If Only We (19 page)

I am beginning to question this second chance. I am feeling a strange feeling…like a mixture of guilt coupled with unexplainable distress that makes me want to jump out of my own skin.

It terrifies me.

I make my way up front afterwards and walk up to the casket to pay my respects. It's hard to look at him. He looks like my great aunt Beatrice—sleeping. My hand involuntarily reaches out to him, as if he was still here, but I flinch back at the last second. I hate open caskets. Seeing somebody lying dead in front of me, it pains my heart. Seeing their eyes closed, never to open again. Seeing their still chest, never to breathe again.

Seeing their lifeless body, lowered into the ground.

The anger spreads through my being. I touch the side of the casket and lean in, whispering, “You shouldn’t be gone,” as I force myself to hold in the tears.

There's a line of people surrounding the family. I stand behind them, anxiety rising inside of me. When I reach the front, Chevy is nowhere in sight. Where is he? I gather myself together and go up to Noreen. She pulls me in for a hug before I can even speak to her. I whisper quickly, “I am so sorry.”

She whispers into my ear, “Thank you so much for being there for us at the hospital.”

Tears begin to well up in my eyes. I whisper back, “Of course.”

She pulls back and holds on to both my shoulders. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” I say again.

“Please try to find Chevy and talk to him. He escaped right after the services. He'll listen to you. I need him right now.” All I can do is nod. She lets go of me and is enveloped in another hug.

I step out of the way and take in what she said. Find him, talk to him. It is the first and last thing I want to do. It scares me to go up to him. What do I say to him? I don't know how to console someone who has lost a parent. I'm afraid he won't want me there. Will not want to be consoled.

Like before.

Then I remember. This is my second chance. He needs a friend. Whether he wants it or not, he needs it. I need to do this. For him.

I sneak my way out of the building, avoiding anybody who may stop me on my way out. I open the door to a clouded-over sky. The fresh air reinvigorates me, if only a little bit to keep me walking. I look around and spot the park across the street. It's the same one Chevy and I were at not long ago. Something tells me he is in there. I look both ways, run across, and start down the path. It's nearly desolate, likely due to the threat of rain.

It doesn’t take long to find him. He's sitting on a bench facing the duck pond under a tree. He is leaning forward, staring into the distance. He seems almost as helpless as he did when I saw him in the cemetery. The fear of what he will say almost takes over. I can’t let fear win. It won in round one. Round two is not one for chickens. I swallow my pride and sit down on the bench next to him.

He doesn’t turn his head but he knows it's me. I hear his breathing change slightly at my presence. Almost like before, but not exactly. “I want to be alone,” he says.

If this were taking place way back when, I would have listened. This time I turn my body at an angle and say, “No, you don’t.” I reach out and take both of his hands in both of mine. “I am not leaving you.”

His eyes meet mine for the first time in days. I watch them trade anger for surrender. I squeeze his hands. His lips begin to tremble and he looks down, away from my gaze. I feel his tears drop down onto our hands. The next thing I know, he pulls his hands from mine and puts both of his arms around me. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as he sobs into my shoulder. I gently stroke his hair and whisper to him that everything will be all right. We sit like this for a while. Even when the crying subsides, he doesn’t let go of me.

And I don’t let go of him.

Chapter Thirty-five

Saturday, August 25
^th

I don’t know what to do with myself.

I am in the last twenty-four hours of my second chance and I have no idea what to think of it. Was that it? Is that what was supposed to happen? Did fate really think it was necessary to have me start over to end up pretty much the same? Sure, not everything has completely fallen apart.

Yet.

Then again, what if this was not how it was supposed to end up too? What if there is the possibility of having to start over until I get it right? Imagine having to relive all of this and every single detail I would have to fix.

Again.

I lean back against the wall behind my bed. Sitting here is not getting me anywhere. Dwelling on the negative possibilities is not helping me either. If this is it, I should be doing something to make things better.

