With her feet bare, she traipsed down the concrete drive. Heat beat down on her and reminded Liz that summer had only barely ended, and fall was not quite in its glory yet. Her wavy, brown hair fell in unbrushed tangles around her shoulders. Pulling the mail out of the box, she made her way back up the driveway. She squinted against the bright reflection of the sun on the white envelopes she held in her hand. She sorted three cards addressed to Colby to the back of the pile, and then looked more closely at the mail addressed to her or Josh. Nothing but a few bills and an advertisement.
The front door creaked as she opened it and slipped inside, closing the door with a shove. The pictures on the wall in the foyer rattled and Liz turned her head to the left. Her gaze landed on a large photograph of Colby as a toddler— his bright blue eyes stared back at her. She leaned back against the door and slid to the floor. The mail tilted forward on her fingertips and then splayed around her on the floor.
“Josh,” she forced out, but her voice was weak.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, first just one, and then another, but more followed.
“Josh,” she mustered with more volume.
He came around the corner with a tuna sandwich in his hand. Mayonnaise dotted the left side of his upper lip.
“What’s wrong honey?”
He offered her his hand, but she shook her head. She lifted her wobbling hand and pointed at the wall of pictures.
“Take it down, Josh. Please.”
He lowered himself to the floor on her right side. He looked up at the pictures and then over at his wife.
“We already talked about this, love. We are keeping the pictures up, to help us remember our son, to help us remember all of the wonderful things we shared with him.”
He took another bite of his sandwich and dabbed at the corners of his mouth with the napkin he held curled up under the sandwich.
“It’s too much though. It reminds me of everything we’ve lost. Every time I come in the door, there is his beautiful, smiling face. He looks so happy and I just—” She started coughing from sobbing.
“That’s how I want to see him, every single day. Happy. These pictures help me do that. Besides, taking them down would be just like trying to forget him, trying to erase him. You cannot erase my son,” Josh said.
“Erase him?” Liz’s voice quivered.
“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do? Forget everything so you don’t have to think about the bad?”
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to do,” Liz said.
“Then what are you trying to do?”
“I just want him back,” she whispered.
“Of course. We both do, but that isn’t going to happen. The next best things are the pictures that remind us of the best times.”
He reached over to her, took her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. Jerking her hand away from him, she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her arms around them. Her head rested against her knees. Her body shook with each gasped breath and deep cry. Josh took another bite of his sandwich and reached for her back, rubbing his hand in a small circle.
“We’re going to get through this, love. One day at a time.”
Although her sobs were giving way to a softer cry, rage bubbled under the surface. Every time Josh told her they would get through this, or it would be okay, or they should keep Colby’s coat on the rack by the door, she wanted to scream. None of the constant reminders were helping her handle the death of their son. She needed a break from seeing it all. It’s not like Josh could possibly understand. He wasn’t the one to find Colby’s lifeless body on that dreary Tuesday evening.
Heavy steps across the den brought Josh’s attention upward just as Tyler popped his head around the corner. Puffing quick breaths, he asked, “Is everything okay? I could hear Mom crying.”
Josh gave Liz a sure everything is fine smile. “Yeah, bud. All good.”
Tyler shuffled around the corner and started picking up the mail. He glanced at Liz, who was just lifting her head from her knees, her puffy eyes and the tears on her cheeks made him slow down. He lowered himself to the tile and he sat cross-legged on the floor beside his mom, opposite of his dad.
“You okay, Momma?”
I would be more okay if the world would stop asking me if I’m okay! Liz shouted in her mind. She willed her shoulders to lift in a half-hearted shrug and nodded her head slightly. She leaned back against the door and held her breath. I need to be strong for Tyler, she told herself.
Tyler flicked through the mail, wondering aloud, “Why do people keep sending cards in Colby’s name? Why not your name or dad’s, or even mine? We’re the recipients after all.”
Josh chuckled and reached his hand out for the stack of mail, but Tyler didn’t notice. Tyler pried open a dark blue envelope with silver writing, addressed to Colby. He slid the card out, examining the picture of mountains on the front of it.
