Pieces of Us

Awarded to the long list by Creative Writing ink, this is Pieces of Us.

“Don’t come back to me in pieces,” I say through a laugh and watch my husband’s motorcycle pull out of the drive.

Had I known those would be my last words to him, I would have chosen more wisely, more lovingly. A mere two hours later, heavy thuds pound against my door—the kind that never hold an old friend behind them. The hinges groan as I open the door and my heart sinks with the officers on my front porch.

“Maryn, there’s been an accident,” one officer says. “Your husband, Caleb, was…”

His words are but a murmur in my ears with the pounding blood now flooding the news away. It can’t be. They must be wrong.

“Ma’am are you alright?” the other officer asks, crouching down to my eye level.

Snapping back into focus, something takes control. A small smile spreads across my lips. “Yes, officers, thank you. I…I just need to be by myself.”

“Do you need us to call anyone for you?” he asks, worry creasing between his brows.

“No,” I answer. “No, I’ll be alright. Thank you for your time.”

I shut the door in their confused and concerned faces. With click of the lock, I rest my forehead against the door and my breath snakes between my lips. Unable to hold me any longer, my knees buckle and send me crumpling into the floor. The momentary shock wears off. Breathless sobs wrack my body, shaking my shoulders, rolling nausea through my twisted stomach, and forbidding air from entering my lungs. A cavernous hole rips into my body where I swear my heart once beat.

My tears burn against my cheeks with every crushing wave. Thoughts call out to me. It has to be someone else. The officers were simply confused. Yes, that must be it. Pushing from the carpet, I brush myself off and open the fridge. Luckily, we have the ingredients for Caleb’s favorite meal. After such a dreadful mistake, I need a laugh over dinner with him.

Onions sting my eyes with every slice of my knife. Warming broth and rosemary curl into my nose, wrapping me in comfort. Our wedding song hums from my lips as I work over the stove. With the last finishing touches, I set the table and look at the clock. He should be home soon. Sneaking a sip before pouring, buttery chardonnay rolls over my tongue. Caleb will be so pleased.

My phone keeps buzzing, but every time I look it’s just my sister. Not the call I’m waiting to get. The clock ticks slow, painful seconds. Seconds turn into minutes, into hours. With every passing moment, the room pales, the food cools, and my stomach turns. The flickering candle flame wisps into smoke along with the sun below the horizon. He’s gone. There was no mistake.

As if commanded by marionette strings, my feet drag up the stairs, every thud sounding as hollow as my chest. I sink into our bed and pray this is just a dream—that I’ll wake up soon and feel his arms around me. My eyes flutter closed, but peace does not find me.

We are back in the driveway. Together. Before he gets on his motorcycle, I scream at him to stop. Without hearing me, he turns the key. My feet tear into the driveway in a mad dash. Hot tears slide down my face carrying the weight of the anger bubbling inside.

“I told you to sell this thing, Caleb!” I scream, beating on his chest with my closed fists. “I told you I wouldn’t be made a widow.”

My shouts are murky and my fists strike slowly, only reinvigorating my anger. I told him—begged him—to acknowledge this would claim his life one day. He always gave me a smile and a promise to be safe.

Lifting his helmet, Caleb presses his lips to my forehead. “I’ll always be with you, Maryn.”

A ragged gasp drags me from my dream. Tears, old and new, coat my face and soak into the sheets. Burying my face in the pillow, I scream until all of the air has left my body. Then another and another until my head spins. My hand reaches to his side, but the cool sheets are all that’s left. Without his weight in the bed, it feels wrong.

Twisting under the covers and yanking them with a grunt, I settle sideways into my bed. My refusing mind won’t let me sleep how we used to, expecting him to reach for me. The truth is, I am angry. I’m furious. This wasn’t supposed to be our story and I can’t count the number of times I tried to change the outcome. My anger battles with guilt—he’s dead and I’m mad at him. What kind of loving wife does that?

Dawn’s pale rays shine into our—my—room and my temples throb with the intrusive light. Dragging myself from bed, the mirror does me no favors. Bloodshot eyes. Splotchy skin. Who cares? I can’t.

A warm breeze rustles my hair as I step into the garden with my coffee. I’ve heard fresh air soothes the soul, but it’s doing nothing for me. My coffee tastes bland even though it’s my favorite. The birdsongs sound grating. I settle into a lawn chair almost hearing Caleb tell me to give it a chance as he so often does—did.

