With Every Breath

by Everhart, Allie

  "Yeah, I'm here." She pauses. "You don't have to do this."

  "You don't either."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You don't have to stay on the phone with me. If you want to go to sleep, I'll understand."

  "That's not what I meant. I meant that I didn't want to keep you up."

  "I won't sleep tonight. I didn't last night either."

  "You didn't?"

  "I was up all night thinking about how Seth was alive a year ago last night. He called me and asked if I'd come see Dad. He kept telling me Dad was getting worse but he didn't want to put him in a home until we both agreed it was time. I told him I'd be there the next day. Good thing he called me because it turned out to be the last time I saw my brother. I got to say goodbye, even though at the time I didn't know that's what it was."

  "What'd you guys do that day? Before it happened?"

  "We took Dad fishing. We got up before dawn, went down to the lake and fished. I hadn't seen Dad smile that much in years. He had his two boys and a fishing pole. He couldn't have been happier."

  "So he wasn't confused? He knew what was going on?"

  "He was a lot better back then. He forgot things but he knew who we were. He really declined after the accident. I think the shock and pain from losing his son made his dementia even worse. The doctors disagree but I know my dad and I know a part of him died the day we lost Seth. He gave up what little fight he had left and it's been downhill ever since. Anyway, that's what's been keeping me up. That, and memories of Seth."

  "You think it'll ever stop?" she asks quietly.

  "The memories?"

  "Yeah. Do you think you'll ever be able to sleep again?"

  "I usually sleep fine, just not this week. Anniversaries are tough, especially the first. Same for you?"

  "I haven't been able to sleep since it happened."

  "Not at all?"

  "I sleep an hour or two a night but that's about it. When I fall asleep I dream of the accident and then I wake up."

  She's really struggling, even more than I thought. She should be getting better by now. I assume she's seeing a counselor but if so, they're not doing a good job.

  "What does your counselor say?" I ask.

  "I don't have one. I did, but it wasn't helping so I stopped going."

  "Then who do you talk to about this?"

  "My uncle, but I stopped doing that too because it seemed to be making him sadder. And I thought if I stopped talking about her, maybe I'd start feeling better."

  "But you're not."

  "No. And I can't make the memories go away, especially at night."

  "Skye, you need to talk to someone. Find a different counselor. Someone who can actually help."

  "It wouldn't do any good. Nobody understands what this is like. They weren't there that night. They don't know what happened."

  "But you could tell them."

  "No," she says, her voice shaky. "I can't. I won't."

  "Why not?"

  "I just...I can't."

  "Could you tell ME?"

  "No!" she yells. "Stop talking about this!"

  I pause to let her calm down, then say, "I get you don't want to talk about it but that's probably why you're not sleeping. You need to talk about it and work through it."

  "I didn't ask for your advice," she snaps.

  "As you get to know me, you'll quickly learn I give out advice whether you ask for it or not."

  "Well, you're wasting your time because I'm not taking your advice."

  "Skye, you need to sleep. How are you even functioning?"

  "Energy drinks. Lots of coffee."

  "That's not healthy, and eventually your body won't respond to that shit anymore. You have classes. Homework. You need be awake for that stuff."

  "I don't care about school. I wasn't even going to—" She stops suddenly.

  "You weren't going to what? Finish school?"

  "It doesn't matter. I think I'm gonna go. I'll watch TV or maybe I'll read a book."

  "You're hanging up?"

  "I don't have anything else to say, so—"

  "Would you stay? We don't have to talk. I just really don't want to be alone. And having you there, even if you don't say anything, seems to help."

  "Um, yeah. Okay." She's quiet, then says, "I'm really sorry about your brother."

  "And I'm sorry about Amy."

  I hear her breathing stutter like she's trying not to cry, or trying to hide the fact that she is.

  "We don't have to talk anymore," I tell her. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here."

  She doesn't respond, and an hour later I hear her breaths deepen and know she's asleep. She actually fell asleep. I didn't think she would. Is she sleeping because of me? Because she's not alone?