“Dear Colby, I’m so sorry for all that you’ve been through. Just know, our family is praying for you. Love, The Smiths,” Tyler read aloud. “Who are the Smiths?” he asked, looking first at his dad, then at his mom.
“I don’t know,” Josh said.
Tyler shoved the card back in the envelope.
“I don’t know either, Tyler. Why don’t you put your brother’s mail on his desk?” Liz suggested.
“Why are you saving cards from people we don’t know? Cards that are written to my brother who is dead. Did they not get all the information? Do they think he’s still alive or something?” Tyler heaved himself up off the floor and dusted his shorts off with his hand, then he offered his hand to his mom.
“I want the cards left in his room,” Josh said, “Put them in there. And don’t mess with anything. Leave his stuff alone.”
Liz took Tyler’s hand and he helped her to her feet. At the same time, he rolled his eyes at Josh and said, “Okay, okay. Geez.”
Liz rubbed her heavy, dry eyes and looked at her ringing phone. For the third time in two days, an unfamiliar number rang Liz’s phone. She propped herself up on one arm and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I’m sorry to bother you. I have you down as an alternate contact for Colby Miller. I haven’t been able to reach him. Do you know how I could get in touch with him?” The voice on the other end of the line was female, friendly, and speaking fast. Liz wondered if this was just some cruel joke.
“Who are you?” Liz asked.
“I’m sorry. I should have started with my name. I’m Christy Smitler. I own a barn just outside the city limits and Colby boards his horse here. I’ve been feeding her for the last week, which is fine, really. I’m more worried than anything. He was out here every day with her.”
“A horse? Colby didn’t have a horse.” Liz shook her head and sat up. Her greasy, wavy hair stuck out in every direction.
“He’s only had her for a few months, but I assure you, he does have a horse. Do you know how I can reach him?” Christy asked.
“No. You can’t reach him. Colby’s not here.” Tears welled in Liz’s eyes again.
“Okay, will he be there later? Can I leave him a message?”
“No! He’s never going to be back! He’s dead! Colby is dead. Why don’t you know that? Why didn’t anybody tell you?” Liz shouted into the telephone, but as her voice cracked over the last word, the sobbing began again. She spent the first week numb to the world, to everything going on around her. No tears, no rage. Just quiet disbelief and silence in her thoughts made her feel crazy. The funeral broke open the floodgates and the reality that her son was gone and after the funeral, the silence in her thoughts turned to chaos, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and the rage was consuming.
“I…I’m so sorry,” Christy stammered. “I had no idea. I don’t know any of his friends. He never brought anyone with him. Are you his…his mom?”
“Yeah, I was,” Liz whispered, wiping tears from her eyes and pushing herself off the bed.
“You’re still his mom,” Christy said gently. “I’m sorry to hear about his death and I’m sorry you are going through this.”
One heavy foot in front of the other, Liz made her way to the bedroom door, creaked it open, and then trudged down the hallway, telling Christy as she went, “If my husband is home you can talk to him about this.”
“I’m home, what’s up?” Josh called from the kitchen.
Liz stuck her arm out, phone in hand. She dropped the device in his hand as soon as he reached out, and she turned to go back to the bedroom.
Josh covered the microphone with his hand, “Wait, Liz. I almost have dinner ready. Stay out here and eat with me.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said, without looking in his direction.
“Hang on one second,” he said into the phone and set it down. He jogged to catch up with Liz, who was almost back to their bedroom. He gently caught her by the arm, pulling her to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her as she bunched up his shirt in her hands and clung to him, leaning heavily against him.
“I just want Colby back,” she whispered.
“Me too, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “You don’t have to eat, but come sit with me. Just ten minutes, please?”
“Ten minutes, and then I’m going back to bed.”
He led her to the table, which was situated just off the kitchen, right next to a large bay window. In years past, this was where they would share coffee in the wee hours before the boys were awake. They balanced the checkbook at this table, wrote the grocery lists and meal plans, and did homework. So many memories were shared at that table, under that window. Josh pulled her chair out for her. Once she was seated, he grabbed the phone off the counter and then went into the living room for Liz’s favorite throw blanket.