My phone buzzes in my robe pocket. I reach in and click the end button without looking. It doesn’t matter who it is, it’s not the call I want. Memories of our life roll in one by one. Our joys, our lows, our unwavering loyalty to one another. Even so, I would have done things differently. I would’ve taken that trip he kept talking about but I refused because of the cost. I should’ve taken more pictures. His incessant misplaced socks would be endearing instead of frustrating.

My words tangle in my throat behind threatening sobs. “I just want one more day,” I whisper. Time is fickle and we never seem to have enough.

Maybe if I go to the market, the regrets won’t swallow me whole. I don’t need anything except a distraction. I walk to my room and put on whatever mismatched clothes my hands find first. Throwing my hair into a bun and waving off my face in the mirror, I grab my keys. My phone buzzes again. Without looking, I throw it onto the bed and leave the house.

The cart rattles in my hand with its squeaky wheel announcing my presence in every aisle. My body remembers where his favorite snacks are located and I throw them into the cart absentmindedly. Pulling my eyes from the shelves, a gasp forces through my lips and I jerk to a stop. At the end of the aisle, a man clad in a leather jacket and auburn hair reads the back of a package. Every bit of him looks just like Caleb. He turns to my stare with a half-smile and my heart crashes to my stomach. Instead of Caleb’s blue eyes, warm brown irises look back.

A flush creeps up the side of my neck and into my cheeks as I whip my cart to the checkout. One at a time, I load the items onto the belt. I feel the cashier’s gaze flicking from the items to me.

“Cozy night in?” he asks.

Picking at my nails, my eyes focus on my torn cuticles. “Something like that.”

His hands pause over the next item and he sighs gently. “Are you…are you okay? You look upset.”

A tight knot winds in my throat and all I can offer is a nod. Without further questions, he bags my items while I pay.

“Be well, miss,” his tone drenched with empathy.

I don’t know how I made it home. Whether the lights were green or red, I have no idea. Shifting my car into park, I stare at my home. It now feels cold and unfeeling with the knowledge that the life inside has changed forever.

“I just want one more day,” I whisper again.

Finally forcing myself out of the car, I peel the taped note from my front door.

Maryn—

I love you and I’m here for you. Call me back. Please.

Always,

            Olivia

My sister means well, but I can’t ask her to step into my mess. I’ll apologize to her later. She has an entire family to look after and I wouldn’t even know how to ask her for help. I barely know what I need right now.

I settle sideways into my bed, tucking pillows around me and pulling the covers tight. Scream. Bargain. Cry. Repeat. The only demarcation of time exists in the light and shadows on the wall. My bed sags underneath my unmoving body save for the few times I get up to tend to my humanity. None of this is fair.

“Maryn!” my sister’s voice shouts into the house.

The door slams behind her and rushing steps thunder against my stairs. Olivia’s shadow moves along the wall, but I can’t bring myself to look at her. One at a time, the pillows nestled around me fly off the bed and my sister takes their place. Her hand brushes against my hair before rubbing soothing circles on my back just like mom used to do.

“I’m so sorry, Mare,” she says through a wobbling timbre.

My eyes remain, trained and unblinking, on the wall that’s kept me company for days. Thoughts evade me in the blank landscape of my mind. There is nothing except hollow understanding.

Somewhere along the way, sleep claims me but I don’t see Caleb in my dreams. Instead, a drying ocean with tides pulled beyond the horizon visits me. The sea floor cracks deeper and deeper as it dries under an unrelenting sun. Much like my heart.

“Up,” Olivia demands.

“No,” my voice cracking through my whisper.

“You stink and you need food. Up. Now,” she insists.

Bacon and pancakes waft into my room behind her. Of course. My ever-loving sister has to take care of one more person. Tears well in my eyes with her selflessness and somewhat frustrating insistence. Olivia disappears into the bathroom and running water follows soon after.

Without judgement, she helps me into the shower and sets out a fresh towel. She returns moments later with a handful of clothes and neatly folds them next to care items, reminding me to brush my teeth and hair. My stiff muscles protest as I wash away shampoo and conditioner. Tears mix into the water until I am unsure which is which—an oddly comforting feeling.

