Of course not with Tara. This time I chose an older guy, someone my dad said came highly recommended. I did a little research on him online. The man had been in the business for over thirty years and seemed to know his shit.
At first, Dr. Mike was frustrating. He wanted me to tell him about Madeline when it hurt like hell to even think about her. But he insisted he needed to understand and know all the details of this girl who still had such a hold on me even after all these years.
At first, I argued I was there for him to help me forget, help me cope and feel normal, not make me relive the part of my life I was so desperate to get over. But in the end, I figured he knew what he was doing, so I started from the beginning through her death. I told him how I believed with all my heart she was my soul mate so I had no desire to try and find a distant second I’d forever compare to her. I explained that I understood and accepted that I’d never be whole again, but I’d finally begun to recover—move on. Then Maggie came along and literally obliterated every bit of progress I’d made so far.
Finally, on my third session after not doing much more than listening to me intently and jotting a lot of notes down, he had a mouthful to say. “First of all, let me once again extend my deepest condolences. There’s nothing worse than losing a loved one so unexpectedly.”
I was already beginning to feel annoyed. I wasn’t here for condolences or pity. I was here to get help. Then he asked me something that stumped me.
“Nicolas, when you say you’d almost recovered, what do you mean by that?”
I shook my head, feeling a little stupid because I really had no idea how to explain it. Shrugging, I did my best to anyway. “I was finally beginning to feel normal.”
“Can you elaborate on what you mean by normal?”
Letting out a harsh breath, I glanced around. “I don’t know. Just not so sick with grief anymore. I was finally getting back to enjoying simple things like before.”
He peered at me for moment, tapping his lips with the tip of his pen. “Before? As in before Madeline was killed?”
I stared at him, not immediately answering because it felt like a trick question but then decided I may as well just answer. “Yeah, I guess. Before, all I did was drag my ass through every step of my day.”
“But before this happened, your life revolved around Madeline. She was your everything. Being with and talking to her daily was your normal. There’s no way you’re ever getting that back.”
“I know that—”
“I think,” he said, interrupting me before I could snap at him as I was sure he could already tell I wanted to, “what you think you want to get back to is the normal you had before you fell for Madeline. Before you ever had a chance to feel the kind of love that would hurt so profoundly to lose.”
Swallowing hard, I stared at him but nodded, and he went on.
“Is that what you’ve been doing? Trying to erase the memories—the pain—by not revisiting photos, her paintings, or even talking about her to anyone?”
Once again, I nodded but was too damn choked up to speak. It was true. As weak as that sounded, I had to admit it. A part of me did wish I could just forget her, even if it meant forgetting all the memories. They were just too damn painful to relive. She’d been gone less than a week when I begged my dad to take down the painting of us in the great room and put it somewhere where I couldn’t see it.
“Nicolas, do you realize that, in the three sessions we’ve had, you’ve been so somber and even angry at times. But the times you spoke of Madeline, the memories you have of her, how crazy she drove you sometimes, but it’s what you loved about her the most, they’ve been the only times I’ve seen you smile genuinely? The only times I’ve seen you pulled out of what you’ve referred to as your perpetual funk.”
I stared at him through my blurred eyes, but if it was impossible to speak before, there was no way I was attempting to now, so, I said nothing. Puckering my lips because I could already feel them tremble, I shook my head and looked away.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, Nicolas.” He handed me a box of tissue, and I took it, feeling beyond annoyed with myself. “’Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.’”
I nodded, swatting a tear away with the tissue when he paused. Of course I’d heard the fucking saying. But if he was going to try to feed me this highly debatable theory as fact, things were about to get heated. My mangled heart would have plenty to say about that. There was a tug at the corner of his lip when I glanced up at him and refrained from glaring.
“I take it you don’t agree.” He didn’t wait for a response before going on. “Fair enough. Let me ask you a hypothetical question. Say it were possible for you to go back in time and not make a move to get to know Madeline, ignore any attraction you had to her, and therefore never experience the love you had for her. You’d never experience being loved by someone as profoundly as she loved you, but then, as fate would have it, she’d still lose her life the way she did. You could go on living without the pain of having lost the love of your life, but also without all those memories. All those blissful moments you did get to have with her. Would you change the way things happened? Would you not make a move?”
It was a tough question, and I was sure it was why he’d posed it. I shrugged because I really didn’t know the answer. Would it have even been possible to ignore my attraction to her? Would staying away from her have been doable even if I knew about the pain I’d have to endure later?
“Studies have shown that the biggest regret in people’s mind is a romantic one,” Dr. Mike went on when I didn’t offer more than the shrug. “More so the regret of not doing something versus doing something they later regretted. I think if you dig deep enough about this one, you’ll decide not only is it better to have loved and lost, but those memories are ultimately what are going to help you recover. The only reason it’s taken you this long is because you’ve been fighting what you should be embracing. Don’t you see?” He smiled even as I swatted tears away. “You’ve been depriving your heart of one of the most beautiful times of your life. Those memories are all you have now. They should be cherished, son. Not buried with her.”
