Chapter Sixteen – Ensley #2
Lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, he said, “I didn’t remember it either, Pip. I’m just…fuck. I don’t know how I feel right now. I’m relieved to know why he did what he did, but I’m heartbroken he thought he had to end his life over his eyesight.”
“How do we tell your parents?” I asked softly.
Colt picked up the journal and flipped through the earlier entries. He finally found what he was looking for and ripped out a couple pages. He folded them up and put them in his back pocket.
“If you’re going to give that to your mother and father, maybe we should make sure there isn’t anything else in there?”
“It’s Grady’s private journal, so I have a strong feeling neither of them will want to invade his privacy, even now. But just in case, I think that threesome’s the only part he was really worried about.”
I blew out a breath. “I can’t believe he was going blind. Why didn’t he tell us?”
Colt shook his head. He looked devastated. “I think it was a combination of things that led him to do what he did. The diagnosis, and realizing he’d never be a pilot, Gina leaving him. He lost two things he loved the most.”
“I’m telling you right now, if I ever find that woman—and trust me, I’m going to look for her—I’m going to rip her head off and shove it up her ass.”
Colt’s brows rose. “I just got you back, Ensley. I really don’t want to be visiting you in jail.”
“Tell me you don’t want to track her down.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I do, but that isn’t going to bring Grady back.”
“It will sure as hell make me feel a bit better.”
Colt sighed and looked around the room. “I can’t even imagine what he was feeling.”
I followed his gaze. On one side of the room stood a bookshelf holding books, trophies, and memorabilia Grady had collected over the years.
There were a few model planes he’d put together scattered throughout the room, along with pictures of various planes he’d printed out over the years.
There was also a photo of the entire family at some kind of airshow event.
Grady wore a huge smile on his face as they all stood in front of a fighter jet.
Sinking back onto the bed, I blew out a breath. “Life isn’t fair.”
“No, it’s not.”
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there. I knew we were both feeling numb, but, in an odd way, I felt such relief that we finally had answers. They didn’t make the loss any less devastating, but I prayed knowing what had motivated Grady would help ease some of the guilt from Colt’s shoulders.
Eventually, he stood. “We should get back to it.” Colt opened another drawer of the dresser and took out a handful of folded T-shirts, putting them in another bag.
A part of me wanted to leave. I didn’t want to be here in this room any longer, surrounded by all the things that Grady held so dear. I wanted to run, bury my head in the sand, and forget this day ever happened.
Instead, I stood and walked into the hall and grabbed a few boxes. I put them together and started to pack up the items on the bookcase. Books first, then the planes. I left all the photos for Colt to go through. I figured what he didn’t keep, he’d give to his mother and father.
We worked in silence for the next few hours, only taking a break when Colt said he needed to get out for some fresh air and lunch.
His mother and father had gone to town, so we did the same.
Stopping for a quick bite at River Falls Pizza, then heading back to his parents’ house.
We talked about everything but Grady at lunch, but on the drive back to the house, Colt and I discussed the best way to give the journal to his mother and father.
In the end, we both agreed to do it later that day.
Once back at the house, we worked in silence, continuing to pack up Grady’s life, box by box. The items that were being donated, Colt brought down to his truck. It was mostly his clothes, books, and some other items that Colt felt Grady would agree needed to be donated.
There was only one box that Colt had marked to keep.
It held Grady’s trophies, medals, a couple model airplanes, and the few pieces of jewelry that Grady had owned.
Those included a cross his grandmother had given him, a few friendship bracelets made by me and other friends, and his graduation ring.
“Mom and Dad can go through this and decide what to keep and what to donate,” Colt had said, as he moved the box into the hallway.
I glanced out the window and saw it was now dark. Then I looked around the room. The furniture still remained. Almost everything else that was Grady’s had been removed and the room was now spotless.
The last two remaining items were the white envelope and the brown journal.
Colt dropped to the bed and fell back. “I’m emotionally and physically drained.”
I sat next to him. “Same.”
He reached for my hand and laced his fingers with mine. “Thank you for doing this with me. I thought it would take us a couple days, but I’m glad we knocked it out in one. I’m not sure if I could come back tomorrow and do this.”
All I could do was nod.
