Chapter 42
Jessie
Iroll over and reach for Trey, only to find the bed empty.
I’ve done this exact thing the past few mornings since I woke up, and he was gone.
I breathe in, fighting back fresh tears—tears for Gran, tears for what I lost with Trey.
Since he walked up to me in the cemetery, it feels like I haven’t been able to stop crying.
Seeing him broke the dam inside of me; with him, I was safe to grieve the worst of the pain.
I open our text thread, rereading the text I woke up to the morning he left.
Trey
I’m always here if you need me. Never forget that.
He’s a good man, and I threw our relationship away before it even began. I didn’t deserve for him to fly back here, but he did it anyway. Now I’m the coward who hasn’t been able to text him back. I’ll always regret the damage my father has caused and continues to cause in my life.
I’m still not back at work and I’m not sure when I’ll go back.
I took my five-day bereavement leave and now I’m using PTO.
My stomach rolls at the thought of stepping back into that ER.
With my monthly bills significantly lower, I can afford the time off, and I plan to take it.
I don’t think I could make it through a shift, let alone provide high-quality care, and that’s not fair to my co-workers or patients.
I still haven’t decided what to do about Daryl, but my give-a-fuck meter is at an all-time low. Thankfully, I haven’t heard from him. I’ve decided to ignore the issue until I’m forced to do something about it. Mentally, I can’t handle anything else right now.
I’m rummaging around my mostly-empty fridge when there is a knock at the door. I’ve ignored every text and call for the past two days. I needed time to grieve, and I didn’t want an audience for that. But I guess they’ve decided that showing up is their next course of action.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I grumble. Yanking open the door, I look into a pair of hazel eyes identical to mine—because standing at my front door is the woman who gave them to me.
I haven’t seen my mother, Sheila, in years. The last time I saw her was outside a gas station several years ago. I walked right past her, and she never registered who I was.
Taking her in now, it’s clear substance abuse has aged her past her years, but her eyes are clear. Her hair has gone gray, but she has it styled, and she’s dressed in nice clothes. She looks clean. Put together, even. “Hi, Jessie. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m your mom, I’ve—”
“I know who you are. Gran didn’t leave you anything in her will.” I start to shut the door on her, but her next words stop me.
“I left your father a year ago. I just got out of rehab.”
I stop the door, holding it halfway closed, giving her the opportunity to continue.
“I know you don’t owe me anything, and you can slam that door in my face, and I wouldn’t blame you. I just— I came here to apologize and give you my condolences. I know I wasn’t a good mom or a good daughter, but my mom really was the best. I’m sorry you lost her.”
I open the door enough that she can see my face. “You’re right, you weren’t. You were never a mother to me. She raised me and everything good about me came from her.”
“I know. I let drugs ruin everything good in my life, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize that. I’m clean now—for over six months.”
I nod. I don’t have anything else to say to the woman who left me to sleep in the garage and starve.
“I don’t deserve it, but not mending my relationship with my mom will be one of my biggest regrets of my life. I’d like the chance for us to do that someday, if you might want that, too. We could still have a relationship, make new memories together.”
I scoff. “Memories? I have one good memory from those early years, and it wasn’t even with you.
Daryl took me to the park and got me an ice cream cone.
He let me get sprinkles, and for a few minutes, I got to feel what it felt like to be a normal kid getting ice cream with her father.
As I got older, I realized he didn’t take me to the park.
He took me to a drug deal at the park. The ice cream was a distraction.
How fucked up is that? You were nonexistent my entire childhood.
Even when we were in the same room, you were too high to realize I was even there. ”
Tears build in her eyes, but she waits patiently for me to finish.
“I know. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Jessie.
I was so addicted. I have years of my life I don’t even remember, but I know Daryl was horrible to you.
That’s why I never came looking for you—you were better off with Mom.
” She brushes her hands down her pants, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles.
“Your father tried to get me to come back, but I won’t do it.
I know he takes money from you, and I want you to know I’m working with the police to help build a case against him. If you ever wanted to—”
“No,” I snap. “I don’t want anything to do with that. I can’t. I understand you’re sorry, and I’m glad you went to rehab. I am. But while you’ve figured your life out, mine train-wrecked. If Daryl ever found out I talked to the police, you know exactly what he would do.”
She nods with understanding.
“Gran loved you,” I tell her. “Even after everything, she loved you. She told me stories about you, from when you were little, and never once said a bad word about you. Losing that relationship should be the biggest regret of your life. So, I understand you want to reconnect or whatever the fuck, but I . . . I can’t right now. It’s too much.”
She wipes a tear away. “I understand. Can I leave you my number? Then, if you’re ever ready, you can call? I’m staying clean, Jessie, I promise. If you’re ever ready to give me a chance at a relationship with you, please reach out.”
I pull out my phone and enter the number she gives me. Before I close the door, she adds, “I’m going to keep working with the police. Daryl deserves to be in prison, where he can’t ever hurt you or anyone else again.”
I’m lying on my couch, staring at the ceiling, still trying to process my mother’s surprise visit.
Knock, knock.
I ignore it.
“I know you’re in there,” Cody’s deep voice calls from the other side of the door. “Open up, Jessie. It’s me.”
No more hiding, I guess.
I swing the door open.
His brows raise at my disheveled appearance. I’m in three-day-old sweats and my hair is a rat’s nest.