I drive over to the Thompsons' house. There has to be something I can do for them. I don’t know what but I am willing to do what I can to make things easier if possible.

Seymour answers the door with a warm smile. “Adrienne, you’re just in time.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Just in time for what?”

He gestures that I come in. I step through the door and he closes it behind him carefully. He says quietly, “Chevy snuck out at some point in the middle of the night. He isn't answering his phone. Mom is beside herself. Well, she already was, but this is making it worse. I tried calling all his friends and several people in our family but nobody knows where he is.” He pauses. “Then I realized the person I needed to get in touch with was you.”

“Why me?” I ask. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Ah,” he says, holding up his index finger. “But you do.”

I stare at him, baffled. “How can I know when I don’t know?”

Seymour tries to hold back a laugh. “Come on. Don’t be so naïve. You and I both know there is a close friendship between the two of you. Maybe there isn’t something more,” he smiles, “but trust me, he needs you more than he has been letting on.”

I blink a few times in realization as to what he is hinting at. “Oh.” I stare off at the wall for a moment, taking that in. Here I am doubting when an outsider can see everything. Could he be right? I can’t help but doubt though, despite the certainty in his voice. Do I really know Chevy that well? I'm not some supernatural being that knows all about Chevy. I can’t just picture exactly where he would run off. Then it hits me. There is only one person who remembers what happened today. One person who remembers the end and the beginning.

I know where he is.

~*~

At the cemetery before, I didn’t know that Chevy would be there. Well, there weren’t any guarantees. All I had was this feeling, something inside telling me that was where I would find him.

I was right then and I know I am right now.

As I arrive there today, the anxiety from the first time returns. I sit there and take a deep breath. “You can do this. You are not a coward.”

I don’t know if it was the speech of confidence or my own determination, but I push my hesitation aside. I step out of my car and head down the same path, right where I need to go. There he is, standing there like before. This time, I don’t stop. I keep walking, straight for him.

He hears me coming this time. He says, “I had a feeling you would come looking for me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

A slight twinge of a smile edges on the corner of his lips, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. “Sometimes I wonder why you do.”

I guess I'm not the only one with doubts. “I care about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you listen to me when I talk. You go out of your way to cheer me up when I am down. You chose to be friends with me out of all the rest of our classmates when you didn’t even know me yet. You care about everyone around you so much. You are one of the closest friends I have ever had in my life.”

He slowly closes his eyes. I stand there silently, waiting for him to respond to my words. He opens them again and turns to me, a mixed expression on his face. He finally says, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For,” he holds open a hand toward the grave, “just helping me get through this.”

I press my lips together. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m helping that much.”

“You’re helping more than you know.”

His words give me a sensation I haven’t felt in a long time. It's hard to describe but it feels like a reassurance. Of what? I'm not sure yet but it reminds me of Seymour’s words earlier. I stand there a moment. I break the silence and say, “Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes.” He sits down next to the grave and I sit next to him. He leans on my shoulder. “Despite everything that happened, I'm glad I tried to do something for him before he died.”

I lean my head on his head. “He was glad you did too.”

“How can you know?”

“Trust me, I know. I could see it in his eyes.”

“Now that you mention it, I think I saw it too.” He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Will it ever get easier?”

I squeeze his hand. “Someday. Someday it will.”

Chapter Thirty-six

Sunday, August 26
^th

I wake up the next day with a jolt. My legs nearly fall from under me as I leap out of bed, and I have to steady myself with a hand on the dresser. I go downstairs to find my mom pouring syrup over her waffles. This is different. This isn’t like before.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

My sudden appearance in the doorway startles her to the point where she clutches her heart. “My goodness, you scared me.”

“What is today?” I ask in a hurry.

“Sunday.”

“No, the date.”

“The twenty-sixth.”

“Of?”

“August.”

“It’s not June?”

“No.” She tilts her head in confusion. “Why?”