“Hi, this is Josh, can I help you?”
“Hi Josh. My name is Christy. I’m so sorry to hear about Colby. He was such a nice young man.”
Josh returned to Liz’s side, draping the blanket over her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.
“Yes, he was. We are incredibly proud of who our son grew up to be. Did I hear my wife mention something about a horse?”
“Yeah. Colby has a mare. She’s here at my place. I thought I would just be tracking Colby down to make sure he was okay and discuss full-care boarding. I wasn’t prepared to hear he passed.” Christy’s voice came to a choking halt, as tears spilled from her eyes on the other end of the line.
“No one was expecting this,” Josh admitted. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder, bringing noodles, sauce, and garlic bread to the table. He got a plate for both Liz and himself, along with forks, and two glasses of water.
“Wine?” He leaned his head away from the phone and stared intently at his wife. She shook her head no.
“Christy, right?”
“Yes.”
“We want to come meet this horse of Colby’s. Would tomorrow be alright?”
Liz started shaking her head no, telling Josh, “I don’t want to go anywhere tomorrow.”
He placed his hand on her arm.
“Tomorrow is fine. Do you need the address?” Christy replied.
“Can you text it to this phone number?”
“Of course. Have a good…” Christy cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s not a good evening for your family right now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Josh situated his food in front of the chair next to his wife. While normally he sat across from her, this was not the right time to look across the table at her. He knew he should be next to her. He put his arm around her, and she slumped into him.
“I’m not ready Josh,” she whispered as she tilted her chin up and peeked at him.
“Ready for what, my love?”
“To go on like nothing happened.”
“We aren’t Liz. We aren’t going on like nothing happened. We do need to figure out what we are doing with Colby’s horse. I didn’t know he had a horse, did you?”
“No, don’t you think that’s something I would have told you about?”
“Well, I mean, unless he mentioned it in passing and you didn’t think much of it.”
“A whole horse, Josh? And I wouldn’t have thought much of it?”
“Good point.”
“Eat, Josh.”
“He was a grown man,” Josh mused. “He wasn’t required to tell us everything.”
“I didn’t even know he liked horses,” Liz commented.
“Neither did I. What else didn’t we know about him, Liz?”
“I didn’t know he was so depressed,” she spoke softly, tears welling in her eyes once more.
“I knew he was depressed. In fact, I told him to shake it off and figure out what he wanted in life.” Josh hung his head in guilt at this admission. Silence overtook the room and in the absence of words, Josh began filling both plates with angel hair pasta, spaghetti sauce, and garlic bread. He set one plate in front of Liz, and the other in front of himself.
Josh bowed his head and folding his hands in his lap, he prayed quietly, “Dear God, thank you for this day. Thank you for this food. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
“Are you mad at Him?” Liz asked.
“Who?” Josh raised his eyebrow and turned his head to look at Liz. “Colby or God?”
“God,” Liz whispered.
Liz sat in the chair in front of the oak desk located in the bedroom she and Josh had shared for almost thirty years. Josh stood behind her, gently brushing her wet hair.
“Did that shower make you feel better?” he asked.
It took every ounce of self-control within her to not unleash her fury on him when he asked questions about whether or not a bite of food, a shower, brushing her teeth, walking to the mailbox, or a million other small tasks made her feel better. She wondered if he really thought grief was as easy to overcome as taking a hot shower and washing one’s hair. Even if he did think it was that simple, unleashing on him would be cruel. He’d lost just as much as she, and they’d had a good life together. She took a deep breath and let her eyes close.
“Have you ever been around a horse?” he asked.
She shook her head but didn’t open her eyes. He ran the brush gently over her scalp and down the length of her hair. The anger over his question about the shower slowly dissipated. His presence and tender care of her was comforting, even if only in the smallest amount. He separated her hair into three equal sections and worked it into a neat, tight braid. He banded it at the bottom and then stooped over, kissing her cheek and squeezing her shoulders.
