But I wanted him to know that he wasn’t the only one holding on to things like toy trucks. Maybe that was what sad people needed—to know they weren’t the only ones struggling to get by.
“It’s my mom,” I mentioned, nodding in the direction of the closet.
“What do you mean?”
I walked over to the door and waved him over. As I opened it, I pointed inside the space. “It’s my mom. All her things that I love. Her clothes, her favorite candles, her perfume. I sleep in here to feel close to her. This closet is my mom.”
Ash looked into the space, and a small smile landed on his face. “Nice to meet you, Nicole. I really like your daughter.”
My heart skipped a beat or five.
“I sometimes sleep in her clothes,” I confessed. “When I miss her the most.” I didn’t know why I told him that. I hardly told anyone anything about Mom and me.
“This is my brother’s hoodie,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve been washing it too much, and it’s falling apart at the front pocket.” He showed the thread of the pocket coming apart. “I could get another hoodie, but this is the one he left in my bedroom before he passed away. The others are in his bedroom, but Ihaven’t set foot in my brother’s bedroom since he passed. I’m too scared to see him not in there.”
“Maybe going in there will help you.”
“Maybe. I’m just not ready to open that door.”
“Then it’s OK if you keep it shut.”
We were quiet, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It seemed like a good quiet.
“That wasn’t very public of us,” Ash whispered, nudging me in the arm. The slight brush of his skin against mine gave me goose bumps.
“I guess we are officially personal,” I whispered back.
“About damn time,” he playfully teased.
Heat rushed to my cheeks from his mischievous smile and the lightheartedness of his tone.
I cleared my throat and went to the dresser drawer that had all the board games. I used to love game night. Dad used to, too. It was our favorite weekend tradition. Sometimes, he and I would play all on our own while Mom was with Lorelai, since she was too young to play the games that Dad and I found to be entertaining.
“Jenga!” Ash remarked, hurrying over to pick up the game. “I freaking love Jenga.”
I smiled a little.
That was my favorite game, too.
He sat down on the floor and instantly began to build the Jenga stack. I held on to the edge of my bed frame and used it to help me sit down on the floor.
Ouch!
I must’ve made a face of disdain, because Ash raised an eyebrow. “Will you be comfortable down here? We can play at the dining room table.”
“I’m fine,” I lied. There was a sharp pain cruising down myleft leg. It was the most pain I’d felt in quite a while, but I was doing my best to play it off. I didn’t want to be the crippled girl who couldn’t even sit on the floor for five minutes without being on the verge of tears.
Ash scratched at the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m pretty uncomfortable,” he said. “Is it OK if we move to the dining room?”
I sighed, knowing he was just saying that to be nice to me. “Ash, I’m fine...”
He smiled a goofy grin and shrugged as he packed up the Jenga pieces. “Not everything is about you, Karla.” He then stood and held a hand out toward me to help me do the same.
The second my hand fell into his, my breath caught as I was hit with the feeling of butterflies.
That was a weird sensation.
I was so used to feeling sad things that the butterflies almost made me cry.