It’s not June second again. It’s August. It’s the day I was supposed to live to begin with. Then that changed. I tried to change the course of time. I tried to change everything. I tried so hard to fix my mistakes.

And I got nowhere.

I can’t tell her any of this. I shake my head and force a smile. “Nothing. Just a weird dream that it was June again, that’s all.” It’s all just a dream, isn’t it?

I wish it were a dream.

I grab a banana and go back upstairs before she can respond. I quickly slip into the jeans that are on the floor from yesterday and throw on a tee. Next thing I know I am in my car and driving aimlessly. I need to talk to somebody about this so badly but I can’t. I can’t tell a soul about what happened to me because not only will they not believe me but they will probably want to take me in for a psychiatric evaluation. What can I do? Where can I go?

As I leave the city limits, I have the sense of déjà vu wash over me when the abandoned barn comes into view. I turn into that driveway and jump out the second I turn off the ignition. I break into a run and go inside the barn. I stand there in the center of the barn and just look around. For a barn that is not in use, it isn’t as broken down as I expected to see it. Dirt-encrusted straw covers the floor and the stalls. Nobody has been here for several months, if not a year or two possibly. At least that means that no one can stop me from being in here.

And if nobody is here, I can tell these walls anything I want.

“So…” I start, breaking the silent air, “this is how it’s going to be, huh? You give me a second chance and I’ve blown it.” Part of me knows that I have done some good, like yesterday with Chevy.

It doesn’t bring John back though.

“Maybe I should be grateful for this. No, I know I should be grateful for this opportunity. But I wish it had never happened. Why did it happen? I just don’t understand!” I let out a frustrated scream. “I screwed it up! Don’t you get it? I screwed it all up.” I kick one of the stall doors and it smacks against the wall with a loud thud. “I want to be happy with how things turned out but I don’t see how I’ve made any progress. I have not done anything to right the wrongs. I have just made things complicated in different ways.”

I heave a heavy sigh and lean my back against the wall. The memory of the last time I was here comes to the front of my mind. The tears I cried before cause new ones to emerge in the corners of my eyes. I fight the urge to cry, and fail. One tear, two tears, three…

I slink down to the floor, hold my knees to my chest, and wipe the tears away with my hand. “This isn’t how I expected my life to be.” As if the first time would have gotten me to that place either. Letting out a deep breath, I shout, “Oh, get a grip, Adrienne! Life isn’t perfect. Not everything will go as planned.” I make a fist and tap my knee a few times. “I suppose I only have myself to blame for most of it. I shouldn’t just assume that everything will fall into place.” I pick myself up and dust off my pants. “I can make it all fall into place. I can still fix this.” Something has to get better; otherwise, I would have relived this again.

There's still time to make things right.

With that, I can feel the possibilities open to me just like when I first realized I had a second chance. My apprehension has not faded but my optimism is renewed.

After taking a moment to catch my breath, I get back into my car and stop by Lyndsay’s house to wish her luck on her first week of college.

“I know it isn’t what you want, but I still wish you were going to be there too,” she says. “We would be in most of the same classes and we could study together.”

“Yeah, it would have been nice. I still have next semester to look forward to.”

“Have you figured out what you want to take?”

I stare at the wall and shake my head. “No. I have no clue.”

She reaches over and puts her arm around my shoulder. “You still have time to discover your true potential.”

I smile at the truthfulness of her words. Considering the reality at hand, for me there is a whole roadway of discovery and choices and decisions. “Yes, I do still have time.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

Friday, August 31
^st

Due to the circumstances, The Auto Shop gave Chevy an extra week off. It was a good idea since he had taken his father’s death hard. I go over every day to get him out of the house. He needs to get out of his head a little bit. Otherwise the grief will take over. I don’t want him to forget about his father, but I don’t want him to dwell on the sadness forever either. It's a difficult balance—one I don’t even know if I would be able to handle if I were in his shoes.