“We should get going, love,” he spoke softly, and pulled the chair back from the desk.
Liz pushed herself out of the chair, onto her feet and smoothed her palms over the front of her jeans. Jeans that hadn’t been worn since the day before the funeral. She paused, trying to collect her thoughts, trying to will herself to face this. Josh gently put his arm around her and guided her toward the front door. Her body trembled and goosebumps pricked up along her arms, as though a deep chill overcame her. Josh snatched a throw from the back of the couch, but she waved him off. He tucked the throw under his arm and brought it along anyway.
“We’ll just go make arrangements for the horse, and then we will come straight home, okay?” he said.
Bright sunlight and heat washed over her from head to toe. The calendar may have officially hailed in autumn a few days prior, but summer wasn’t ready to let go. She squinted her eyes against the brightness and shielded her face with her hand. Josh encircled her waist with his arm once more and gently led her out the door. He pulled it shut and locked it behind them, then he guided her toward the car in the driveway. She slumped into the passenger seat and drug the seatbelt across the front of her body, moving slowly as if it weighed a hundred pounds. Josh shut her door and circled around to the driver’s side of the car.
When he started the car, Air1 hummed to life in the middle of a worship song. Half a block from the house, Liz reached up and pressed the power button with surprising force.
“I’m not mad at God,” Josh started. He hesitated, then continued, “You asked me yesterday if I was mad at God or Colby. I never answered you. I’m not mad at God. I’m a little bit mad at Colby.”
“How can you say that? How can you be mad at Colby? He was struggling and alone and we missed it. Are you seriously mad at him?”
“I’m not furious with him. But I am a little mad that he didn’t think he should call us. Liz, we’ve never been absent parents, we’ve provided a good life, and been available to the boys.”
“I’ve never been absent,” she mumbled.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that for twenty-one years I’ve been up all hours of the day and night kissing boo-boos, making meals, checking homework, packing lunches, attending PTA meetings, and being present. I don’t think being so glued to your work that you weren’t around for hardly anything counts as being a present parent.”
“How were we supposed to live if I didn’t go to work?”
“You didn’t just go to work. Work has been your life; forget the rest of us.”
“That’s not even fair.”
“Isn’t it, though? It’s hard to hear the truth, isn’t it Josh?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel and his knuckles turned white. A deep groan rumbled in his throat, but he held his tongue. The rest of the miles rolled by with Liz staring out the side window and Josh staring at traffic. The city gave way to open fields, barns, tractors, and hay. They made a left on a gravel road and the rocks crunched under the tires as they drove.
A right turn into the driveway led them beside a lovely brick home with an attached two-car garage. Along the circle drive were friendly, smiling scarecrows, straw bales, pumpkins, and wooden signs painted in fall colors. The signs said things like Happy Fall Y’all and Fall is for bonfires and smores. Looping around behind the home, a variety of red barns with white trim came into view. Josh reached over and squeezed Liz’s arm.
“We shouldn’t start blaming each other for what happened. We can’t blame God. We can’t blame Colby. We just have to learn how to live with it.”
“You make it sound so easy Josh, like we aren’t living in a nightmare.”
“We are living in a nightmare,” he conceded. “We can do this,” he said to reassure them both.
He parked beneath a tin sign that read Visitor Parking and turned the car off. He cracked open the door, but Liz grabbed his arm. She was shaking her head and tears were filling her eyes once more.
“I can’t do this, Josh.”
“We’re already here; it’s going to be fine.” He settled back in his seat and laid his opposite hand over hers. “We won’t stay for long.”
“Josh?” A woman questioned from a few feet behind the car, leaning over to peer inside the open driver’s door.
“Yes, that’s me.” He rubbed Liz’s hand once more before he stood up.
“Christy.” She outstretched her hand to shake his. “We spoke on the phone.”
“Nice to meet you,” Josh said as he shook her hand. “Let me get Liz’s door.”