The handle squeaks in my hand and the water cuts off. With fumbling, slow motions, I dry off and make myself presentable for life. My unsteady feet shake with every step onto the stairs and into the kitchen. How many days has it been? I’ve lost track.

“Sit. Eat,” Olivia says, nodding to the set table.

My favorite breakfast tastes like ash in my mouth with every forceful shove of nutrients into my body. I try to wash it down with coffee, but my throat protests. Olivia’s eyes narrow and I know that look. I’m not leaving the table until my plate is cleared. She sits with me in silence for the full hour it takes until I’ve finished my food.

“Thank you,” I say, rising from the table.

She takes my dishes from my hands, rinsing and loading them into the washer. Her hand clasps around mine and she leads me to her car. A heavy sigh presses my chest, but I know there is no use arguing with my stubborn sister. With the turn of her key, we back out of the drive.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I’m not taking you anywhere. I’m getting you back,” she says with no further explanation.

Trees blur in the window with every familiar turn in the road. There’s not much out this way except the trails Caleb and I used to hike. I rest my forehead against the window and close my eyes. Memories of his excited rambling about the forest’s bugs and plants fill my ears.

“You can always tell which ones you can pick up,” he says as a caterpillar crawls across his hands. “This one is okay, but you see that fuzzy one over there? That’ll put you in the hospital. It’s their natural defense against predators.”

My head rocks back with the parked car. Taking a deep breath, I unfasten my seat belt and push the door open. At least it’s a pretty day—not too warm, not too cold. Olivia grabs a backpack and tosses in water bottles. I internally groan at her preparation. She doesn’t intend for this to be a short trip. Tightening the straps, she waves for me to follow her.

We walk along the trail with no pressure to speak. I’ve always enjoyed the comfortable silences I can share with her. Caleb and my favorite spots come and go as we walk further into the woods. With a sharp turn to the right, we take the lake trail. Every so often, Olivia leans to collect a rock, placing it in the backpack with no explanation. She’s always liked odd things so I can’t be bothered to ask.

Her pack sags with the rocky weight by the time the trail widens. Birdsongs echo into the open space as they chase each other through the sky. The dark blue lake laps at the shoreline, creating a siren song for peace. Over there, on the small cape, Caleb told me he loved me for the first time. My heart weighs with all of my love and no one to give it to.

The thud of Olivia’s pack to the shore reclaims my attention. She rips the zipper open and the collected rocks spill onto the sand. With one hand, she points to me and then the rocks.

“Do whatever you need to do, but we aren’t leaving until I get you back,” she says.

“What…what do you mean?” I ask, my brows knitting together.

“Throw them,” she says. “Throw them into the water with everything you are holding in.”

Feeling silly, but not in a mood to argue, I pick up a rock. I turn it over in my hands a few times and hurl it towards the lake, freeing a wisp of something inside of me. It sinks with a satisfying plunk. Reaching for another, my shoulder pops with the effort of my throw. Something comes undone within me with every launch into the water. My screams ripple across the surface untethered and pained. My tears carve into my face and line my shirt. All of the dark, messy things come to light through my shouts.

Grief spills out of me in the way it came—feral and unexpected. I’ve kept every bit of my anger and sadness and downright desperation locked in a box within my mind. I couldn’t move past it, but I couldn’t open it either. Until now.

With the last stone cast into the lake, my knees buckle. The sand bites into my skin as I collapse onto the shore. I have nothing left to give between my heaving gasps. Olivia runs to my side, spraying sand as she drops to the ground.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me. “I am always here for you. The good. The bad. Everything.”

A warm, gentle breeze rustles my hair. Picking my head up from my lap, I take the first deep breath I’ve had in days. Rays of sun peek through the clouds, illuminating a column of air. The patch of water where the rocks carried my heaviness glimmers under the sunlight.

With closed eyes, I murmur, “I miss you and I’ll always love you.” Light radiates behind my lids and warmth floods my face.

Another breeze wraps around me, almost as if mirroring my sentiment from the afterlife. Peace finds my soul and courage finds my heart. I have to be okay, and I will be with time. Standing on shaky legs, I pull out my phone and press return call.

Olivia’s face pinches as she looks to her illuminated screen. “Hello?” she answers, keeping her eyes locked with mine.

“Thank you.”