  I feel like I could sleep too, which I didn't think was possible tonight. It's because of Skye. Instead of being haunted by thoughts of Seth, my mind has been on Skye and trying to help her get through tonight.

  My eyes feel heavy and eventually fall shut. I nod off, but then suddenly wake when I hear her.

  "No! No, please! Amy, come back!"

  I immediately sit up, the phone in my hand. "It's okay," I say softly. "She's okay."

  Skye's rapid breaths begin to slow and eventually return to the deep breaths that tell me she's asleep. I check the clock. It's just after three. She's been asleep for almost four hours, which is more than she's slept any night the past year.

  I fall back asleep and wake up to Skye's voice again. "Travis?"

  "Yeah." I sit up, wiping my eyes. "I'm here."

  "I'm gonna go."

  "You sure?"

  She hesitates. "I think so."

  "You don't have to. This seemed to be working. You actually slept a few hours." I check the clock. It's six-thirty. "Did you just get up?"

  "Yeah."

  "Skye, that's great! You slept like seven hours. How do you feel?"

  "Awful," she mutters.

  "It's normal to feel groggy after sleeping longer than you're used to. You'll feel better later today."

  "It's not about that." She pauses. "I shouldn't have done it."

  "Done what?"

  "Slept. I should've stayed up thinking about her. Remembering her. It was the one year anniversary and instead of remembering her, I was sleeping. How could I do that to her?"

  "Skye, you needed to sleep. Staying up all night just would've made you feel worse."

  "You don't get it!" she yells. "I should've been there for her! I told her I—" She stops and takes a breath. "I don't want to talk anymore. This was a mistake."

  "Skye, what are you saying? What do you mean you should've been there for her? That doesn't make sense."

  The phone is silent.

  "Skye?"

  I check my phone and see she's not there. She hung up on me. I call back but she doesn't answer.

  What the hell is going on? We shared something last night that was more intimate than anything I've ever shared with a girl. Or anyone. Skye and I shared our grief. Our memories. The pain we still carry around. The sounds and images that still haunt us.

  We shared the anniversary of the night we both lost the most important person in our lives. We're basically strangers and yet we shared this night that connected us in a way few people could ever understand. I feel closer to Skye than people I've known for years. And yet she tells me it was a mistake?

  Now that I'm up, I shower and get ready for Skye's aunt and uncle to arrive. Given her outburst, I'm guessing she won't show up. Maybe if I asked her uncle he'd tell me what's going on with her. It sounds like he knows her better than her aunt.

  Just before ten, I hear the buzzer on the garage door go off. I lift the doors and see a man and a woman, dressed like they're going to church. The man is in black pants, a button-up shirt, and a blazer and the woman is wearing a burgundy dress, partially covered with a long gray coat.

  "Ray and Nora?" I ask, tossing my work gloves aside as I walk up to them.

>   "Nora Cooper," she says, seeming annoyed I didn't use her last name. I can already tell she's very formal from the way she's dressed, along with her tightly pulled-up hair, perfectly done makeup, and the way she's holding her hand out to me.

  "Sorry about that," I say. "I didn't catch your last name when we talked last night." I shake her hand. "Nice to meet you Mrs. Cooper." I turn to her husband and shake his hand. "Mr. Cooper."

  He gives me a smile. "No worries about the name. I don't believe I said it yesterday. And you're Travis?"

  "Yes. I own the place."

  "You do the work yourself?"

  "Most of it, yes. I'm looking to hire someone but as of now, it's just me."

  I really need to hire another mechanic. I haven't because I haven't been able to find one. That, and I don't know if I'm keeping the place or selling it. If it were up to me, I'd sell it, but that's not what Seth would've wanted. And I have to consider my dad, who still talks about the garage as though he still works there. He has a much better memory of the past than anything recent and his memories of the shop are pretty much all he talks about. He loved the place, and because of that, I feel guilty even thinking about selling it.

  Ray glances behind me where Skye's car is sitting. "Do you have a diagnosis yet?"