He stepped around the car and opened the door for his wife. He reached for her hand to help her out of the car. She was still buckled in her seat and he paused, unsure of what to do. Slowly, she unclicked the seatbelt and let it slide back to its resting spot, then she slid her hand into his, swiping the back of her other hand over her eyes, brushing tears away.
“This is Liz,” Josh motioned toward his wife, “Liz, this is Christy, the woman who called yesterday.”
Liz stuck out her hand to shake Christy’s, but Christy stepped in and embraced Liz with a warm hug that she held for a long pause, telling Liz, “I’m sorry about Colby. He was such a sweet young man. I’m thankful I met him.”
“Thank you.” Liz stepped back as Christy released her.
“Follow me and I’ll introduce you to Colby’s mare.” Christy motioned with her hand.
“Mare?” Josh asked.
Christy looked at him and studied his face for a moment, and registering his confusion over the term, she answered, “Yes, mare. It means she’s a girl horse.”
“A girl horse,” Josh repeated.
Josh reached out to put his arm around Liz’s shoulders, but she brushed him off. With a few feet of space between them, they followed quietly behind Christy. Josh glanced periodically at Liz, hurt by the cold shoulder she was giving him. Christy led them through a gate, which she closed behind them, and then down a path wide enough for a vehicle, with paddocks on both sides.
Liz eyed each horse and paddock suspiciously while she waited for Christy to announce which horse belonged to their son. The fresh air and sunshine began to put a smile on Josh’s face. He tried to approach Liz again, but she sidestepped and avoided him.
“Hey Jet.” Christy rubbed the face of a dark horse that stuck his head over the fence toward them.
Liz jerked sideways, right into Josh, to dodge the horse. She stared with wide eyes. “Is this Colby’s horse?”
Christy’s forward pace seemed to answer before her words came out. “No, she’s down here.” She gestured forward with her hand.
“It’s okay honey,” Josh murmured to Liz as he looked back over his shoulder at the dark horse watching them.
A shiny, golden-yellow horse with a coal-black mane and tail picked her head up from the spring grass she was happily munching. She ambled toward the fence with a softly nickered greeting. Christy lifted her hand and the mare stepped forward to have her face rubbed.
Liz stood back tentatively, her eyes went from the horse to Christy, to Josh, and then back to the horse.
“What’s her name?” Josh released his arm from around Liz and stepped toward the fence.
“Dusty.” Christy rested one hand over the bridge of Dusty’s nose, while the other hand scratched her neck.
“She’s gorgeous.” Josh took another step closer and looked Dusty over, the smile on his face grew wider.
“You can pet her,” Christy offered.
That was all it took. Josh touched her neck, and seeing that she wasn’t bothered by him, he began scratching and rubbing her, leaning in and feeling her warmth. Tears welled in his eyes as he ran his fingers through her black mane, talking to her softly, “Easy, shhh, good girl.”
“Have you ever been around horses?” Christy inquired.
“Neither of us have.” Josh squeezed his eyes shut, blinking hard to force the tears back, and then he looked over at Liz, whose eyes were wider yet. She folded her arms across her chest and stood a good distance back. Josh motioned for her to come closer, but she shook her head in protest.
“We were born and raised in the city, had our kids in the city, raised them in the city.” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I didn’t even know Colby was interested in horses.”
“We should have known Josh. Maybe if we had known…” Liz clenched her teeth and paced a few steps past Christy.
“No, Liz.” Josh retreated from Dusty and followed his wife. “Even if we had known, it might not have changed anything.”
Christy kissed Dusty behind the eye and stepped back from the fence. She shoved her hands in her pockets.
“If it’s not rude to ask, how did Colby die?”
Liz turned around to answer Christy and came face to face with Josh. She peered around him as a knot formed in her stomach. “Suicide.”
The space around them was suspended in silence; grief, despair, and guilt weighed heavily on Liz and Josh. Josh reached out and held Liz by her upper arms, looking into her red, puffy eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind and dropped his hands from her arms.
“He had been living with us for a while, working, trying to save money. We thought things were going...” Liz hesitated. “We thought they were going well.”
