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I lifted the lid and peeked inside. Pushing notes and cards from side to side, amazed at the volume, I noticed a card I’d received before Christmas two years prior. I instantly recognized the handwriting on the red envelope. The card and the letter inside were the only ones not from Alan.
This was the very last communication I’d received from my very best friend on the planet, Jack. Jack died suddenly just before Christmas two years ago and he’d mailed this to me less than a week before he passed. I hadn’t had the time to respond before Perry’s call informing me of Jack’s passing. My failure to be there for Perry after has haunted me ever since.
Jack always made a smiley face out of the letter O in my name, and the envelope of this last card was no different. I ran a finger across the open flap, nervous to remove the letter and reread the contents. What I didn’t need on this day of overwhelming sadness was another reminder of how alone I was. Besides Alan, Jack had been everything to me.
Naturally, his husband Perry was devastated by the loss back then, but had found love again. I couldn’t say the same for me. I wished I’d been a good friend to Perry after Jack died, but I hadn’t been. I was barely coping with the grief of my breakup, and then add in losing my best friend at nearly the same time, and I was a completely fucked up mess.
And then you add in the news a year later that Perry had managed to find love again and had relocated out of New York, and I was jealous of him. A shitty thing to be to a man who had been madly in love with my best friend and had always treated our friendship with respect and love. He’d deserved better, but time had piled up, and the more time that went by, the less brave I was about reaching out and reconnecting.
Unfortunately, I had added Perry to the pile of friends I’d shut out. One by one, I stopped communicating with them. I lost Alan and then I lost Jack. My only friend now was the misery I kept company with. I floundered in my sorrow and committed to being petty and bitter about what had happened to me. My grief had turned to anger, and I was stuck there. A lonely island of self-pity and bitterness.
Friends gave up trying to help after I ignored their calls and invitations. Shocking, right? Month after month went by, and now, two years later, I had no one. Looking around the vacant kitchen and then down the hallway toward a quiet living room, the bare space was a perfect metaphor for my life. Empty. Empty. Empty.
After I finally stopped dragging my finger across the open flap of the envelope, I removed the letter. I would’ve recognized Jack’s penmanship if I’d had a thousand samples of other people’s cursive writing in front of me. Cursive was a dying style, and Jack took pride in keeping it alive. He was the most amazing person about sending cards or calling. He never missed a birthday or a holiday of any kind, up to and including Groundhog Day when he’d send one every day for a week as a joke. Always the same damn card with the same exact message included. Thankfully, I’d saved this final card and stored it where I kept all the important messages I treasured.
My dearest friend,
I send you this Christmas card with nothing but love for you and our friendship. Because of your pain this season, I need to remind you of how much you mean to me. You are my best friend, and I can never thank you enough for all you do for me and my heart.
There are few people that one can count on day in and day out. Of course, I have Perry, but you are the other person I depend on for support and love. A true and valued friend through thick and thin. You are there for me and I want to be there for you. Especially now.
Please don’t shut me out, Cole. I cannot begin to understand your pain and the sense of loss you must be feeling, especially during the holiday season. You must know that I will be here for you, and we can get you through this together. You do not have to do this alone.
With the new year ahead of you, there will be new opportunities, new and wonderful experiences, and of course, me. I’m here, my friend. I always have been, and I always will be.
Trust me, you’ll get past this and you will love again. You know me, I’ll make sure you do. And never forget, I ALWAYS get my way. Just ask Perry.
As much as I’d miss you, might I suggest a change of scenery? Somewhere new to allow you a fresh beginning with an open heart. Think about it, will you?
All my love in the new year and beyond,
Jack
He didn’t live long enough to provide the support he’d written about. I haven’t managed to find my feet underneath me since. Funny how he’d advised me on a move. I’d forgotten his written words. Every path forward looked like a dead-end, but I had to start living again. Some way, somehow.
I replaced the letter inside the card and held it against my chest, tears streaming down my face. “Thank you, Jack,” I whispered. “You’re right again. It’s time.”
CHAPTER THREE: Chad
My old boss was delighted that I called and asked for a summer job. When I told her I’d finally graduated from college, she suggested a more permanent position rather than working valet. I couldn’t commit to staying in Virginia City but told her I’d be happy to consider another department at summer’s end if I stayed. What I needed now was a job with relatively little responsibility, so I could be a beach bum for the summer. I would try to focus on a future after healing from my breakup with Clint first.
Friday would be my first day back at The Beach Towers Hotel, directly across from the ocean, and just four miles from home. Today was Wednesday, and I desperately needed a surf run on the waves outside. I picked dirty clothes off the floor in the guest house I now occupied, dumped them in a hamper, and headed into the main house. Dad was on the deck. He had his cell phone in one ear but pointed to the chair across from him, holding his finger up to let me know he was nearly finished with the call.
“Sorry, son,” he said, placing his cellphone face down on the glass-top outdoor table after wrapping up his call. “Got a sec?”
“Sure thing, Pops,” I replied. “Wassup? You look serious. What’d I do?”
Dad looked behind him to see where my mother was before speaking. “Mom told me you’re going back to the hotel for the summer,” he began, sounding disappointed. “Maybe it’s time you thought about a career more seriously?”
“Not ready, Dad,” I immediately answered. “We spoke about this last week when I got home, and you promised me some slack.”
“I know, bud, but I have a unique opportunity for you.”
I moved uncomfortably in my chair. My father was a go-getter and was always looking for the next opportunity or cash cow he could take advantage of. I wasn’t cut from his cloth, and I think my lack of drive concerning money was a disappointment to him.
“Go ahead,” I said, leaning back in the chair and focusing my attention on him. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I’ll listen.”
“Well,” he began. “You know how you basically run this house.”
