Chapter 29
Carly
Carly accepted she might not see Adam. She knew that he’d been gone for eight loops, and this one might not be any different.
So she braced herself for disappointment as she pushed up from the folding chair and made her way down the aisle of the funeral
room.
Before she could leave, Shireen appeared in the door frame.
“What are your plans today?” Shireen asked. “Dean and I were thinking of going to this creek with a few innertubes. I know
it’s not searching for Adam, but I think we could all use a break.”
Carly was certain that time had stopped. She grasped onto the back of a chair for support and fell to her knees in the middle
of the aisle. She began to rock herself, and at some point, she felt Shireen’s hand on her shoulder. “Carly . . .”
“I thought he’d be here,” Carly croaked out. She’d braced herself and known this was a possibility, but the reality was still
impossible. “I thought . . .”
Finishing the sentence was too painful. Because that was exactly what she was—in pain without Adam there.
Shireen sat cross-legged next to Carly. “When I lost my dad, my mom said for years afterward I would say things like, ‘Dad’s
with me,’ or ‘Dad is here.’ His body had left, but his spirit was still there, watching over us. I don’t think Adam is gone, because I haven’t felt him go away. Have you?”
Carly shook her head. She’d been brought back into their memories but hadn’t sensed him there beside her.
Shireen continued, “And with your dad, do you ever kind of get a feeling like he’s watching over you?”
Come find me, Carly girl. Bruce’s words echoed in her head. She’d sensed him on a few occasions, and whenever she was in a space he’d occupied. “Yes,”
she eventually said.
“Just hold on to that.” Shireen’s expression had become concerned. “Are you going to be okay? Do you want to come with me?”
Carly pushed her glasses up so she could swipe a tear from her eye. “I’ll be okay.”
Shireen pushed to stand and said, “I really loved your dad’s movie theater, by the way. I sometimes took a long lunch break,
got popcorn and would watch a movie by myself. He created a magical space.”
Then Shireen walked down the aisle and out into the hallway. When the sound of the door opening and closing came, Carly stood
and approached the coffin.
“I hope you heard that compliment,” Carly said. She hadn’t spoken to her dad in a real, honest way in some time. And she was
relieved to have a reason to do so. “I haven’t given up on finding you, either. I haven’t forgotten what you told me.”
Come find me, Carly girl.
Bruce’s voice rang as clear in her head as it had the first time she heard it. She actually looked down, half expecting that he’d spoken. But there was nothing, just the unending hum of the air conditioner. “I’ll go to the theater today,” she said. “I’ll come find you.”
The theater was another place where she and Adam had spent time, but Carly had been reluctant to return to. It had proven
to be an emotional place, and she was someone who had so many of those.
As she walked down the Main Street sidewalk, Spider-Man skateboarded past and offered her a wave. Goldie rode through the
street with a red-and-white-striped bikini, letting everyone know there were twelve hours remaining. And then Carly spotted
The Last Showing marquee in big black letters.
Carly stopped in front of the theater doors, hands on her hips, and took a big inhale. She could do this. She reached into
the pocket of her dress, pulled out the key ring and unlocked the door. She was met with the scent of popcorn and carpet cleaner.
The dangling stars overhead. The framed film posters. Her dad present in every fiber of the place.
“Hey, Dad,” she said to the room. “Never got to tell you that I really like what you built, but I do. It’s incredible.” She
walked past the concessions stand and toward the door marked Employees Only. The supply closet was where she and Adam had
been, where film canisters sat next to unopened paper products and rolls of red tickets.
Carly followed the line of films on the shelves until she landed on Jurassic Park. This was a movie she’d seen with her dad when he’d deemed her old enough—thirteen. The movie had been so epic, so utterly
transcendent, that she’d spent the following year convinced she’d become a paleontologist.
If she was going to find her dad, this might be the best way.
Carly loaded the film into the projector, hit the start button, then went to grab snacks.
She made herself a candy salad and even turned on the popcorn machine for a fresh batch.
She dove her hands into the buttery, sweet mixture and shoved a handful into her mouth as the opening credits of the movie began.
For the next two hours, she was engrossed. Completely transported out of Julian, and the loop and the reality that Adam might
be truly gone. She lost herself to the orchestral score, visual effects and Jeff Goldblum’s shirtless scene.
When the end came, she almost forgot where she was, but then saw the empty rows of seats and remembered. “I know you’re watching
over me, Dad,” she said. “But I don’t think I’ve found you quite yet.”
Bruce had lived in a one-bedroom bungalow close to town with a fenced-in front yard. She hadn’t been back in . . . a long
time. And as she opened the gate, she’d forgotten about the lavender lining the walkway and the sign just above the door in
the shape of a big movie ticket stub that read Admit One.
Carly let herself into the bungalow, and as she closed the door behind her, she anticipated the dread she’d had whenever she
came. There would be the scent of her dad, his well-worn flannel shirt hanging on a wall peg and knowing he’d never return.
She swallowed down her apprehension as she walked through the space. She stopped to read a note taped to his fridge: Call
Carly, it simply said. She didn’t know if it was a reminder or about something specific, but her finger traced the letters
and his handwriting. She saw her dad all around, but knew he was gone. And maybe for the first time, she accepted that.
Her dad’s desk had a stack of loose paper, a notebook and a Best Dad in the Galaxy Star Wars-themed coffee mug she’d gotten him one Father’s Day. Carly sat in the leather chair, feeling the spots where Bruce had made his lasting imprints, and took a sheet of paper and a pen.
She hadn’t written anything in so long, but it felt fitting that what she wanted to write was a tribute to Bruce. Because
this time with herself, and her dad, gave Carly room to think. Her mind was clear.
She wrote into the night, late enough that she could hear the nearby chaos on Main Street starting to unfold. She filled two
pages with good deeds she’d do for the people in town. She’d host free movie days at The Last Showing every few loops, with
special matinee hours for the kids. She’d go to Rick Gaines’s airstream and finish Beaches with him. She of course put Adam’s name in big block letters on a sheet of paper and left it on its own. She still didn’t
know how to help Adam or bring him back, but she wasn’t giving up.
She started to form a plan of what she could do. Maybe it wouldn’t bring Adam back, but it would bring Bruce forward.