Dusty snorted loudly and she reached out and touched Josh’s elbow. He turned toward the friendly mare and rubbed her face and her jaw. “Liz came home from running a few errands and found him.”
“Oh my,” Christy said and shook her head. She rocked her weight from one leg to the other. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Liz agreed.
Josh cleared his throat. “We didn’t come out here to ruin a sunny day for you, ma’am.” He turned his attention to Liz. “I think we should keep Dusty, for now.”
Liz looked wide-eyed at him and shook her head. “We don’t know anything about horses. We don’t have any place to keep a horse.”
“Colby was keeping her here.” He gestured toward Christy, one eyebrow lifted as if his statement was also a question. “I assume we could do the same thing.”
“Of course, of course.” Christy nodded. “This is what I do, board and train horses.”
“See? Dusty can live here, and we can keep her. She was Colby’s. We ought to take care of her.”
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t we talk about this first?”
“What’s there to talk about? Colby wouldn’t want Dusty going just anywhere.”
“You don’t have to make any decisions right away. She can stay and I can show you how to take care of her. If, in a few weeks, you need to sell her, I can help with that. This is her pen, and I’m happy to have her here,” Christy said.
Liz nodded tentatively, looking from Christy to Josh and then back again.
“Do you want to pet her?” Christy asked Liz.
Liz studied Dusty and took a cautious step forward but then she shook her head. “Not this time.”
“What’s it cost to keep her here?” Josh asked.
“Colby was keeping her here as a self-care boarder. He came out twice a day to feed and water her, cleaned her paddock, and provided all her feed. I charge one hundred and fifty dollars per month for self-care. I do have some other options if you need help with her care,” Christy answered.
“That’s not bad. One-fifty a month, Liz.” Josh kept petting Dusty, nodding while he considered what Christy told him.
“Twice a day, Josh. You will have to come out and feed her twice a day. Can you make that kind of commitment with your work schedule?”
“Will you help me?”
Liz glared at Josh. She pushed a few stray strands of hair behind her right ear and then turned toward Christy. “What does she eat?”
Christy’s expression turned to amusement as she realized that the couple really knew nothing about horses. “Hay, mostly. Colby did have her on a little bit of extruded feed and a vitamin and mineral supplement. He was starting to ride her a bit more, so we picked out the extras to help make sure she maintained her weight and condition.”
“Were you teaching Colby to ride?” Liz asked.
“I was,” Christy answered. She stepped closer to the fence and stuck her foot up on the bottom cable. She gazed out over Dusty’s paddock for a moment, then looked back over at Liz. “He was a good rider, too. For someone with no experience, you couldn’t really tell. He was quiet on her, willing to listen. I enjoyed working with him.”
“Maybe you could teach us?” Josh suggested.
“I’d love to,” Christy replied.
“Paper or plastic?” Tyler asked the woman who pushed her empty cart toward him.
“Paper, please,” she replied.
Tyler organized and bagged each of the items that came down the conveyor belt to him. He worked steadily and quietly until all her groceries were bagged and back in her cart.
“Would you like help out to your car?” he asked.
She studied his face, tilting her head just slightly to the side as she tried to figure out where she knew him from. After an awkward pause, she nodded. “That would be good, thank you.”
Tyler pushed the buggy and motioned for her to lead the way to her vehicle. She opened the back hatch of the SUV and turned to study Tyler’s face again.
“Are you Colby’s brother?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
He unloaded her sacks from the shopping cart into the back of her SUV one at a time, taking extra care to keep her bread from being smashed or her eggs from being cracked.
“He volunteered with my organization, Books for Kids. We sure miss him. I thought I recognized you from the funeral. It was wonderful the way you spoke of him. You two must have been close.”
“We were.”
Tyler held the side of the shopping cart and stepped back so she could close the back of her vehicle.
“I don’t know if he told you much about what we do, but we would love to show you how he helped if that would be any consolation to you.”
“I know he helped a couple boys work on their reading skills.” Tyler chuckled. “He was always a nerd like that.”
The woman stuck out her hand to shake Tyler’s. “I’m Shelly.”