“What? You’re the one who showed up unannounced,” I snap.
He chuckles.
Rude.
“Glad to see that fire back.” He steps past me into the house.
I grumble about not having invited him in, but it doesn’t faze him. I shut the door as he pulls out a chair, taking a seat at the table. “Sit. Let’s have a talk.”
I plop into the chair across from him, resting my arms on the table. I’m being a brat, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m miserable. I lost Gran, and I lost Trey. I think I have the right to mope for a few days.
“I wanted to check on you. You’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls and texts.”
“I needed a few days. Is that too much to ask?”
“No, it’s not. You lost the most important person in your life, Jessie. You need time to grieve, I understand that. But you have people who want to be here for you if you need them.”
I pick at my already-ripping cuticles. “I know. It’s just . . . It’s been hard. Gran’s gone. I can’t even think about going back to work and I miss . . .” I stop myself before I say Trey. “It’s been hard.”
Cody nods, sympathy and understanding in his eyes. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been going through. Life is cruel. One minute they’re here, the next you’re standing in the silence they left behind.”
His words claw at my chest.
Silence. That’s exactly what this feels like. All the sound, the color, the joy in my life—gone in the blink of an eye.
“It took me a long time to work through my grief and start living my life again after we lost Kacey’s mom. Grief is different for everyone, but one thing I believe we all have in common is the need to be gentle with ourselves while we figure out how to breathe again.”
“I think I’m going to quit my job,” I blurt.
Cody’s brows raise, but he gives me space to talk it out.
“I’m burned out and can’t imagine going back there now. I don’t know what I’ll do next, but I can’t work there. Gran’s gone. Trey’s gone. One loss after another and I’m just . . . untethered. Drifting. Spinning. This doesn’t feel like a stumble. It feels like a free fall,” I confess.
He leans forward and pulls a white envelope out of his back pocket.
“And that’s alright. It’s okay to not always be okay.
Your gran knew when her time came, it wouldn’t be easy for you.
No matter how it could have happened. She and I had a conversation the day she asked me to be the executor of her estate.
She gave me this letter and asked me to give it to you if she didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
” He slides the envelope across the table.
I stare at it, afraid to open it. Gran left me a letter? She knew how hard this would be for me and planned ahead, always making sure I’m taken care of.
“When did she give you this?”
“A year ago.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Can I do anything? Kacey is worried sick.”
“No. I’m sorry, I’ll text her back.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Jessie. She just loves you. If you need anything, let us know. If you feel up to it, come to family dinner on Sunday.”
“Thanks, Cody.”
He leaves, and I stare at the envelope, terrified of what’s inside. Gran could always see past my bullshit—she always seemed to know and understand what I was feeling. Even if she never said a word.
I work up the courage to pick it up and move to the couch.
I wish Trey were here.
I wish I could tell him about my mom stopping by.
I’m so tired of doing everything alone, carrying all the weight by myself. I swallow the lump in my throat and break the seal. Inside, there is a single sheet of folded paper.
Tears well when I see her messy scrawl. Then fall in rapid succession as I read her last words to me.
Dear Jessie,
If you’re reading this, it means we didn’t get to say goodbye, and for that I am truly sorry.
But know this: I loved you more than life itself.
After I lost Edward, I didn’t see a reason to go on until the day I picked you up.
You brought color back into what had become a black-and-white life, and I loved every minute I spent with you.
Raising you was the greatest joy of my life, and I am so proud to be your grandmother.
I’ve watched you struggle with the demons of your past for years.
It breaks my heart I didn’t step in sooner and save you from the monsters that now haunt you.
But always remember how strong you are, Jessie girl.
You built a beautiful life for yourself and a family with the Harts.
Lean into that family now, and while I know you will miss me, remember how much I loved you.
I’m with Edward now, and I’ve missed him terribly.
If I could offer you one last piece of advice, it’s this: Live for yourself.
Don’t let anyone else’s opinions, thoughts, or fears control you.
Travel, change jobs, have kids, don’t have kids—hell, join a nudist colony for all I care—but at the end of this life, have no regrets.
Live your life, chase your dreams, and love, baby girl.
Find that great love like I found in Edward.
You are worthy of love and have so much love to give in return.
Don’t miss out on that part of life. Your grandfather and I will be cheering you on, waiting for the day we see you again.
All my love,
Gran
I don’t try to hold back my sobs as I read it again and again. It’s like she knew the exact words I would need to hear at this moment.
She’s right. I’ve spent my entire adult life living for everyone but me. I’m proud and grateful that I was able to care for her—I’ll never regret that—but I let this town, my father, and the opinions of others control of my life. That ends now.
I don’t want to work at the ER anymore. Maybe I’ll go back to nursing someday, but right now I need a break. I can’t handle being in the same room where I lost her, and I don’t have to. Cody is handling her estate, so I don’t have to cover extra bills while things get sorted.
I can do whatever I want with my life.
Most of all, I want Trey. I think I found that great love without even looking. He’s that great love for me.
My heart pounds at my revelation. Standing from the couch, I dry my tears, fold the letter, and place it back in the envelope. A plan settles into my mind. I take a quick shower, rinsing off the days of grief before I make the call.
“Hello?”
“Can we talk? I have something to tell you.”
Then, for the first time in my life, I look in the mirror and see more than Daryl Hawkins’s daughter.