Chapter 34
34
Hayden
present
As soon as I walk through the front door of my childhood home, I’m rushed with a greeting from every mourning relative that gathered around the living room. My aunts and uncles, cousins, and even family friends that my parents gained over the decades they’ve spent in Ohio, growing within this life that revolved around routine and consistency. A standard that I walked away from and now regret with everything in me. Because if I had stayed at home, listened to everything my dad asked me to do with my life, I would’ve been there to say goodbye. I wouldn’t be carrying around this anvil of guilt making my heart heavy.
“Hayden!” my mom calls from the living room. She runs toward me, her arms wide open and eyes rimmed red. She pulls me close to her, running her hand up and down my back as she sniffles back her tears. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
The next hour becomes a blur. I’m ushered into the living room, extending my greeting to everyone while my aunt passes around plates of some slop she claims is casserole. My own remains on my plate, cold and uneaten, as I can’t stomach a single thing.
Late into the evening, when it’s just me and my mom, we sit across from each other at the kitchen island, the dim light hovering over us like a spotlight. I stay quiet while my mom fidgets with her wedding ring. I wonder to myself how long she’ll wear it until I push that thought out of my head.
“We were going to visit you,” she says, her quiet voice louder than it actually is over the silence. I look up at her, but her gaze is settled on her ring, the diamonds and platinum twirling around her finger. “He wanted to go and see your restaurant. Eat your food.”
I sigh as I run a hand over my face, scraping against the day-old scruff settled around my jawline. When I don’t say anything, she keeps going.
“He really was proud of you. When Pat called and gave him crap for being so stubborn, he changed. It sounds strange, but it was like he knew he needed to let you know how proud he was. Like he knew he was saying goodbye.” The last of her words are drowned in a sob as she wipes her eyes with a napkin that’s become a permanent fixture to her hand as the day has worn on.
I stand, round the counter, and wrap my arms around her to console her.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whisper into her hair.
She turns to look at me, her soft smile peeking through the quivering of her chin. “Oh, honey. You don’t have to be sorry.”
I shake my head. “No, I should have just listened to him. Done what he wanted. Then at least I would’ve had the last two years with him. ”
She stands from her stool, swiveling to face me as she stands over a foot shorter than me. She holds my arms in her hands, squeezing them to get my attention. The tears start welling up as my throat constricts with the regret lodged there. So many regrets.
“Hayden, listen to me,” she urges. When the first of my tears fall, I finally look at her. “Your father wanted what was best for you. Your future, college, everything. He just wanted what he thought was best. But he was wrong.”
I become a blubbering mess as her solemn eyes look at me, convincing me that my choices aren’t a mistake. Her hand reaches to move my hair out of my face and wipe my tears. Although it’s pointless, as the tears don’t seem to stop.
“He was stubborn, and you had to deal with the result of that stubbornness. But don’t you for a second believe that he wasn’t proud of you.”
I sob, lowering my head onto her shoulder as she pats my back. “I just miss him. So much.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
I’m sitting on a twin-size bed, decorated with yellow floral sheets and a stuffed walrus named Harold, in Natalia’s childhood bedroom. My back is leaned up against the wall where Harry Styles’s face is smiling directly at me. I would move further away, but then I’d be eye-to-eye with Robert Pattinson.
“You know that Edward dude was wearing a wig when he filmed Twilight ?”
Natalia’s head pops up from behind her laptop, and her brow furrows, with a scowl of disapproval on her face. “No, he wasn’t. You made that up. ”
I shrug.
She rolls her eyes before returning her intense gaze back to her lit-up screen.
I’ve been back home for twenty-four hours now, and I had to get out of my house. The family members that were there when I arrived returned in a swarm the following morning, fawning over me and my mom as we assured them we didn’t need more food. I needed to get some air. So I called Natalia, hoping to spend some time with her and get my mind off funeral planning. With all the arrangements jotted down by the funeral planner my mom hired, the service will take place this Friday. It’s fast. Too fast. In a few days, we’ll be saying our goodbyes and lowering my dad’s casket into the family plot where my grandparents are buried.
