as she basked in the glory of the landscape.
Parker lifted her head and glossy eyes stared up at me. They revealed a calm ocean that later overflowed onto her cheeks.
“I think I love you,” Parker said softly, wiping her face.
“I know I love you back,” I smiled, pulling her into my chest. “I wanted to be the first one to say it, though.”
Parker laughed, “Too slow.”
It was the greatest date, because we finally expressed our love out loud, and I had never seen Parker so happy.
Parker
All good things must come to an end. The euphoria I felt in my life with RJ was unlike any feeling. My life had never been so easy, despite the many challenges that were thrown my way, and I should have guessed that the other shoe was going to drop. It did. It dropped hard.
Toward the end of March, we went on one of our usual Sunday adventures. We decided to go to an arcade across town to eat pizza, go bowling, and play the expensive arcade games. We started our date with bowling
and pizza. I was never very good at bowling, but RJ insisted that we play without the bumpers. To no surprise, RJ was a natural at bowling as well.
I was barely able to keep the ball out of the gutter, and consequently, RJ’s score was close to four times higher than mine. We decided to stick to one game, then make our way to the arcade section of the building.
The room was crowded, and we continuously bumped into people. The atmosphere was even louder than the bowling balls hitting against the wooden lanes. Bells and whistles were going off as patrons were yelling at their games. Tickets were constantly spewing from different machines as people of all ages held their heads high from winning the jackpots.
We made our way to a coin machine so we could exchange cash for tokens to play the games. As usual, RJ pulled out his wallet before I even had the chance. I rolled my eyes at him, thought about protesting, but decided against it. He always won those fights.
Once we put our tokens into a cup, I decided to use the restroom before we got too into playing games. “I’ll be right back,” I said, kissing RJ on the lips.
I slowly moved through the crowd of people, trying to avoid any sort of contact the best I could. I almost made it to the women’s restroom before it happened; before he happened. I was distracted by a young girl running up to her mother with a bundle of tickets wrapped around her arms. Her smile spread across her face. I remember she was missing one of her front teeth.
I remember it all too well. I remember his hands grabbing my shoulders as I bumped into him. Before I could even apologize, chills went through my body. Something was wrong. I turned to face him, and I could feel the color leave my face.
“Hello, Parker,” he said smoothly, his breath warm on my cheeks.
One of his hands stayed on my shoulder, and it remained there as I tried to shake him off. “Let go,” I said, my voice shaking.