32. Izzy
32
IZZY
I wake to an empty bed. Even Wonton is gone.
Blinking, I give my eyes time to adjust to the sun-drenched room, letting last night’s events come back to me.
I ease out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom, then change into a pair of jeans and a tee.
Downstairs, I find Wonton asleep on his cushion. Based on the way he lounges rather than popping up and dancing around me, I assume he’s been fed and let out, but Derrick is nowhere to be seen.
I start the Keurig, desperate for some caffeine, then peek outside, stifling a yawn. I scan the porch, then the yard, but Derrick is nowhere to be found. The shed isn’t open, and it’s quiet, so he’s not mowing.
Once my coffee is brewed, I add a splash of oat milk and take a careful sip. I prefer matcha from the local shop, but this will do.
Peeking out the front window, I find his truck is gone.
It’s possible he went to get breakfast and is coming back, but after yesterday, a strange foreboding plagues me. I don’t think it’s as simple as that. So I jog upstairs and swipe my phone off the nightstand, then fire off a text.
Me: Hey, just wanted to check in since you’re not home. Is everything okay?
I stare at the screen, waiting for a response, but when it goes dark before a text comes through, I tuck my phone in my pocket and head back downstairs to make some breakfast.
I’m worried about him. I’m worried for him. He lost his wife in a tragic way, and now a close friend. That has to be difficult to cope with. I haven’t experienced a loss like that.
I busy myself around the house. Straightening things and cleaning, all the while worrying about him, and after a few hours, when I still haven’t heard from him, that worry turns to fear.
Instead of going through Via, I call Reid myself.
“What’s up?” he answers.
I pace the hall, my heart pounding out of my chest. “Have you talked to your dad today?”
“ No .” He draws the word out into more than one syllable. “Why?”
I swallow the boulder in my throat. It was a lump yesterday, and it’s just continued to grow. “He was gone when I woke up, and he hasn’t responded to my texts. It’s not like him.”
“Maybe he went to help Maura,” he suggests .
“Oh, that makes sense.” My face flushes. I feel silly for not having thought of that myself. “Thank you.”
After a quick goodbye, I end the call and collect my things so I can drive over to check on him.
The whole way there, I tell myself that’s exactly it. He is with Maura. But my hope dissipates as I slow in front of the house. I don’t even pull into the driveway, because Derrick’s truck definitely isn’t there.
“Where could he be?” I tap my fingers against the steering wheel.
He could have gone to his piece of land. Maybe for some quiet. But even if that’s where he is, there’s no way I could find my way back there alone.
Frustrated, I head into town in search of his truck.
I’m surprised—though I shouldn’t be—when I find it parked outside his storefront. Once I’ve parked on the opposite side of the street, jog up to the door. I reach confidently for the handle, only to find that it’s locked.
Clasping my hands on the sides of my face, I peep through the glass and find him at his desk, completely oblivious to me. I knock, making him jolt in his seat. When he turns to me, he looks exhausted, like he didn’t sleep at all. Dammit. Now I feel guilty for falling asleep so easily.
He shuffles to the door, his shoulders slumped, and turns the lock. Then he stands aside to let me in.
“Did you need something?” he asks once the door closes behind me. His tone isn’t mean, but it’s off. Maybe a little disgruntled?
Holding my breath, I take him in. The dark circles under his eyes, the disheveled hair, the wrinkled shirt. “I was worried about you. You were gone when I got up and didn’t reply to my texts. ”
“I’m busy, Izzy,” he rasps, his focus fixed on a point behind me. “I can’t respond to you every second of every day. I have work to do.”
The words are a physical blow so severe I rear back.
“Excuse me?” I blurt, my heart lurching. “I didn’t know you found me so annoying.”
With a wince, he pinches his brow. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Are you sure about that?” I don’t want to have a fight right now, not when I know he’s grieving, but his words hurt.
He swallows audibly. “I’m not good company right now. I left because I needed space.”
“Space is fine,” I say, taking a step closer. “But at least let me know you’re okay if you disappear like that again.”
