All Your Firsts Without Me, page 5
He was great. The best of the best. One of those guys you meet, and you know instantly he is an honorable man.
Our first meeting was a little awkward. I contacted David not knowing he was married to April. I had been one of the lucky few who had received an advanced copy of her memoir from her publisher. The story of the girl in the basement. I thought reading it would help my obsession, but all it did was dump fuel on the fire. So, I set out to find her. I got nowhere. That was when I decided to find the officer who found April locked in the basement.
When I finally got a number for him, I was ecstatic. I was sure he would be able to help me find her. He agreed to meet me at the White Glass Lounge. When he arrived, I told him my story, told him who I was and why it was so important to locate her. April was my muse, and I needed her. I still need her.
Looking back, I’m surprised he didn’t punch me in the nose first and ask questions later. He listened quietly, and then he smiled. I poured my heart and soul out to this man, and then he told me April was his wife. The world stopped in that moment. I was devasted, and yet I wasn’t, because I still held on to the hope that he would at least introduce me to her. But that’s not what happened.
He never introduced her and I. Last Friday was the first time I ever saw her. She walked into the bar and it was like all of time stopped. David looked towards the door as soon as it opened, like he could sense her before she even arrived. Their eyes met and the love I witnessed made my heart clench painfully. I watched their interaction with fascination and a longing in my soul.
Then she stood right next to me, waiting for the waitress to take her payment. David selected her favorite song on the jukebox, and I gently nudged her arm, telling her it looked like someone was waiting for a dance. She didn’t even look my way. Her eyes were solely on him.
I trembled at her nearness, scared I would do or say the wrong thing. It wasn’t our time, it was theirs. David only allowed me that glimpse as a way of showing me the stakes. When we spoke the next morning by phone, he told me if I want her to look at me the same way she looked at him, it will take a lot of work and patience. I’m willing to do that. I am.
You’re thinking I’m a stalker, aren’t you? You’re wondering why in the world would David ever go along with this. Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’m not sure if April will ever love me like she does David. Maybe she won’t even like me. But no risk, no reward. I have to try.
Something happened during all of this that I didn’t expect. I started to look at David as a father figure. I evidently needed him as much as I thought I needed her. Our Friday afternoons at the bar became something I looked forward to each week and I think he did too. Now I’m lost and feeling terribly alone. I miss him. I miss him a lot.
David’s service is being held in a local high school gymnasium. He was loved by many. He was a hero, after all. A few weeks into our friendship, we realized he had even been my hero. He was one of the officers who was first to arrive on the scene of the car accident I’d been in. I don’t remember much of that day, only the voice of a man telling me to be strong, to hold on. It was David’s voice. When I described my accident, he paled and told me he had been called to the scene. He said Giles flagged traffic while he sat with me and tried to keep me calm until the paramedics arrived. It’s one thing April and I have in common. David was a champion for the both of us.
Anyway, we aren’t unique in that. This gymnasium is filled with people David helped in one way or another.
I’m sitting with Giles and his wife. He pats me on the back when it’s time for the family to walk in. David’s casket comes first, draped in the American flag. Giles’s wife gently reaches across her husband to tuck a tissue into my tightly clenched fist. I mouth a thank you to her. But I’m not going to cry. Nope, not me. I’ll cram that shit so far down it will never be found.
David’s son, Kaden, has his arm around April, guiding her to the front. Several other family members trail behind them. Her gaze is haunted, her skin pale as she flits between the isles of hard metal chairs. Kaden helps her to sit in the first seat, then takes the one beside her. Her eyes slowly drift from the floor until they find the casket. She flinches, surprised to find it there, so close to her.
The service begins, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. She sits quietly as others rise to speak about her husband. After everyone has spoken, the minister walks over and helps her stand. On shaky feet, she makes her way to the podium. He shifts the microphone to her height. She offers him a small smile for doing so.
She stares at the papers in front of her. The gym is silent except for a few coughs and an occasional whimper of a small child. The silence goes on for so long my heart cries for her. I want to rush to the front and rescue her from whatever she is about to say. Couldn’t someone else read it for her, on her behalf? Why, oh why, isn’t someone saving her?
Just as I’m about to jump out of my seat, her head rises and her eyes roam over the crowd that came to say goodbye to the man she loved. She finally speaks, and oh my god, I can’t tell you how my heart sings at the sound of her voice. So long I’ve wondered what she would sound like.
“My husband asked me to come up here today and sing for all of you… and for him.” Her eyes lovingly roam over David’s casket. “He asked me to sing my favorite song.”
My heart stops. It literally just stops.
“He used to joke it was his favorite too. I knew that was a lie, but one day he told me it was true. It was his favorite because it would always remind him of me. I listened to this song over and over again as I tried to fight my way out of a dark place. The lyrics spoke to me as if the writer had been locked in that basement with me. Anyhow, David said it had grown on him and he asked that I share it with you today, and I will, but first I’m going to sing Amazing Grace. It was the song that led him to me in the very beginning. Hopefully, it will help his soul find its way back.”
April nods to the pianist and soon the musical notes to Amazing Grace begin to float over our heads. My heart is frozen in my chest, begging me to kick start it. When her mouth opens, it does the trick. My heart jumps for joy.
