Fifteen
Ashes
Sharleen and Ivy were sitting on the living room floor working on costumes for the show. Nearby, the decorated Christmas tree twinkled and blinked as though saying hello. A fire crackled in the fireplace. From the kitchen, delicious aromas floated in the air.
Jake was busy cooking an elaborate dinner. Earlier in the day, he’d texted Sharleen and invited her over for a home-cooked meal, a mini feast for the evening including his specialty, beef stroganoff, along with steamed asparagus, garlic mashed potatoes, and a bottle of wine for the adults, and apple juice for Ivy.
The invitation had been too irresistible to turn down.
It had been a few days since they were able to spend time together. Jake explained he’d been busy with a new project as a contractor. Sharleen was dealing with an equally full schedule: preparing her students for the show, studying for final exams, and trying to decide what she was going to do with the three boxes of porcelain cows now gracing the middle of her apartment.
When Jake appeared in the entryway of the living room looking somewhat flustered, Sharleen lifted her eyes from a complicated stitch. “Everything smells so good. I picked the right house to have dinner at tonight.”
“My dad is a very good cook,” Ivy boasted.
Jake grinned. “Dinner will be served shortly, my ladies.” He turned to his daughter. “Ivy, can you set the table?”
Ivy jumped up and started working on the assigned task. In the process, she picked up Sharleen’s heavy backpack, dropping it. The bag hit the hardwood floor in the dining room with a hefty bang. Out of the backpack rolled an object, spinning across the floor in what looked like slow motion when it collided with the edge of Jake’s shoe, stopping. He stared at it, and a flash of realization covered his curious face.
Sharleen felt her cheeks singe with embarrassment. It was a moment of truth she wasn’t prepared for.
Ivy was intrigued, but also looked fearful. “What is that?” she asked.
Jake looked at her and said in a calm voice, “Ivy, can you go to your room for a few minutes? I’ll call you when we’re ready to eat.”
Ivy complied and left the room, disappearing down the hallway and into her bedroom. She closed the door. A few seconds later, the faint sounds of Jingle Bells could be heard in the near distance.
Sharleen stood, reached down and picked up the urn. She shoved it into her backpack, next to its identical deep burgundy and gold twin.
Jake looked at Sharleen for an explanation, but she remained silent, avoiding his gaze. Finally, his words cut through the stillness and silence, bringing the moment of aftermath to a necessary end. “You carry those around with you everywhere you go?”
Sharleen nodded, a strained and uneasy movement at that moment. “Yes.”
“Are they your parents’ ashes?”
“Yes,” she said. “They were both cremated … not by choice. Their bodies were so damaged in the fire there was almost nothing left of them. I’m not really sure how much of these are actually their ashes. They gave these to me to make me feel better, I think.”
“And do you?”
“No,” she said with honesty. “Jake, seven years have gone by and the pain hasn’t gotten any easier. Having them with me wherever I go … I know it doesn’t make sense … but it makes life more bearable.”
She shut her eyes for a moment but opened them when he placed gentle hands on her shoulders.
“I understand how difficult it is to let go.”
She looked up into his dark eyes. “I know you do.”
“I used to go to the cemetery every day,” he explained. “The first year. Like clockwork. I was up at the crack of dawn every morning. I even had the sprinkler schedule at the cemetery memorized by heart. The grounds crew knew me there by name. It was very important for me to show up each morning and talk to Penny. For her to know I was there. I felt like I had something to prove.” He stopped for a moment and Sharleen wondered if he was struggling not to cry. “But as time went by and life went on, I stopped going as much. Now we go a couple of times a year. But it doesn’t mean I love or miss Penny any less. And it doesn’t mean the pain isn’t still there.”
“I want it to get easier,” she said. “I really do.”
“There’s no time limit on sadness, Sharleen. There’s no magical day or number in which everything suddenly feels normal again.”
“I think why it’s hard for me to let go is because they were all I had,” she said. “That night is something I can never forget. It feels like it all happened yesterday. It was a Thursday night and I was out with my friend Ruby. I was seventeen. We were both graduating from high school in a couple of weeks, so we decided to stay out late and break our curfews, knowing there would be hell to pay. I remember thinking to myself that I’d made it through high school without getting into trouble once, unlike Ruby who was permanently grounded for something she did or didn’t do.
When Ruby and I pulled up to my house, I saw the fire trucks and the crowd and the flames and I knew … I knew in that second my parents were gone and that nothing would ever be the same again.” Sharleen stopped and took a breath, fighting the urge to fall apart in Jake’s dining room. “And I was right. Because of faulty wiring in an old house and a dead battery in a smoke alarm, I became an orphan instantly. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“Because it’s not,” Jake offered. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through since then.”
Sharleen reached for his hands and held them. “And now my grandmother is gone, too. I went to her funeral last week and five people showed up, Jake. That’s it. A life spanning more than seventy years and only five people were there to show their respects. It broke my heart. She deserved so much more.”
“I’m so sorry. I would’ve gone,” he said. “I would’ve gone with you.”
“It’s my fault because I didn’t ask.”
He gave her a look. “And why didn’t you? Ask, I mean.”
“Because I’ve never felt so alone,” she explained. “This grief is mine. It’s not fair for me to make you suffer through it, too.”
“But you’re not alone, Sharleen.”
“That’s very sweet of you to say…”
“It’s the truth.” His tone had become firmer. “Ever since we met, we’ve both been doing the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” she asked.
“Resisting,” he answered. “You and I are both sad people. We’ve experienced a greater sense of sorrow than a lot of people we know. But we can’t let that grief stand in the way of happiness … we can’t be defined by what we’ve lost. If we do, you and me … we’ll never get the chance we deserve.”
“I want that,” she said. “I want that more than anything. For the grief to lessen … and for you and me to just go for it and give it a shot … no matter how crazy that might sound.”
He walked her to the dining table and gestured to an empty chair. She sat. He kneeled, took her hand in his, and stared deeply into her eyes. “Listen, I know it’s not the same thing … but me and Ivy … we’d love to be your family now.”
Sharleen sniffled. “I don’t want to cry in front of you.”
Jake cracked a grin. “Would it help if I go first?”
She gave him a strange look. “You want to cry together?”
“Yes,” he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I want us to do everything together.” He kissed her cheek, lips gentle and warm on her skin. “Including letting go.”
“I’m scared to, Jake,” she admitted. “I don’t want to forget them. Ever.”
“I believe I know you well enough to say … you won’t let that happen. But just because people we love are gone … that doesn’t mean we should stop living.”
She touched the side of his face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry about the urns. I know it’s weird and creepy and strange.”
He let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, just a little.” Jake stood. “But I get it.”
Sharleen looked up at him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you taste my cooking. Then you’ll really be thankful.”
“I’m starving.”
Right on cue, her stomach rumbled. They laughed.
“I’ll go tell Ivy the coast is clear,” he said. “Then the three of us can share our first family dinner together.”
Sharleen nodded. “That sounds perfect.”