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“My daughter won’t be back for another two months. The job starts in August.”
“Perfect! That gives me plenty of time to turn our space into a dream classroom. I can get started right away.” Although calmly stated, I could see the excitement in her eyes.
I wasn’t sure if she wasn’t hearing me clearly or she didn’t give a fuck about what I was saying. Though she was making sense, I wasn’t ready for her to be in my space just yet. I needed time to settle my thoughts and get my shit together. But for the life of me, I couldn’t tell her that. So, we remained on the porch, both glaring at each other until she spoke again.
“Where will I be staying?”
Briefly, my eyes left her to follow the trail that led to the suite that was nearly a half mile up the way. It rested underneath a group of trees that kept it shaded on the hot, summer days with temperatures that hit the low one hundreds in Berkeley.
“It’s not ready.”
“I have nothing but time on my hands. I’d like to make it my own if you don’t mind.”
With a shrug, I shook my head.
“Is there electricity?”
I nodded.
“Good. Then that’s all I need for now.”
Her skin was smooth like a newborn’s bottom. Her hair flowed with the slight breeze the crisp air provided us with. Guilt gripped at my bearings, choking the life out of me. Since I’d laid eyes on Anna, there hadn’t been a woman in this world to garner my interest. Not until the one before me.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She smiled, showing her perfectly white smile and envious set of straight teeth.
“The code to enter is 7551. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. My daughter will be in front of your door at 7:30 a.m. sharp, August 1st.”
This time, I promised to stay true to my word. When I tore my eyes from her frame, I reinstated my vow and pulled the door open. The quicker I was out of her hair, the better off I’d be.
“I-I’m sorry for your loss,” she shouted as I entered my home.
Taking a step backward, I turned to face her. Each time, I regretted it a little more.
“What did you say?”
“I-I-I said I’m sorry for your loss,” she repeated, softening as each word left her mouth.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” I lied, hating myself for doing so, but her accuracy was blinding.
“Your eyes,” she explained. “The pain that resides in your eyes can only be displayed by a man who has suffered a great loss—one that has altered his heart, mind, body, and soul. And I’m sorry.”
With that, she turned, pulling her luggage and making her way toward the suite I’d offered as part of compensation for Aussie’s caretaking. Her words left me dumbfounded, stuck, and unable to move. It wasn’t until she’d reached the suite and entered that I was able to regain mobility and cross the threshold of my front door. Upon entry, I felt my knees weaken and my heart expand for the first time since finding my wife on the floor of our bedroom, lifeless and soaked in her own blood.
Mobility failed me,deeming me motionless for far too long. The aching of my heart was far from mental. I could feel it break again and again and again. This time was no different. If I had to bet my last dollar, I was certain that anything in the world felt better than this.
My fists clinched beside me, serving as evidence to my progression in the hours to follow. The numbness that I desired simply showed no interest in meeting me halfway. Holding onto the wall, I pulled myself to my feet and stood upright. Though I’d done so a million times, putting one foot forward was almost impossible. A bit of ease accompanied the second and third ones. Eventually, I gained my stride.
In the discomfort of my home and the privacy of my office, I pinned the image on the wall where it belonged. For three hours, we’d camped out on the solid wood, near the door. I patted both eyes with the bottom of my shirt, relieving the stinging and clearing the blurriness.
My skin was moist from the secretions of my pores. Stickiness taunted me, forcing me in the direction of my bathroom. It was one of the many projects I’d finished within the first six months of moving into the home. From heated floors to marbled shower tiles, I’d worked my fingers to the bone on the renovation and couldn’t be more satisfied with the outcome.
I adjusted the temperature of the water from the dial outside of the shower. It poured from the overhead, enticing me in more ways than I appreciated. Inside the four corners of the shower was my sanctuary, the place I felt safest and centered.
It was where I gathered my bearings and pieced myself back together after falling apart each and every day. There was no denying the mess I became daily, but the cleansing of my body moved far beyond the surface and gave me a fresh start as many times as I needed. The day had hardly begun and I was already desperate for a do-over.
The water fell from the showerhead above me as I stepped inside. Naked from head to toe, I allowed it to beat down on the agony and affliction the day had caused me thus far. The heaviness lingered, unprovoked by the thick beads of hope that doused my entire body.
Closing my eyes, I prayed to see my dear Anna. I sighed at the sight of her, relieved to see her smiling face. Her energy was infectious. My lips curled upward.
