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“Lucy? We’re talking about Kendall here, Doc.”
“The two are very much intertwined. In our previous sessions, you admitted you felt like Lucy took the easy way out with her suicide. That is a common misconception of the loved ones left behind. But the truth of the matter is that people who commit suicide believe there is no other choice. Depression is a disease, not unlike asthma, measles or the Plague. If left untreated, they all get worse, and eventually the disease takes the life.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Okay. But I don’t understand what this all has to do with Kendall.”
“You’ve had two special women in your life. Lucy, who you perceive left you when things got tough. And Kendall, who did the same. You’re afraid of it happening again.”
I wasn’t sure she was right, but I felt drained and wanted the conversation to move on. “So bottom line, I need to make a decision on whether I can trust Kendall again, or I’m never going to sleep?”
Dr. Lemmon chuckled. “I can pr
escribe you something to help you sleep at night in the short term. But other than that…shit or get off the pot.”
Shit or get off the pot? I was paying two hundred and fifty dollars an hour for advice my father gave me in third grade.
I WAS AFRAID TO TAKE the sleeping pills. Even though I’d filled the prescription, the warning label had cautioned against driving heavy machinery for twenty-four hours after taking the medicine. I’d say my Boeing 747 qualified as pretty heavy machinery, and since I had a flight tomorrow afternoon, I needed to find other ways to wear myself out to get some sleep.
After running five miles around the outskirts of my development, I decided to stop in and check on Gordon again. Unfortunately, the visit had only made me feel worse. I wasn’t an expert by any means, but he seemed to be deteriorating a little more each day. His ankles were constantly filled with fluid, and tonight he had trouble wiggling his toes on one foot. Even though it was after hours, I’d called his doctor to give him an update. He’d basically told me that I should just try to make sure he was comfortable, that there wasn’t too much more they could do for a man of Gordon’s age and health.
It was late by the time I arrived back at my apartment. Feeling an intense sadness over how things were progressing with Gordon, I wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone and call Kendall. Other than Dr. Lemmon, she was the only person I’d ever really opened up to in my life. I knew she’d understand how I felt. But that wasn’t fair to do to her. I needed to figure out if I can see a future for us before unloading my depressing shit on her.
The fucked up thing was, I didn’t know how to see a future for us. Yet I couldn’t see a future for me without her. I was stuck in purgatory. Story of my life.
At midnight, I decided to pack my bag for my flight the next morning. Muriel had washed and starched all of my uniforms, even though I’d told her it wasn’t necessary a million times. What I loved about the people here at Silver Shores was that they knew they needed help at times, yet they never wanted to take it for free. It made them feel good to barter things I could use in return. They were good people.
My closet was filled with crisply pressed shirts. I grabbed three and folded them into my bag. I’d lost a little weight over the last few months, so I pushed my size extra large jackets to the side and reached farther into the closet to fish out a size large that was stashed in the back.
The hanger I’d grabbed had a smaller jacket on it alright. Only it was about forty sizes too small. In my hand was the little pilot uniform that I’d found in Kendall’s closet when I’d went looking for clues in her bedroom. I’d tucked it under my shirt and taken it with me for some reason that day. After I arrived back home, it made me angry to see it every day, so eventually I pushed it in the back where I couldn’t see it. Yet I never got rid of it.
I stared at the little uniform for a long time. Visions of a little tow-haired boy wearing it as he ran circles around his mother while laughing were clear as day. The boy had bright blue eyes just like his mother. And Kendall looked more beautiful than ever. I actually closed my eyes and smiled watching the scene play out in my head.
That night, I slept like a baby. I dreamt of that little boy and his mother. It was so vivid, so real, that I was confused when I woke up. For a moment I expected them to come running into my bedroom.
But they didn’t.
Which caused a gnawing ache in my chest.
And that was all on me.
As I rushed to get ready for my flight, the little pilot’s suit was still laying on top of my dresser. I rubbed my finger over the little wings on the lapel and remembered the face of the little boy from my dream. Unpinning the little wings from the child’s jacket, I swapped it with the wings on my own uniform. They weren’t that different in appearance, yet they’d made all the difference to me.
I could see my future.
I could see my family.
I could see the woman I loved.
Now I just needed to figure out how to make things right again.
I DECIDED TO QUICKLY check on Gordon before leaving for the airport, since it would be a few days before I would be back home again.
One of the women usually came by his house late in the morning and stayed until a physical therapist showed up, but no one was likely there yet.
Knowing he could be sleeping, I was careful to open the door slowly.
“Dad?” I called out in a low voice.
There was no answer. Gordon was always a heavy snorer, so it was odd that no noise was coming from the bedroom.