He nods, looking down at the ground.
“Do you need me to help while I’m here or?—”
“I want you to go.”
Ouch .
The verbal punches keep coming. But he’s not himself right now. That knowledge is what keeps me from dissolving into a puddle of tears.
“Okay. I’ll do that. I… You know I love you, right?”
He won’t meet my eyes, but he gives me a single broken nod.
Hands shaking, I turn to the door. I don’t want to leave, but I have to respect his wishes. So without looking back, I pull the door open and stalk to my car.
I text Via the moment I’m in the driver’s seat, begging to crash on her couch tonight. I have no interest in punishing Derrick. As much as the brush-off hurts, I want to give him the space he’s asked for. And I can’t do that if I’m in his house.
Via responds, telling me it’s no problem, so I head back to Derrick’s place to pack a bag and pick up Wonton. My stomach churns at the thought of Derrick being alone, but bearing the brunt of his devastation is something I can’t handle. If he needs me, I’ll happily come running.
I pile my things in the car, a little horrified by how much stuff I packed for what I desperately hope will only be one night. But I packed a few extra sets of clothes just in case, along with pajamas, skincare products, and makeup. Not to mention all of Wonton’s things.
It’s silly, but I linger at the house longer than I should. Foolishly hoping he’ll show up and tell me he doesn’t want me to go. Not even for a night. But he doesn’t come, so finally, I head over to Via’s, sniffling back tears the whole way.
She’s working today, but she’s left the apartment unlocked, so I haul my things inside.
“Izzy,” I tell myself as I slog up the stairs with a third load of belongings, “you have got to stop overpacking. This is ridiculous.”
Inside, I set Wonton’s cushion down and almost feel lighter when the little ball of fluff immediately dives for it.
Leaving him, I go down to the store, thinking the best way to pass the time and stop my brain from spiraling is to hang with my sister and paint a few pieces of pottery. She has plenty of other artistic things for customers to do in her shop, but the pottery is the only thing that interests me currently.
The store is full of end-of-summer tourists. I usually stop by early in the day, when it’s still quiet, so except for at her grand opening, I’ve never seen it this packed. Pride fills me as I take in the scene. My sister followed her dream and has turned her studio into a profitable business. She spent way too many years being unhappy. She deserves the world, and instead of waiting for someone to give it to her, she went out and got it herself.
Via spots me and waves from the back, where she’s helping a small group of people at a table.
There’s a counter along the front, lined with stools. I set my stuff in front of one, then peruse the ceramic pieces.
I’m debating between painting a planter and a bowl when Via comes over and squeezes my shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
Turning her way, I force a weak smile. “Okay, but sad for Maura and her kids and worried about Derrick.”
“I can’t believe you were there when it happened. Reid said he’ll check in with his dad tonight. Make sure he’s okay.”
The ache in my chest flares. I want to be the one to check on him. “Good.”
“Do whatever you want.” She gestures around the space. “We’ll order pizza or something after I close up. Is that okay?”
Grateful for the gentleness my big sister possesses, I nod.
In the end, I choose the planter. It’s the larger of the two pieces and will take longer for me to work on, thus distracting me longer.
Though I’m not sure the activity is all that helpful, since I keep checking my phone, desperately hoping for some kind of communication from Derrick. I know it’s selfish. I know he’s going through a lot right now, but it hurts to know that he’s not okay and I can’t be there to help. It’s a physical ache, being shut out like this, but we all handle grief in different ways, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
As the sun sets, the store empties out. Via busies herself with cleaning up while I continue to work on the planter. I’m being way too detail-oriented, but after a while, I got into a groove, and it’s allowed me to quiet my thoughts. So I’ll keep at it until she’s ready to call it a night.
Forty-five minutes later, she says, “I wanted to let you finish, but I’m starving.”
I use white paint to highlight one of the tiny flowers, then set the brush down. “That’s okay. I’m being overly critical over here.”
“Do you want to talk about things?” she asks, dropping onto the stool beside me.