I heard him take a deep breath as I continued to stare out into space with my blurred vision, still unable to speak.
“Our time’s up now. But I’d like you to give that more thought. You said the times you did visit her grave you walked away feeling a strange sense of empowerment. Maybe what you were really feeling was your heart and soul’s reaction to being allowed to remember what I think is fair to say are some of the happiest moments of your life. Maybe a trip to Huntsville would do you some good. You might even consider calling Maggie.”
To be fair, I did give what he said a lot of thought; though calling Maggie was never a consideration. Allowing myself to revisit old photos, her paintings, and maybe even reading some of our texts still on my old phone would be hard enough. I could do some of those things, but going back to Huntsville or calling Maggie wasn’t happening. Then I had the dream.
“Sometimes the stars align in perfect unison, bringing together the perfect union,” Betty says with a smile, despite the pain she’s in.
Madeline’s grandmother’s health has deteriorated quickly, and yet even that doesn’t keep her from going on and on. “Your mother never had a chance.” She chuckles, and I smile as I squeeze Madeline’s hand and kiss her forehead. “I want you two to remember that always. No one and nothing will ever keep you from each other. I’ve lived a long life, sweetheart,” she says, reaching out for Madeline’s hand and then mine.
We both take her hands, and I try to concentrate on what she’s saying and not the nubs on her hands that used to be fingers.
“Your love is the kind that very few are blessed with. You’re like two pieces of a very special puzzle. Neither piece will ever fit anywhere else but with each other. You two are one, and without the other, neither will ever be whole again. So never ever let go . . . n
o matter what circumstances or what anyone says. You are one. Your hearts will forever beat for the other.”
I woke to the sound of the blow dryer in the Jack and Jill bathroom that separated my bedroom with Xavier from Nolan and Quino’s. They were talking loudly over the blow dryer. Something about a bike convention out in Louisville.
“If it were any other weekend, I’d be there in a heartbeat,” Nolan said as he shut the blow dryer off. “I blew Shana off once already for that tattoo convention I went to last time. This weekend there’s some wedding she’s been talking about for months. We even went shopping for it since, apparently, I own nothing appropriate for a wedding.”
Quino sounded almost as annoyed that it seemed he, too, always had other plans when these conventions were going on.
I sat up on my bed, still drowning in thoughts of my dream, even as Nolan and Quino went on. Betty had been one perceptive woman. Even confined to her hospice bed, she’d told Madeline she’d known long before she ever fessed up to it, that Maddie and I were a thing. She said she saw it in Madeline’s eyes whenever the subject was brought up in front of her and then heard the real dread in Loretta’s words whenever she’d fret about the possibility.
But even she would’ve never imagined how suddenly and brutally Madeline and I would be separated. Yes, there was something that could tear us apart.
“Sorry if I woke you, man.” Nolan’s less-than-genuine-sounding apology pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to see him smirking. “You must’ve been up late because it’s not like it’s even that early. I just have to drive out to go pick up the damn slacks Shana made me get specially fitted.”
I didn’t even get a chance to respond to that because Quino was already busting his balls and making chain whip noises. By the time I was fully up and out of bed, both my brothers had moved on to some new topic and into their room. I walked into the bathroom, closed both doors, handled my morning business, and then began brushing my teeth.
As I brushed slowly, I glanced down at the newspaper article they’d been discussing with the details of the bike convention going on all weekend in Louisville. I had the weekend off and no plans as of yet. For a moment, I considered asking Xavier what his plans were. A ride out of town for the weekend might do me some good. Then I froze when I saw the dates of the convention. The last day of the convention was on Madeline’s birthday.
Ever since that last session with Dr. Mike over two weeks prior, I had been considering going out to her grave. If I did, I hadn’t planned on telling anyone about it. No need to get my family worrying all over again. I figured I’d either make a day of it and just squeeze the four-hour drive each way in one day, but decided it’d make for a too long and tiring day. So I’d postponed it until I could come up with a good excuse to be gone overnight. I just hadn’t put much effort into coming up with anything.
I walked back into the bedroom where Xavier was shuffling through a duffle bag. “You seen my headphones?”
I shook my head, still slightly lost in my thoughts of the bike convention. Xavier shoved a change of clothes into his duffle.
Peering at him curiously, I had to ask. “Where you going?”
“Blues festival in Garvin.”
“Today?”
“No, I’m working in the shop today. Festival’s tomorrow, but I’m leaving tonight.” He bounced his brows. “Meeting someone out there tonight. Then going to the festival with Eve.”
Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but chuckle. I’d lost track of all the names of the chicks Xavier went through, but inwardly, my head was already working. “Gotta go,” he said, rushing out of the room.
I glanced down at the paper I was still holding. “Sometimes the stars align in perfect unison,” I whispered under my breath as I opened my closet and pulled out my own duffle.