I close my eyes, listening to every nervous inflection, every pitch, every note. My fingers tap over my knee in tune with her. When the song is over, I open my eyes to find everyone in tears. Everyone but her. She is staring at the ceiling. The only sound in the gym now is crying and the sound of the pianist shuffling her papers. When the music starts again, I begin to tremble. When she finishes the final verse to her favorite song, the resounding quietness that follows is too much for me. I can’t take it any longer. Leaping to my feet, I exit the gym as swiftly and quietly as I can.
CHAPTER EIGHT
April
As soon as I finished singing, I felt as the though the walls were closing in on me. The room grew dark, and I fell to my knees, the only sound I heard was a pair of men’s dress shoes tapping across the hardwood floor. When the door opened to the outside world, I gasped at the bright light flooding in. It was David. It was him. I know it was. He was rushing to open the doors so that I could breathe, so that I could see.
Kaden hurried to my side and helped me back to my seat. I talked to him right after the service and he told me the room had not grown dark. “I think you were having a panic attack,” he said.
Maybe. It was all so strange and now I can’t shake the feeling. It’s as if there is this unseen force pulling at me, begging me not to fight it.
The streets were lined with people as we made our way from the school to David’s final resting place which is not far from our home. So many people wanted to catch a glimpse and pay their respects to a great man. A hero.
Now here I sit, praying for a miracle I know will not come. God cannot give me back my husband. The graveside service has ended, and people keep coming to me, telling me how sorry they are, offering condolences. Teresa, Jeff, and Kaden are all up, mingling and talking with people. All I can do is stare at the casket, frozen in my chair. Most of the mourners have given up on me and are focused on speaking with the rest of my family.
I’m trying to figure out how I can convince them to let me stay here tonight. Walking away is inconceivable.
I blink my eyes. You are going to think I’m hallucinating and maybe I am, but a butterfly has landed on David’s casket. It flits to my left and as I turn my head following it, a man kneels down beside me. The big yellow butterfly dances over his head for a moment before flying away. I stare after it for several minutes until it completely disappears.
I jump when I realize the man is still kneeling quietly beside me. Slowly, I turn my eyes to his. He offers me a sad smile. “Hello, April. My name is Westin. I was friends with your husband. He was an amazing man, but you already know that.” He chuckles nervously before continuing. “Anyway, he told me you had a beautiful voice, he didn’t lie.”
Eyes are the windows to the soul. When I met David, I knew instantly he was a good person because I could see the sunshine in his eyes. They were golden brown, and I felt warmed instantly by them. This man’s eyes are a unique shade of green. An inner light shines through them. It’s like looking at the sun through a piece of sea glass. His cheeks turn a light shade of pink at my scrutiny. I clear my throat, trying to speak. I don’t know what compels me, I haven’t spoken to anyone else today. “Thank you. I haven’t sung in many years, but he asked, and he is a hard man to say no to… or he was…” I let my words trail off as my eyes roam back to my husband.
“Yes, he was a very hard man to say no to,” he agrees. When I don’t say anything else, he places his hand over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I will leave you to your thoughts.” He stands and turns to walk away. My eyes trail after him. Something about him is familiar, I can’t place him though. When he gets to his car, he pauses and looks over his shoulder at me. He smiles when he sees I’m watching him. I offer him a small smile of my own before facing forward once again.
Everyone leaves but Kaden and me. We sit side by side till the day grows dark.
“We should go. They’ve probably wanted to kick us out for the last several hours. They need to finish up here,” he says, turning to face me.
“How can I leave?” I whisper.
“You take my hand and together we will walk to the car.” He takes my hand in his, stands and pulls me to my feet. He walks me over to the casket, placing his hand over it. I lean down and kiss the cool, smooth surface, choking down the lump in my throat.
Then we turn and walk away.
It is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
“I think the service went well. Everyone loved your singing,” Kaden says, trying to break the silence.
“It was nice. Your dad would have loved it.” I tug at a loose string on my dress absentmindedly. “When are you going back to school?”
“I need to leave first thing in the morning. But don’t worry, Jeff and Teresa will take turns staying with you for a while. As long as you need, they said.”
I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her that won’t be necessary. I’m fine staying by myself. I don’t need a bunch of babysitters.
When we get home, Kaden pulls out a big tub of double chocolate chunk ice cream from the freezer. We sit beside each other on the couch, he hands me a spoon, keeping one for himself and we dig in. “You know I’ve always looked at you as more of a sister than a step-mother,” he says, laughing.
I shove him in the arm, happy for the light conversation and ice cream. “Well, I’ve always looked at you as a brother, not as a son, if that makes you feel any better.”
He nods, pulling the spoon out of his mouth. “We’re going to be okay, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” We finish the entire tub then say our goodnights. It’s been a long, long day and Kaden needs to get on the road early tomorrow.
I’m so tired until I lie down, then I’m wide awake. Great. Swinging my legs over the bed, I lean over and tug my box of letters out. It’s crazy to think he wrote all of these for me. Just for me. It makes me happy, yet sad. I don’t want letters. I want real conversations. I want hugs and kisses. I want late night snacks. I want him. I want him. I want him.