Tears prick at the backs of my eyes as I rinse my brush out in the cup of water. “No. I can’t make sense of my thoughts, let alone put them into words.”
“Okay,” she says, her tone soft. “You know if you change your mind, I’m always here to listen. Day or night.”
“Even in the middle of the night?” I ask with half a laugh.
“Even then.” She stands and snags the cup of brushes, helping me clean up, then sets the planter aside for touch-ups in the morning.
“I already ordered the pizza.” She loops her arm through mine. “I thought we could walk down the street and get it.”
With a heavy sigh, I lean my head on my sister’s shoulder. “Only if we get wine, too.”
Laughing, she pats my arm. “Wine is always a must.”
“I can’t eat another bite,” I groan, throwing down the small piece of crust I’ve just bitten into.
“I’m stuffed, too.” Via rubs her belly. “It was good, though.”
“It really was.” I lean my back against her couch, stretching my legs out in front of me on the air mattress. I didn’t know she had this, but apparently, when I showed up in town, she ordered it, worried that my staying with Derrick may not work out.
Matthew McConaughey is on screen, teaching Kate Hudson’s character how to ride a motorcycle. I’ve watched How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days more times than I’d care to admit, but it never gets old. It’s a peak 2000s rom-com.
“How much is it killing Reid not to be here?”
Via rolls her eyes. “We’re capable of being apart.”
“I know.” I bite back a smile. “But how many times has he texted you?”
She eyes her phone where it sits on the air mattress beside her. “Um…”
“How many times?” I reach for her phone just as she does. As we grapple for it, it slips out of her hand and slides across the floor.
We scramble over one another, and when I have the upper hand, I hold her at bay and snatch it up.
“Victory!” I hold the phone aloft, then pop up and run across the room, typing in her password as I go.
When it unlocks, her text thread with Reid is already pulled up. “What the—ah!” I throw her phone onto the couch and slap my hands over my eyes. “I just saw your boyfriend’s penis!”
Okay, so it was only the top curve of it. He had his sweatpants tugged down, showing off his stomach and his…
“I’m going to throw up.” I lower my hands, gagging.
“That’s what you get for being nosy.” Via picks the device up off the cushion and cradles it protectively against her chest.
Whimpering, I scrub at my eyes like that can rid me of the vision. “I wasn’t expecting a dick pic! ”
“That’s not even a dick pic,” she says, studying the screen. “It’s a… I don’t know, but it’s not that.”
“Well, I certainly know the girth of it now. Is your vagina okay?”
She drops her head back, groaning at the ceiling. “Kill me now.”
With an accusatory finger, I point at her phone. “I’m never going near that thing again. Lesson learned.”
“He’s sent me a bunch of texts. I haven’t replied,” she says softly, lowering the device to the table. “This is our time together.”
“I know,” I sigh, letting my shoulders relax. She’s steadfastly ignored her phone all evening. Then I had to go and ruin it. But in my defense, I wasn’t wrong. He’s been texting up a storm. “It was my fault.”
“Let’s finish the movie.” Grasping my wrist, she tugs me back over to the air mattress.
I go willingly. It takes all of two steps, really, in this tiny apartment.
When the movie is finished, we start another, but we drift off in the middle. When I wake the next morning, Via is passed out next to me and early morning light is flickering in the windows.
I check my phone, hoping to find a message or a missed call from Derrick. But if he went home last night, he certainly didn’t reach out.
My heart sinks. I’ve never felt so helpless.
I’m at a loss for where to go from here. I don’t want to force my presence on him if he needs space, but I also don’t want him to feel abandoned or think I can’t handle this. It’s complicated all the way around .
I open our message thread and survey the long string of texts I sent. All are marked read, yet there isn’t a single reply.
I’ll send one more, and then I’ll stop.
Me: I’m thinking about you. I’m here if you need me. I love you.
For a moment, I hover a finger over the Send button, questioning whether I should delete it.
But in the end, I send it and turn my phone off so I won’t be tempted to check my messages.
“Everything okay?” Via’s sleep-graveled voice asks.
“It will be.”
It has to be.