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“Why the hell are you sorry?” I asked.
“Because. We’re all dealing with our own shit, right?” she asked. “You don’t need to hear about mine, too. We all deal with our own shit and I need to suck it up and somehow get over it. We all have it bad in our own way.”
“Yeah but, Holly, we all need other people, too,” Jamie said. “Other people to vent to. Other people who you can open up to and connect with. Other people who can tell you that your mother’s boyfriend deserves to be behind bars for touching you.”
“Other people who can tell you that you can go to the cops and turn that fucker in,” I said.
“Very much agreed,” Jamie said. “Besides… don’t ever be sorry for opening up. You can take it from a guy who literally destroyed his life by closing off to the world. There are people you can rely on. Even when it doesn’t seem to be that way.”
“Not in my experience,” Holly said, sadly.
“Want to hear a story?” Jamie stepped over to the sliding glass and took a seat, leaning his back against the door and propping up his knees against his chest. I followed him and slid down on the other side, so I could fit into this little triangular group we’d created.
“What’s the story?” Holly asked, voice breaking.
Jamie clasped his hands in his lap as he spoke. “It’s about a young guy who had a father who, though maybe not quite as abusive as your mom’s boyfriend, used physically persuasive means to keep the young guy from ever showing his emotions. The dad taught his son this lesson so well that when the son met a young woman who he could’ve been happy with… he closed off to her. And everyone else he ever came into contact with.”
“Yeah, but… what about the people who didn’t want to be bothered?” Holly asked.
“That’s just it,” Jamie said, “the young woman he met… she wanted to bebothered.” He used air quotes around the final word. “She would’ve done everything to be bothered by him and his emotions. She loved him deeply, and because of the dark place he was in, he couldn’t see that he loved her just as much.”
“Is the moral of the story to go out and find a nice boy?” Holly asked, smiling slightly. “Because I seriously don’t even have any male friends. I sort of suck when it comes to talking to other people, anyway.”
“No. The moral of the story is to open up to the people who care about you. To the people who matter,” Jamie said.
“But… what if you care about them… and you think they care… and you’re wrong?” Holly asked.
“I’ve never heard a smarter question,” I said before I could stop myself.
“I don’t know,” Jamie said. “You’re right. You’re bound to trust someone who is going to hurt you… to rip you apart… and leave you in a place where you feel like there’s nothing left for you. But. What I do know is that when you find the right person, the perfect person, the one who you can trust in a way you never thought possible… it’ll make all the other pain seem like it was meant to be so that you could end up with that person.”
Holly waited a moment. Crossed her arms over her chest. Then she let out a deep sigh.
“Thanks,” she finally said. But the way she said the words, I already knew she wasn’t buying Jamie’s story. No matter how heartfelt it had been. We all sat in silence as we finished the rest of our pancakes.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Danielle
The register beeped as each item scanned through at the front of the store. Jamie and I snuck around the freezer section in Safeway, him pulling me by the hand, his head turned down as if he worried someone could see him. The minute we’d stepped into the place—stopping in for a few things since Holly had accepted my invitation to spend the night—his eyes had widened, as if he’d been the one to see a ghost, and he ushered me past the registers and near where we now stood, freezing our asses off completely alone in the frozen meals section.
“You know you’re invisible, right?” I whispered so only he’d hear me. “No one’s going to see you in your old store, Jamie.”
He smirked, eyes still focused on the front as if he recognized someone. Or, more specifically, a certain ex who’d once given him a “Dear John” letter so she could hook up with (and marry) the manager of the store.
“I thought Danielle didn’t work here anymore?” I asked.
“Well, she’s back. I guess they rehired her. Fuck.” He pointed a finger toward the register closest to the entrance. A shorter woman with tight curls and a headband scanned a few items across the belt, her uniform sleeves draping over her arms as if she could fit two more people inside of that shirt.
“She can’t see you,” I repeated, tone hushed. “The only person she’s going to see is me.”
“Yeah, well, we didn’t think Holly would be able to see me, either.”
“Okay, fine, but there has to be a reason why Holly can see you, too. A reason that doesn’t include Danielle.”
“I don’t know too much… all they’ve told me is that Holly’s veil is incredibly thin. She’s had a hard life. Still. What if Danielle does see me for some stupid reason?”
A knot formed in my stomach, hearing that Holly’s situation had been that dire that she’d become more connected to the other side. Holly was the reason we’d come here in the first place. We were here in order for her to get a couple of things after we stopped at Walmart to grab an inflatable air mattress. Post-divorce, my place wasn’t the most accommodating for a guest.