“I’m stalling.”
“I figured,” I replied softly, as I lay down on my side and looked at Colt.
He slowly shook his head. “I need to do something.”
Frowning, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“I need to do something for Grady. Or, not exactly for Grady, but in his name. Imagine all the people out there who feel the same way he did. Like life had nothing left to offer them. Grady could have lived a full life with his disease. I think we could have assured him of that, if he’d just told us.
I’m certain we could have helped him. We’ll never know for sure, though, will we? ”
I reached over and ran my finger down his cheek. “We may not have been able to save Grady, but maybe we can save others.”
He turned his head and looked at me, his smile sad. “You’ll help me?”
“Of course I will.”
He gently squeezed my hand as the smile slowly faded. “We know the reason why now. And I honestly thought if I knew, it would heal something in me. It feels like it opened an old wound instead.”
“I think maybe it’s because we know the reason, but we still feel helpless that we weren’t able to do anything for him.”
Colt nodded. “Yes, that’s it.”
He turned and looked back at the ceiling. “I guess we should head downstairs. I can hear the TV going, so I know my parents are still awake.”
After getting up, Colt reached for the envelope and the journal and handed them to me. As we left the room, he turned back and looked at it once again. “Goodbye, Grady. I love you.”
I quickly wiped a tear away and drew in a deep breath to get my emotions under control. Colt gently shut the door, reached for the box, and headed downstairs.
When we walked into the living room, Lynn and Jacob both looked up at us. Jacob muted the TV.
“This box is what I thought you might want to keep and go through at your discretion. It’s trophies, medals, and some personal items that were Grady’s.”
Lynn nodded and watched as Colt set the box on a side table. Then her eyes swung to me…and what I was holding.
“What is that?” she asked.
Colt and I exchanged a look before he took the envelope and walked over to his parents. He sat down on the coffee table and faced them both.
“We found this in Grady’s room, as well as a journal he kept.”
Lynn’s eyes went wide, as Jacob asked, “A journal?”
“Yes.”
“Does it…did he write about why?” Lynn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Colt nodded, and a sob broke free from Lynn. She covered her mouth with her hands.
“Grady had an eye disease.”
Confused, Jacob asked, “What do you mean, an eye disease?”
Colt drew in a breath and quickly blew it out. “Dad, you already know that Grady wanted to be a pilot.”
Jacob nodded.
“I guess he was having issues with seeing at night, and some other things that popped up. He went to see an ophthalmologist, at Gina’s suggestion.”
“Gina’s the woman Grady was dating? The one who was giving him flying lessons?” Jacob asked.
“Yes,” Colt replied.
Lynn drew in a shaky breath. “Why is it that I think you’re about to tell us something terrible?”
Colt rubbed the back of his neck before finally speaking. “Grady had something called retinitis pigmentosa. It sounds like it starts with trouble seeing at night and then your vision becomes decreased until you’re seeing through a pinhole, and then eventually…”
His voice faded.
“You go blind,” Jacob whispered. When Colt and I looked at him in surprise, he sighed.
“My great-grandfather had the same thing. Although, I don’t know if they knew what it was back then.
He could see when he was younger, he used to tell us, but then his vision grew worse and worse.
He was completely blind by the time he was forty-six. ”
“It sounds like it’s a pretty rare genetic eye disorder,” I added softly.
Lynn had taken the journal from Colt, and it was clear she’d turned to the very last few entries. She looked up, tears in her eyes. “That little bitch left him?”
“Thank you!” I said, throwing up my hands and letting them slap down on my thighs. “I said the same thing!”
Jacob leaned toward his wife, reading what Lynn had just read. Then he looked up at Colt. “It wasn’t my fault?” He seemed shocked. “It wasn’t my fault…”
Colt reached for his father’s hand. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Dad.”
I sat silently as Jacob buried his face in his hands and cried. Colt moved to the other side of him on the sofa, and all three of them embraced one another.
It was such a personal and private moment, I felt as if I was intruding. I slowly made my way out of the living room and to the kitchen, where I quickly got to work on making tea and something to snack on. Anything to keep my mind busy.
All while holding in my own tears over ten long years of everyone feeling like they were to blame somehow and recalling all the loss we’d each endured.