I want to bring Natalia back to my house, introduce her to my mom so she understands that Natalia is important to me but with the chaos that’s settled in our living room, it’ll have to wait.
My foot that’s extended over the edge of the bed taps the bottom of Natalia’s where her leg hangs over the opposite knee. She looks up at me again but this time, there’s no hint of the annoyance she carried when I dissed Edward Cullen.
“You want to talk?”
I simultaneously shrug and scratch my head. “I think I’m getting a little bit of cabin fever.”
She closes her laptop and gently places it on her desk, where it sits under a corkboard of pictures with her and her sisters and string lights that are turned off.
“Come on, Marshall,” she says, her hand patting my thigh as she stands up from her cushy lounge chair. She reaches for the keys to her dad’s minivan and turns back to face me. “I know just what you need.”
After a fifteen-minute drive, we turn down multiple streets that start to look familiar. Residential areas that have warning signs for children crossing and the repetitiveness of stop signs and speed bumps. After a final turn, we come face to face with Coolidge View High. The parking lot is full of cars parked half haphazardly in assigned spots and those that are marked as student or faculty. Natalia pulls into an empty spot with the sign Visitor posted at the head.
“Aren’t we a little late for biology class?” I joke as she turns the ignition off.
She smiles as she opens the door, reaching for her keys before exiting. I follow suit before I look at the large span of space ahead of us. The football field, re-turfed since we left, holds a newly designed scoreboard with a modern looking falcon painted next to the digital zeros on display. It sits empty, most likely in between classes, so we sort of dawdle toward the end of the wired fence where there’s an opening leading to the bleachers.
“Isn’t this trespassing?” I ask.
“I think they make some sort of exception for alumni,” she answers. “I mean, come on. We should get some sort of consolation for surviving four years here.”
I smirk as I climb the steps up the bleachers, walking all the way to the top, where we get an even wider view of the field. Natalia follows, her hands outstretched as she teeters side to side to maintain her balance. I reach out a hand for her as she takes the final step to the top, then drop it when she lands with a slight thud next to me.
“Wow,” she gasps. We both sit, looking out toward the field. The wind blows between us, causing us to fold our arms inward.
“Does it feel smaller to you?”
She turns to look at me, giggling. “Maybe you just got bigger.” She pokes at my side which makes me poke her back before we dissolve into giggles.
When our laughter dies, she leans her head against my shoulder, wrapping her hand along my forearm. She inhales deeply, breathing in the fresh air that we both forgot about when we moved to the city .
“Did you ever think you’d be back here?” she asks softly as her eyes gently close.
I shake my head. “Never in a million years.”
She opens her eyes and turns to look at me. “I’m sorry you aren’t here under better circumstances, Hayden.”
I give a tight-lipped smile instead of shaking my head. I can agree with her. Maybe even tell her that I wish my circumstances were different and that I weren’t here with her. But I can’t imagine a better place than being right here, right now, with her.
“I’m glad I’m here with you,” I whisper, the honesty seeping through me.
She smiles, her face lighting up as she looks at me. My hand lurches just then before fisting at my side. I stop it from moving even an inch. I stop it from cradling her face, brushing away her hair, and tucking it behind her ear.
“Nat,” I start to whisper. I don’t know what I want to tell her, but I need to say something. Anything to get this well of confusion to shift into something sure. But then we’re interrupted by the muffled tone of a new alert on my phone in my pocket. An obnoxious twang that rings so quietly but sounds loud in the small space between us. When we both hear it, she pulls away, and her hand drops to her side before she faces the open field again.
I grimace, taking a deep breath and cursing whoever it is that interrupted us. I hate that she pulled away so quickly. Both she and I know what the telltale sounds that came from my phone mean, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t care who’s on the other side of that message. What woman is waiting for me to respond to the Cupid’s Bet message that caused us to separate. I just want to be right here with Natalia.
I clear my throat. “When are you flying back? ”
“I’m staying the rest of the week,” she answers. “I got a flight out Friday night.”
I nod.
“I thought I would stay for the service,” she adds hesitantly. “If you want me there.”
I look at her, her eyes cautiously searching mine as she gauges my reaction.
“Of course I want you there,” I finally say.