Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Leighton
The kids are at Art and Julianna’s. This is their last visit over there before a final decision is made on who they’ll live with. I feel as if I’m in the world’s longest competition.
Over the last few days, I’ve been thinking about Hayes’s words, about Sky and Patrick’s room…
can any of us really move on when we walk by this door that remains shut?
It’s a constant reminder of what happened, as though we’re stuck in time, bound to relive the tragedy.
If we want to move forward, we need to move on.
At the same time, we need to bring them to life in our memories.
Sky deserved to be honored, not forgotten.
And right now, this room represents us all trying to forget, trying to pretend as though their deaths never happened.
I rest my hand on the doorknob and close my eyes as I twist it.
Then I push the door open, step in, and instead of shutting it, I leave the door open.
All I can do is stare at the bed and see Sky lying there, her head propped up on her pillow, reading her Kindle until the middle of the night. She’d always tell me how tired she was the next day, but how it was such a good book that it was worth it.
Her walking out of the bathroom in her robe with her hair twisted in one of the microfiber towels she was always buying me so my hair wouldn’t be frizzy.
How am I supposed to pack all this up and erase her? Once all these things are gone from here, where does she live? Only in our hearts? How do we show that she was once on this earth? She was a daughter, a mother, a cousin, a friend. She was an amazing human being. She and Patrick both.
I force myself to be brave and walk through the room. It all looks so daunting. But I need to face the pain, push through it, and move on so that all of us can move forward.
When I reach her closet, I take out her UIC sweatshirt and press it to my face, inhaling her scent as if she’s hugging me hello or goodbye again.
“I miss you so much,” I mumble into the fabric.
“Hello?” Callie’s voice calls from downstairs.
I’m tempted to drop the sweatshirt, run out of the room, and shut the door, but I stay put. She swears when her foot hits the third step, and it creaks loudly.
“Leighton?” Her voice is softer as she steps into the room. I emerge from the closet, and she smiles softly at me. “Want some help?”
I didn’t think I did. I wanted to do it myself. I told her as much this morning on the phone, which was perfect since she had a podcast recording planned. But she’s here, and I’ve never been so thankful.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.” She holds up her finger and rushes down the stairs, swearing again when the third stair from the bottom squeaks again. When she returns, she has a box of trash bags and empty moving boxes. “Just put me to work.”
We spend the afternoon designating piles for keep, giveaway, or trash, and I put together a box of Patrick’s things for Art to go through.
We share stories and memories about our time with them, and for the first time in a long time, I remember them as the couple they were, not the perfection I envisioned after they died.
How Sky would complain about his boxers not making it into the hamper.
Or Patrick telling us about how Sky is hyper-organized, but she squeezes the toothpaste in the middle. Callie pulls the toothpaste from the drawer and says, “She really did,” and we laugh with tears in our eyes.
Sky was always picking on Patrick for not finishing the last few drops of water in a cup.
“They were a great couple though,” Callie says, which makes me remember that I haven’t told her about the counselor or the bag I found in the closet.
For some reason, I’m not sure I want to share the fact that they might have been having some issues when they died. Let them live on in everyone’s eyes as having had a wonderful marriage.
When we’re done, we sit on the floor and stare at all the bags and boxes.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but this is where my brother would be good to have around.”
“True. He’s good at carrying the heavy stuff.” I mean it in more ways than one. Callie opens her mouth to say more, but I shake my head. “Not yet.”
“Okay.” She nods.
She hasn’t pushed me or tried to convince me to call Hayes.
I miss him so much. I’ve almost caved so many times.
But after I rehashed everything he said that night, I realized that I won’t be a good partner to him until I do what he said—deal with my issues.
I just hope I can get through it before I lose him completely.
The thought of him being with another woman makes me feel physically ill.
He came into my life exactly when I needed someone like him the most, but I’m still letting those lingering doubts keep us from really moving forward. And when I call him and ask for another chance, I want to do it knowing I won’t be waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Callie comes to my side and puts her arm around my waist. “I’m really proud of you. This is some adult-level shit. You really put your big-girl panties on.”
I chuckle and lay my head on her shoulder, and she kisses the top of my head.
Then I scan the room, seeing Sky and Patrick’s backpacks just by the door. “We still have to deal with those.”
“We can donate them as is if you want.”
I’m already getting up. “I want to see what’s in here. It was with them when they…”
“Okay.” She follows.
I pick up both backpacks and place them on the bed. She takes Sky’s, and I have Patrick’s.
Sky’s doesn’t have anything out of the ordinary. Clothes, a poncho, and other essentials to go hiking for a day.
Patrick’s holds all the navigation essentials. The compass, a physical map of the trails, snacks like trail mix and beef jerky. A water bottle. At the very bottom of the bag, wrapped in a T-shirt, is another phone.
“Did he have a separate work phone?” Callie asks.
We already took out the phone that the police put in the side pockets of each of their bags.
I frown. “I don’t think so, but I guess it’s possible.”
“I feel like they would’ve told you or asked you when they came for his computer.”
She’s right. Patrick’s work came by shortly after he passed and took his laptop and all the other work-related security equipment.
“Well, let’s charge it up.” Callie holds out her hand and grabs the charger that was next to Sky’s bed, plugging it in.
“And now let’s get everything out before the kids return after dinner.” I pick up one of the bags.
Callie was right, having Hayes here would’ve made it a lot easier to get the bags into the garage, but we manage.
We order dinner to be delivered, and when it arrives and we sit down to eat, I catch her checking the score of the Colts game when she thinks I’m not looking. They’ve been gone for a week, and they’ll be gone for another one.
“How are they doing?” I ask.
“What?” She slides her phone into her back pocket.
I tilt my head. “Come on.”
“He’s playing like complete shit. Can’t focus or concentrate without you.” She smiles a little too wide and too fake.
“Callie.”
“Okay, he’s playing pretty great actually. Hit a home run last night and drove in the winning run, and he’s two for three today.” She waves. “But he’s probably crying himself to sleep at night.”
Or finding someone to keep his hotel bed warm.
No. That’s just an old pattern of thinking. I know Hayes wouldn’t do that. Not so soon.
“I’m happy for him.”
“Sure, you are,” she deadpans.
“I really am. I want him to have all the success he wants on that field. Honestly.”
She pats my hand. “You know what I’m upset about?”
“What?” I fork my lo mein noodles.
“I never got to see you guys together. I bet it was a pretty great sight.”
I smile because it really was. The happiest I’ve ever been.
After Callie leaves and before the kids return, I go back into Sky and Patrick’s room. I’m about to shut the door, but I think I’ll have a conversation with the three of them about leaving the door open from now on.
I notice that Patrick’s second phone’s screen is lit up, and it’s vibrating all over the nightstand.
I pick it up and slide my thumb across the screen. “Hello?”
“Is Patrick there?” a deep male voice asks.
“Who is this?”
“Sky?” he asks.
Who is this person, and how do they not know that Patrick and Sky are no longer with us?