  "It's definitely a leak in the brake line. I don't have the hose in stock but I can order it today, get it tomorrow or Tuesday."

  "Aunt Nora, your phone works now," Skye says as she comes into the garage.

  So Skye showed up after all. I thought for sure she wouldn't. She looks even more beautiful than last night. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, showing off more of her face. I love how her face is shaped like a heart. I don't think I've ever met anyone that has a face shaped like that. And those eyes. That beautiful shade of caramel brown. She's wearing dark jeans and a sweater today. A black sweater, of course.

  "Thank you, dear," Nora says as she takes her phone. "I have the hardest time with technology," she says to me. "It's always breaking down but Skye is somehow able to fix it. Must be her generation." She smiles and tucks the phone in her purse.

  I'm trying to pay attention to Nora but my eyes keep going to Skye. She's ignoring me, looking everywhere but in my direction. But then I catch her eye and smile. She quickly looks away.

  "So was that it?" Ray asks as we walk over to the car. "Everything else looked good?"

  "The tires should be replaced but you could probably wait another month or so." I glance at Skye. "Unless she plans to be driving in the rain again." I kick the tire. "These aren't safe in a storm like we had last night. You want something with more traction."

  "I agree," Ray says, leaning down to inspect the tire. "Let's go ahead and get them changed." Ray rises back up and turns to Skye. "You never said what you were doing last night. Why were you out in the storm?"

  "I wasn't planning to be," she says, glancing to the side. "It started raining when I was out. It didn't get bad until later."

  "Good thing I found her," I say. "She might've been stuck in it."

  "Where'd you find her?" Ray asks, his brows drawn together.

  "At the—"

  "Laundromat," Skye interrupts. She shoots me a look to go along with her story. "The washer in my apartment wasn't working so I had to go to the laundromat."

  "Why didn't you tell me it wasn't working?" Ray asks. "I would've taken a look at it."

  "It's working now. Heidi fixed it."

  "Heidi can fix a washing machine?" Nora asks.

  "Turns out it wasn't really broken," Skye says. "I just pushed the wrong button. Anyway, are we done here?"

  Skye's eyes go to mine. I meet her gaze as I try to figure out what's going on here. She lied to her aunt and uncle. She doesn't want them knowing she was on the bridge. I guess it probably would upset them to know she was back there.

  "I did find one other thing," I say, walking to the back of the car. "There's a crack here in the bumper." I point it out to Ray. "It's cosmetic so normally I'd say you could just leave it but given where it is, there's a chance the bumper will disconnect while she's driving, which could be dangerous."

  "Do you know when this happened?" Ray asks Skye.

  She shakes her head. "No. I don't remember hitting anything."

  Nora huffs. "Skye, I've told you a million times to be careful."

  "I was. Aunt Nora, I swear I don't remember hitting anything."

  "It could've been someone else," I say. "Someone might've bumped it when it was parked. Or a shopping cart could've done this."

  Nora walks up to Ray. "I told you we shouldn't have let her take the car. She doesn't need one."

  "She needs it to get to class," Ray says. "Get groceries. Go places."

  "She can take the bus," Nora says. "Plenty of college students take the bus."

  "No." Skye rushes up to them. "Please don't take the car. I promise I'll be super careful."

  "We're not taking the car," Ray assures her. He turns to me. "We'll go ahead and fix the bumper. Do you have an estimate for that?"

  "No, but I can get one if you want to follow me over here to the computer." I lead them over to the laptop I took from the office. It's on a small table that's covered with food wrappers and pop cans.

  "Sorry about the mess," I say, quickly gathering up the cans and wrappers and tossing them in the trash. "I spent the night here and forgot to clean up this morning."

  "You worked all night?" Ray asks.

  I shake my head. "No. Just spent the night here. It was kind of a tribute. My brother considered this place his home. He loved being here with the cars."

  "Did something happen to him?" Nora asks.

  "He passed away last year," I say, waking up the laptop. As it warms up, I turn back to Nora. "Motorcycle accident. Happened a few miles from here."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," Nora says.