Quietly, I make my way back out to the garage and drive back to the cemetery. It’s dark but I don’t care. I park, grab my pillow and blanket out of the back, then walk the short distance to my husband’s grave. The casket is gone, only a scar of raw dirt remains. I lie on my back next to it, staring at the stars, wondering where he is.
When I was young, my father preached to me about damnation, fire, and brimstone. It seemed those were the only sermons I deserved. My younger sister, however, got a different side of my father. He told her that a special place awaited her in Heaven. Actually, I have five sisters, my father loved them all. All but me. I’m the black sheep of the bunch.
I wonder if David is in Heaven.
Anyhow, I don’t know why I’m even thinking about them. They are not my life anymore. David and Kaden are. Well, now it’s just Kaden… no, that’s not true either. Kaden is going back to school tomorrow so it’s just me.
Alone. Will it be just like the basement all over again?
I lie there all night, watching shooting stars, wishing on every one of them. When the sun forces them into hiding, I pick up my blanket and pillow. I stand in front of his headstone. “I’ll be back,” I say shyly. “I hope you’re not disappointed in me. I… I didn’t want you to be alone.”
I turn quickly and hustle back to the car, taking a deep breath when I get in. That was harder than I thought.
CHAPTER NINE
April
I said goodbye to Kaden this morning, then called Jeff and Teresa and told them I was fine. I don’t need anyone to stay with me. They pleaded a strong case, but I firmly told them no. That is something David taught me, that it’s okay to say no.
The first day alone went fine. I kept busy cleaning the house. My publisher called to check in. I went through the motions. I told him I wasn’t sure about the book signing. I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Maybe if David was here.
As the sun was getting ready to set, I decided to go down to the beach but when I got to the path, the memories of the night he died came rushing back. I turned around and ran back inside the house. I gathered up my things and drove to the cemetery instead.
“It’s me again,” I tell David quietly. I lay the blanket down, making quick work of unpacking the picnic basket I brought along. “I didn’t want to eat alone,” I say before taking a bite of the sandwich I made. Brushing the crumbs off my shirt, I glance up at his name. “At least I’m eating. Right?”
Here with him, I don’t have to think about the rest of the world where I might say or do something wrong. Here with him, I can still be myself. Awkward. Quiet. Me.
“So, I’m thinking I could keep writing but here with you. I don’t really see any reason to have to go out in the world. I mean, of course I’ll go home to shower and change.” I glance around, feeling more at home with the quiet of the dead than I do in the hustle and bustle of the living. “I mean it’s nice here. It’s better than the basement and you’re here so…” A flock of birds rush out of a nearby tree, circling high before settling back in its branches.
“I know you would be angry with me,” I whisper, breaking off a piece of my sandwich and tossing it to a squirrel who has curiously ventured my way.
After I finish eating, I pack everything away in the car before going back. “Goodnight,” I say quietly, plucking grass as I lie on my side. Eventually, I fall asleep.
This remains my ritual for many days to follow. Maybe it will last until the day they put me in the ground beside him.
My moves become robotic. Wake, go home, shower, answer calls, tell everyone I’m fine, pack my supper and head back to the cemetery. I’m fine. This is good. This I can do.
I’m starting to wonder if my father was right. Maybe I am cursed. I probably deserve to be alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.
No, I’m not alone. David is here. And Mr. Henry Ferguson and his wife. They are only a few feet away. And then there is Elizabeth Wentworth, she died at the ripe age of one hundred and three. What stories she must have had, living that long.
See, I’m not alone.
I’m fine. This is way better than the basement ever was.
Yeah, I’m fine. Good, even.
My phone rings, it’s Kaden. He calls every night. “Hello,” I say quietly, not wanting to disturb the dead in their solace.
“Hey, April, how are you doing?”
“Good. I’m fine,” I say steadily, making sure my voice gives nothing away.
“Teresa said she stopped by to check on you but you’re not home.”
“Yeah, oh yeah, I’m out.”
“Where?”
“I went out to dinner. I’ve discovered I don’t like eating alone. So…” I hate lying. Hate. It.
“That’s great. I’m glad you’re getting out. I was worried you would sit at home all by yourself.” I hear a bunch of guys laughing in the background.
“Are you at a party?” I ask him.
“Eh, not a party. I have a few friends over. We’re watching the game.”
“That’s nice,” I tell him, my gaze wandering over David’s name. He’ll be happy to know Kaden is doing well. He was so worried about how he would handle his death. “Well, I’ll let you go. You can tell Teresa I’m fine.”
“Oh, okay. Are you sure you’re doing all right?”
“Yeah. I’ve been busy writing. Sometimes I go to the park. It’s too quiet at the house.” This is close to a park. It has trees and grass. I toss a chip to Cracker. That’s my squirrel’s name. And parks have squirrels too, so, yeah, this is exactly like a park. It’s not a lie, I decide. And I did eat here and not at home, so again, not lying.
“I’m sure it is. Okay, okay,” he says, still uncertain of how I’m actually doing. “You’ll call if you need me?”
