Chapter 43 Maverick
maverick
I got my shirt pressed and my car cleaned.
I might be broken on the inside, but if I’ve learned anything from my friend, Willie, it’s that he shows up with his best foot forward and he deserves this.
I grab the bag of books I picked up for him from the back seat as a sorry-for-my-shitty-attitude gift and head inside.
Monica is sitting in her usual place, with her usual black button-up, but her face looks different.
“Hey, Monica.” I reach the front desk, and when she looks at me, her red-rimmed eyes fill with tears.
I set the bag down, placing a hand on her shoulder across the desk. “Hey.”
“I’m sorry.” She sniffs, reaching for a tissue. “I’m sorry, Maverick. I know you had plans to take William out today.”
“Fuck the steak. What happened?”
I wait for her to tell me he’s fallen, or got whatever cold Rosie had over the week that I was gone. I have to fight my instincts as she takes her time, gathering her voice, and whipping her tears.
“William…” She sniffs. “He passed away yesterday.”
I stop breathing and the world moves in and out around me. I think Monica stands from her chair. Maybe she hugs me, I don’t know. There’s a floral scent, her perfume, maybe, and a soft practiced, ‘I’m so sorry,’ lands somewhere near my ear but none of it sticks.
The ringing in my head swells, drowning everything out and Monica’s face is nothing more than a blur at the edges of my vision.
“What?” My lips move but I don’t recognize my voice. It’s cracked and muffled, like it’s coming from underwater.
“I said, I can take you to his apartment.” She blots her face with a tissue.
My throat feels like it’s closed up, but I force myself to swallow, and I’m suddenly aware of how tight my fists are clenched.
“Maverick?”
“I—” I shake my head, trying to make the room stop spinning.
“I think he left something for you, and it might be easier to say your goodbyes surrounded by his things rather than in here.”
I don’t remember the walk over or if we spoke again at all. I vaguely register something about, ‘It was peaceful,’ and ‘Sudden, but no pain.’ Before I know how I got here, I’m standing in the middle of William’s living room.
“I’ll give you some time, and I’ll be back in a little bit.”
I stand frozen at the spot for what feels like an hour before I finally put one foot in front of the other.
William’s apartment is just how I imagined it would be.
Clean, but lived in. A wooden bookshelf lines a wall filled with his paperbacks.
Every table, shelf, and counter is decorated with photos of him and his wife and trinkets from their travels.
I open a closet door, and my fingers trail over the leather of some of the most impressive heavyweight championship belts, and I’m not surprised because that’s the kind of man he was.
Everything that was important to him, out in the open, and parts of his life, but not his entire life, are able to fit in a closet.
A beige sofa sits in the middle of the room, and like it beckoned me, I fall onto it. A small box and a single envelope marked “M” sit on the coffee table in front of me. I cover my mouth with my hand, looking around the room again, before holding my breath and reaching for the letter.
Kid,
I wanted to thank you for your friendship these last few months, and for reminding me what this life is all about. Now, I want you to take this as a reminder: The world’s full of people who never see past the gloves. Don’t let them tell you who you are.
-W
I tip the lid of the box with shaky fingers, and something in my chest cracks, loud and heavy. Inside, sits William’s gold chain necklace with the mini boxing glove pendant. I let out a harsh breath, dropping my head to my hand, and the envelope I was holding floats down to the ground.
My breaths start to border on panic as my legs bounce up and down beneath me.
I pull in a measured breath through my nose, forcing myself to exhale slowly, and bend down, snatching the paper from the floor.
The envelope sits heavy in my hand and takes me another breath to realize there’s something else inside it.
I pull out the Polaroid and I feel everything hit me at full force.
My eyes burn, and my lungs struggle to breathe.
The photo Chloe took of William and I shakes between my fingers.
His smile is bigger than I’ve ever seen it, but it matches mine.
My eyes are slightly closed because the grin takes up so much of my face, and my arm is draped over William’s as he clutches his book in his hand.
Nausea rolls up to my throat and I press my palms into my eyes, forcing back the tears because I know if I start, I won’t be able to stop.
“Hey, handsome,” Rosie says softly.
I don’t know if she has her walker today, I can’t bear to look up at her. The couch dips beside me, and once she wraps an arm around me, the damn breaks.
My chest heaves as I struggle for breath, and hot tears cover my face.
“Oh, honey, you meant so much to that man,” she whispers while patting my back.
“But I wasn't here…” My voice breaks. “I wasn’t here at the end when he needed…when he needed someone the most, I wasn’t—” I shake my head in disbelief, still not grasping that this is actually happening. “I never got to tell him how much he meant to me.”
Rosie wraps both her arms around me, pulling me in close.
My body collapses into hers as my shoulders jerk, and my tears begin to soak through her shirt.
This tiny woman holds all two hundred something pounds of me, rubbing slow circles across my back, as I let everything I’ve lost pour out of me in broken sobs.
“He knew, honey,” she whispers. “He knew.”
I pull out of her arms, wiping my face with the collar of my shirt.
“Was he alone?” I manage to get out.
Her lips form a tight line, but she shakes her head. “The doctors knew he had a day or two. We made sure to keep him company.”
“Why didn’t…fuck!” I scream. “Why didn’t anyone call me? Or…” Or what? I’m just some name on a volunteer sheet.
“I think he probably wanted you to only have the good memories of him.”
I want to be mad. I want to be furious that he was the one who got to make that call. But to do that would mean to be mad at who William was to his core. A selfless man who cared more about the people around him, those closest to him, than himself.
I couldn’t fake a smile for one fucking night, and I left William here alone, being the complete opposite kind of man I aspire to be—a man like him. I drop my head to the couch behind me, covering my face with my hands.
“God, I fucked everything up.”
Rosie shifts beside me, putting a soft hand on my knee. “If you’re referring to William, you couldn’t be more wrong. He wouldn’t do this—” She points to the necklace in the box and the letter. “If you weren’t important to him, and he wanted you to know.”
“Now, if you’re referring to our girl—”
I look at her, now wondering if she’s seen Chloe and how much she knows.
“There’s no time like the present to make things right.”
For a split second, I let myself have hope.
But it comes and goes faster than a shooting star.
Chloe deserves the world and every galaxy beyond it, and I refuse to be the reason she misses out on things.
If she found out why she didn’t get that job, I know that girl who’s made up of ten percent lavender and ninety percent heart, would choose me.
But I won’t let her. I won’t be the reason that she loses anything else.
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “She’s losing out on opportunities because of me. And I love her enough to know that she’s better off without me.”
I lean forward, dropping my elbows to my knees.
“I think you’re confusing self-sacrifice with love.”
I sniff, looking over my shoulder at Rosie. She’s holding the photo of William and me, running her crooked finger over our faces.
“Love is about sticking around, hun. Not disappearing.”