  "Yes," Ray says. "We're very sorry for your loss." He pauses, glancing at Skye, who's standing a few feet away, messing with her phone. "We had our own loss last year." He clears his throat and looks back at me. "I assume you heard about the bridge accident?"

  "Yes. Skye told me what happened. I'm really sorry. That's a huge loss."

  "It was." Ray puts his arm around his wife. "But we're doing the best we can."

  Nora turns to Skye. "Skye, dear, would you mind going to the car to get my scarf? There's a chill in the air."

  Skye quietly sighs. "Okay. Be right back."

  Nora turns back to me. "Skye told you about the accident?"

  "Yes. We were stuck here last night waiting for the storm to pass and started talking."

  "I'm surprised she told you," Nora says. "She normally doesn't like to talk about it."

  "I don't think she planned to. But I told her about my brother and how it happened a year ago last night and that's when she—"

  "Last night?" Ray asks. "He died a year ago last night?"

  "Yeah. That's why I was down here in the garage, remembering him. This was his favorite place to be."

  Nora looks down. Ray wraps his arm tighter around her.

  "Our Amy died a year ago last night," he says.

  "Yes." I nod. "Skye told me. Again, I'm very sorry."

  Ray and Nora exchange a look just as Skye walks in.

  "Here's your scarf," she says to Nora, handing it to her. "There were two in there but I brought this one."

  "Thank you," Nora says, wrapping the beige scarf around her neck. It's a chilly fall morning but not cold enough to need a scarf. I think she just sent Skye out there to get rid of her for a moment so she could ask me what Skye said last night.

  "You should take the pink one," Nora says to Skye. "It'd look lovely against your skin and it's good for chilly days like this."

  "I already have a scarf," Skye says.

  "But it's so dark and drab," Nora says. "The pink would add a touch of color."

  "I was telling her she could use some color," I kid, smiling at Skye.

  She isn't amused, g
laring at me like she's telling me to keep quiet.

  "She's stuck in this only-wearing-black phase," Ray says with a sigh. "It's been going on for years."

  "It's not a phase," Skye insists. "Black's a good color and it looks good on me. Pink looks horrible on me."

  Nora sighs and shakes her head, clearly frustrated with her niece.

  "Did you get everything figured out?" Skye asks, seeming anxious to leave.

  "Not yet." Ray points to the laptop. "Did you get that bumper price?"

  "Let me look it up." I sit down at the laptop and find the part, then point to the screen. "That's for a new one. I could try to find a used one off a junk lot if you want."

  "No, let's go with the new one."

  I add the price to the original estimate, along with labor. "And you want the tires?"

  "Yes. Whichever ones you think are best."

  I find some tires and add them to the estimate, along with the bumper and labor costs, then print it out and hand it to Ray.

  "Look okay?" I ask.

  His brows rise. "Tires aren't cheap."

  "I could find cheaper ones but those have a really good rating. The safest tires out there."

  Ray nods. "Then that's what we'll go with."

  He clearly cares about Skye and her safety. He treats her more like a daughter than a niece. And Nora doesn't seem that bad. She's not exactly warm and fuzzy but she seems to get along with Skye.

  "Do we pay now or later?" Ray asks.

  "Later is fine. I usually require a deposit when I have to order parts but I trust you'll be back." I smile.

  "I'm happy to put a deposit down."

  "Don't worry about it.

  Nora takes the estimate. "This is a lot of money."

  "It's fine, dear," Ray says. "It all needs to be done. We want her to be in a safe car."

  "Of course, but..." she glances at Skye, "I don't think it's unreasonable to ask Skye to pitch in for the costs."

  Skye looks up from her phone. "You want me to pay?"

  "Nora, don't be silly. We'll pay for it." Ray tries to take the estimate but Nora holds onto it and walks over to Skye.

  "You're an adult now, Skye," she says. "And adults have to pay for their own car repairs."

  "I agree," Skye says, her eyes on her aunt's like they're having some kind of showdown. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they don't get along. Skye snatches the estimate from her and looks at it. "I don't have this much money."