Chapter 19: Angel of Mud
The familiar drive back to Huntsville alone was enough to have my stomach in knots. Thankfully, I’d called ahead and gotten one of what I was told were the last rooms available that weekend because of some town celebration going on.
I checked in and then drove around town for a bit before heading back to my hotel room. I was nervous about the cemetery, still remembering my last visit here. Even more alarming, I once again could feel her presence. I knew it was all in my head. I was just psyching myself out. Being this close to the place I shared so many memories with her and where she’d lost her life was all it was. But I felt that strange feeling of empowerment somehow. Like maybe what Dr. Mike had said was really true.
All day as I’d driven around town, I allowed myself to remember. I even drove by that theater where we’d first kissed. Though I still dared not step foot in it, I figured riding by it was a good first step.
Just before getting into bed in my room that night, I decided I’d get up the next morning, go buy something to leave at her grave for her birthday, and then play the rest of the day by ear. See how I felt about doing more revisiting. The rain came down hard that night, and even that brought on stronger than normal reminders of the rainy days I’d spent making love to my Maddie. The memories were almost too much to bear, but I forced myself through them, embracing them rather than trying to shut them out as I normally did.
The next morning I got up, grabbed a quick breakfast through a drive-thru, then strolled through the festival they were having at the park. Once again, I thought I felt her presence, but again, I decided it was just the nostalgia of it all. I’d walked through this same festival with Maddie on or around her birthday weekend. While it hurt my heart to remember, it still felt like there was some healing happening.
When I spotted the lady selling cornucopia arrangements, my eyes zeroed in on the one filled with M&M’s. “Perfect,” I said, smiling and glancing around because it actually felt like too big a coincidence. It even had a tag for me to write something on, and I did once I got back to my bike. I stared at the tag after writing the only two words that felt perfect.
Amor Eterno.
Dr. Mike was right. My love for Madeline was eternal. So why not embrace all the memories? As heavy as my heart felt when I laid the gift for her on her grave and remembered her beautiful giddy smile, I reminded myself over and over of Dr. Mike’s words. Those memories are ultimately what are going to help you recover.
“You own my heart forever, Peanut,” I whispered, still touching the grass that covered her grave. “I’ll never forget you.”
Completely choked up, I tore myself away and drove away on a mission. First, I drove to a few other places I hadn’t been to since she passed: the side of the road where she’d lost her life and the Little Caesars where I’d often picked her up after her shift and she’d jump into my arms smelling like pizza sauce, cheese, and Maddie. Then I stood out by the lake where she’d approached me for the very first time and actually smiled recalling that first conversation.
For a moment, I considered driving out to the pier, a place I hadn’t revisited in years. Shortly after she passed, I’d gone there a few times, but I’d become so overcome with grief I seriously considered taking my life the last time I was there. If I’d had a gun that day, I have no doubt I would’ve.
Then I remembered the downpour of rain last night. Even the dirt roads that were kept up in and around town were a mess. The only ones who ever kept up the road that led to the pier were my brothers and I, and we hadn’t in years. Even if it hadn’t rained last night, getting through that road would’ve been a challenge, but now it’d likely be impossible.
I left the lake with every intention of just driving through town just one last time before heading home. Twice while in town I felt it again: Madeline’s presence or at least the reality that I was closer to her here in Huntsville than I’d ever be anywhere else. More pressing was the pier. It was calling to me now. Feeling her here in Huntsville made my heart yearn to know what I might feel if I at least got close to the pier.
The sensation that overwhelmed me now was a strange one. My chest felt heavy with
a mixture of emotion: waves of fear, sorrow, and even longing for that unexplainable mist of reminiscence that had sprinkled over and over me since I arrived here. The memories were everywhere here. “There’s no way that road is drivable,” I muttered under my breath even as I turned on the highway in the pier’s direction.
Shaking my head, I gave into the pull. I may as well while I was here. Who knew when I’d be back again? While being here and allowing myself to remember did feel like I was making progress, it was emotionally draining. It’d likely be a while before I could conjure up the courage to do this again.
I took the slow steady drive, my heart pounding away as if it sensed something I still didn’t understand. But I chalked it up to this being the first time in so long that I’d allowed myself to really remember. Since I’d really enjoyed the memories, not drowned in the sorrow of them.
As I approached the pier, that mist of reminiscence—it was the only way to explain it—was stronger than ever. I pulled over on the side of the road just before the turn off to the old road that led to the pier. I’d been right. Even before turning in there, I could see it was nothing but a slush of mud. I wouldn’t get more than a few feet before my bike would be buried in that mire of a road.
To my surprise, it appeared a car had driven in there recently. The muddied tire tracks seemed very recent. Maybe someone else had discovered it and tried driving through it. Couldn’t have been today though. No one would risk doing so today.
Seeing Madeline walk out from around the bushes at the end of the muddied road was like something out of a dream. Once again, I was certain I’d lost my mind. She stood there looking like a beautiful angel sent from God, despite being covered in mud. That’s when clarity hit me. Why would an angel be covered in mud?