ELEVEN
CHAPTER
“You’ll come back tomorrow?” Beverly asked, hugging me goodnight. “How long are you in town?”
“Just a few days,” I said.
Her face fell. “Oh. I thought you might be here longer. Or that you’d be moving back…?”
“Mom,” Theo said. “She’s tired…”
“I have to go back,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m booked for gigs and I’m trying to keep my obligations. “I’ll visit tomorrow. For dinner? Can I bring something?”
Beverly hugged me again. “Just yourself, dear.”
Dena pulled me in next. Her hug was like her gaze; warm and soft, and completely welcoming.
Though she was only a few years older than me, she exuded wisdom I didn’t think I’d ever know.
Looking at her, I realized what it meant to be an old soul.
“You did a brave thing,” she said softly. “It might not feel like it, but it is.”
“I don’t feel brave,” I said. “One minute I feel proud for getting out of the hole. The next minute I hate myself for digging in so deep in the first place.”
“We all have our ways of coping,” Dena said, holding me at arms’ length.
“You found something that felt like relief, something to numb you, and you clung to it, even as it dragged you down. But you climbed out, knowing how hard it would be on the other side. You should feel more proud than ashamed.”
I hugged her tightly. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she said. “And I miss Jonah. It’s been harder than I ever imagined. But seeing you again reminds me how happy he was.” She smiled and held my shoulders. “I know he carries that joy with him wherever he is. Take comfort in that if you can, love.”
“I will.”
But it was a lie. I didn’t feel any comfort.
I didn’t even know what comfort meant anymore.
Especially tonight, here at the Fletchers’ house, where Jonah looked at me from photographs and dangled overhead in the glass lamps he’d made.
Where he leaned over my shoulder and touched the small of my back.
How I kept turning to look at him and ask what he thought, but it was Theo who looked back at me.
I missed Jonah so badly, I could feel the cracks in my heart left by his absence.
It felt impossible that they’d ever be healed.
Theo drove me to the hotel. He parked in front, but I didn’t move to get out.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
He frowned. “How bad is what?”
“The situation with your classes.”
“Fuck, Kacey, don’t…”
“Tell me.”
He sighed. “I might have to retake one or two. Not a big deal.”
I closed my eyes and slumped in my seat. “I owe you so much.”
“You don’t owe me a damn thing,” Theo said. “Stop saying you do.” His voice softened. “You look beat. Come on. I’ll walk you up.”
“Wait…” I glanced at the hotel. “I’m not really ready to be alone right now. It’s so fucking hard. If I hole up in my room alone, I’ll just cry all night.”
Theo was quiet a minute. Then he said in a low voice, “I know a place we can go.”
They call New York the city that never sleeps, but Vegas deserved the title more.
The Strip was bustling on a Sunday night.
Cars jammed the street in rows of red and white, and pedestrians streamed along the sidewalks.
We passed the Bellagio Hotel and Casino, where Jonah and I had gone once.
Our first date, I realized, when the lit-up fountains danced to a romantic ballad.
Tonight, it was Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” accompanying them, but it didn’t matter: I could still see us.
Everything about that night was right there, perfectly preserved at the forefront of my mind.
I could taste the cupcake he’d bought for me from an ATM.
I swallowed hard and looked away. Theo guided the truck down a side street next to the Wynn Hotel, and I knew where he was taking me.
“It’s late,” I said softly. “The Galleria will be closed.”
“I got it covered,” he said.
He parked the truck in a service lot, where employees parked, and came around to open my door.
“Do you moonlight here?” I asked, as he took my hand and walked me to a back entrance.
“They know me,” he said.
That was true, but the security guard didn’t know me. “Not sure about this, Theo,” he said, stroking his mustache.
“She’s Jonah’s girlfriend,” Theo replied.
The guard’s eyes swept me up and down, taking in my bloodshot eyes and stooped shoulders. A smile unfolded beneath the mustache as he punched a code and let us in.
“Have a good night, Theo. You too, Miss.”
“Thanks, Wilson,” Theo said, and led me through the back corridors of the Wynn.
“They just let you in here?” I asked. I was already lost in the rights and lefts, but Theo seemed to know exactly where he was going. He was still holding my hand.
“I come here a lot,” he said.
The Galleria was closed, but after a few words with the other security guard on duty, the door was unlocked for us, and we went in. My hand slipped into Theo’s as we walked the long leg of the L-shaped gallery, lined with stone sculptures. When we came to the bend, I stopped.
Theo’s hand squeezed mine. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
We rounded the corner.
I expected to cry and wail, to be flooded with pain and grief and collapse in a heap on the floor.
I didn’t expect my chest to tighten with exhilaration.
I wasn’t prepared for the smile that broke through my face like a crack in hard stone.
Tears flooded my eyes but not for pain. For the breathtaking beauty of Jonah’s masterpiece.
The water looked like it was in motion. The sea life at the bottom pulsed with life. I could feel the heat of the blazing sun slice through the delicate glass waterfall. A blur of yellows and blues, oranges and reds.
I sank down on a bench opposite the glass. I breathed through the tears and let it fill my eyes, let my eyes inhale the beauty of it.
“You were right,” I whispered. “This is exactly the right place to be. Is that why you come here? Does it bring you peace?”
“Some.” Theo sat next to me. An exhausted collapse of his limbs, as if he’d carried around a tremendous weight all day long, and only here could he set it down. As he stared up at the glass, he looked haggard and exhausted.
“I drank myself into a stupor to numb the grief,” I said. “And I still want to. The fact we’re fifty yards away from a casino filled with free booze is agonizing.”
“You want to leave?”
“No, I have to deal with it. Being here helps. But what about you, Teddy? How have you been coping?”
He shrugged. “I just keep moving.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” He was closed up tight, arms crossed, expression locked in determination.
You left when he asked you to stay. You weren’t the only one suffering, about to shatter into pieces.
I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“What for?”
“You know what for. You hurt as much as I do.”
He shifted like he was going to say something dismissive. Instead, he sighed and said in a low voice. “Like I said, you’re here now.”
I nodded against him, my tired eyes wanting to close but if they did, the ache in my heart would pull me under. I drank in the beautiful glass instead.
We sat with Jonah for a long time.