“Real funny,” I grumble to no one in particular. It’s just Fate playing another cruel joke on me.
As if my scars aren’t enough, I’m probably destined to watch Devyn’s light shine brightly for the rest of my life. I’ll watch him with a supermodel or top-notch actress on his arm because there is no doubt he will be at the top once again, even if he has to crawl his way there.
Flicking off the television, I decide to call it an early night and head back into my bedroom, praying that Devyn’s scent has finally started to dissipate. Of course, as I settle between the sheets, it seems to have grown stronger. The cotton material scratches against my skin and it leaves me feeling unsettled.
Tossing and turning for an hour, I realize that I won’t be able to drift off in this space, my thoughts are too heavy and Devyn’s presence is too strong.
Grabbing the throw at the end of my bed, I walk back to the living room and lie on the couch, rolling myself up in the blanket like a burrito. It takes a little while, but eventually, my mind floats away into blankness.
Days pass, one after the other, the only change being that of the sky’s coloring. A constant repetition. I hadn’t realized how much I had distanced myself from everyone, from the world, after my accident. But even as I try to make the most of every moment, a piece of me feels like it’s missing.
I haven’t heard anything from Devyn. No more calls, none from him or me, and I assume it’s that either he never received my letter, or didn’t care to respond. He told me that I needed a cell phone or to activate a social media account, but I never needed those things, until now. Until him, and now it’s too late.
Uncle Jeff walks into the diner and settles at the same table as me while I take my break.
“I grabbed your mail while I took a walk to the cemetery.” He slaps a stack of envelopes in front of me and I groan at the bill notices sitting on top. The crisp white one on top with the hospital insignia causes my heartbeat to drop. It’s the fifteenth of the month, which means collection time. After taking a few days off from work and splurging on some new clothes, my bank account is a bit short. Losing the income from the apartment rental the time Devyn was in town was quite a hit to my funds.
Removing the rubber band from around the pile, I tell him, “Looks like the mail lady is hoarding it all for the week and delivering just once again.”
“Seems that way.” He looks down at my nursing book and flags over our new waitress for a water. “Schoolwork in the summer?”
“Yeah, just trying to get ready for next year. It’s going to be a tough one. I didn’t do well on my practice exam the other week.”
“I’m sure you did great.”
As I sort through the mail, three distinctive mounds in front of me, I sneak a look across at Jeff. He looks more alert today, alive. . .happy. And I wonder if the new cook is the reason for that. After Karen moved to town, I had a heart-to-heart with Jeff about being okay with moving on from Susan, that she would want him to be happy. Since then, I haven’t had to pull a grief-filled Jeff off the floor of my apartment hallway or see the sad look in his eyes.
I go through the junk mail, tearing them in half, standing, and tossing them in the trashcan behind the counter. Next, I grab the utility bills and put them in my bag to deal with later. The personal letters get a quick skim of the return addresses, my smile growing at each one.
The final blank envelope has no return address, but my name is written across the front. At first, I think it’s another piece of junk mail I missed, but something prickles in my mind and I slip my finger under the flap.
A printed boarding pass lands on the table and I stare at it like a diamond ring was just handed to me.
“What’s this?” I ask Uncle Jeff, my stare focused on the name of the airline at the top of the paper.
“I don’t know,” he replies. Taking the paper in his hand, he flips it back and forth a few times and then focuses on the location. “Seems like someone wants to see you in Chicago.”
Snatching the paper from his grip, he chuckles as I scan it over and over again. It’s my name. My birthday. My address. Everything about it is correct. I don’t even want to venture into the details of how he was able to find all of that information.
“When does it leave?” Uncle Jeff asks.
“In three weeks. August fourteenth.”
“Mmhmm.”
In shock, I look at the man closest to me, the man that has taken me in as his own. “Do you think I should go?” I whisper. “What do you think I should do? Oh my gosh, I’m freaking out.”
His tanned face gleams at me, the wrinkles far more evident today with his graying dark hair pulled back in a leather tie. Reaching across the table, he slips the boarding pass from my fingers, sets it aside, and then covers my hands with his own.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt, ever, Larsen. None of us do. You’ve been miserable since he left. You hide it well, but I can tell.
“Here is the thing, you miss him. You two didn’t get enough time together. And maybe that was for the best. This could be your chance for closure or it could be your shot at making it work.”
“So, what are you saying?”
Smiling, the wrinkles along his mouth reach all the way to the corners of his eyes, his white teeth shining behind his parted lips. “I’m saying you should use that phone back in the kitchen and confirm your flight.” He claps the top of my hand with his and then points in the direction of the kitchen.
It’s not until I’m home later that night that I tear through the rest of my mail. My bank account is now an empty wasteland after paying the utilities and writing my monthly check to the hospital, except when I open the invoice I’m stunned to find the complete balance paid in full by an anonymous donor.