“Nice to meet you Shelly. My name is Tyler.”
“You don’t have to come volunteer. Just come see what he did. Maybe it will help you feel close to him even now that he is gone.”
“I wouldn’t mind volunteering,” Tyler offered. “Do you guys need books?”
“We always need books. We try to send our kids home with three new books every week.”
Shelly dug around in her purse and pulled out a business card. She smoothed the corners back and her lips turned down in a slim frown.
“I’m sorry, this one is a little banged up, but it’s the only one I have on me. This is our address and my cell. Seriously, you should come by sometime. I’d love to show you around.”
“Thanks.” He raised the card and tipped his head. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Sounds good.”
Tyler pushed the buggy back to the front of the store, pushing it into place behind another empty basket. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked into the store.
“Shift’s over, Miller,” the manager called out to him.
Tipping his head up to acknowledge his boss, he then walked to the back of the store, through a set of double doors, and over to his employee locker. Tyler peeled off his bright yellow vest and shoved it into his locker. He traded it for his hoodie and then he shut the locker again. He clocked out and waved farewell to one of his co-workers before slipping out the door and walking over to his car, where he pulled his phone out and checked his messages.
You coming tonight?
He stared at the invitation. The thought of getting completely wasted at a party with his friends was tempting. No one would be any wiser. He pushed the button to light his phone back up and stared at the message again, tapping in a short response.
Where?
In digging the keys out of his pocket, he knocked the business card Shelly gave him to the ground, at his feet. He stooped to pick it up, reading the line across the top.
Helping kids succeed by helping them read.
The idea of his brother sitting with some little kid, singing the alphabet song, brought a smile to his face. He unlocked his car and dropped down into the driver’s seat.
“You should have stayed, Colby,” he whispered into the emptiness inside his car.
He drove across town to the local bookstore he remembered Colby talking about all the time. His brother was always reading something. Whether it was epic fantasy or a history book, Colby loved reading, once he overcame his struggle to learn how to read. Tyler parked his car and tried to muster more courage than he was feeling. He walked up to the entrance and pulled the door open. On the inside, the store was a little bit on the dusty side and smelled of old books and grandmothers.
“Greetings,” a female voice called out. “Can I help you find something?”
“Where are your kids’ books?”
Tyler made his way toward the voice, going around one shelf, a cozy-looking chair, and another shelf until he came to a girl a head shorter than him shelving books. She smiled when she saw him.
“Kids’ books are over there.” She pointed to a section that was easily identifiable once he saw it.
“Thanks.”
“Looking for something specific?”
She pushed the last book in her hand into place on the shelf and followed Tyler to the children’s area. Small chairs in primary colors were arranged around a little wooden table. A bean bag chair sat in one corner, while a reading rug with throw pillows sat across from it.
“No, I’m going to buy some books for Books for Kids. I think I should be able to find something here.”
“We had another guy that used to buy books for them. My boss and I were just talking about him this morning. He was usually here every Friday and we haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”
Tyler just nodded, only half-listening as he read titles and studied the covers on various books. One after another, he began selecting books. Once he had loaded his arm with fourteen or fifteen different books, he made his way toward the front counter. The girl scurried over from where she had been shelving a few more books.
“Is this going to be all for today?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Your total is sixty-one dollars and eighty-two cents.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I gave you a ten percent discount since you are buying them to donate. That’s what we always did for that other guy. I sure hope he’s okay.”
“Other guy?”
Tyler stuck his debit card in the chip reader.
“You know, the one I was telling you about. He used to come in every Friday and buy a stack of books. But he hasn’t been here in weeks. I just wonder if something happened to him.”
Tyler felt a sick feeling swirl in his stomach.
“Did you get his name?” he asked.
“You’d think I would have, but no. I never did.”
Tyler flipped open his wallet and held it up so she could see the picture of him and Colby together.
“Was it this guy?”
“Yes! That’s him.” She grinned from ear to ear. “So, you know him? Small world.”
“He’s my brother.”
“That’s a relief. I’m glad he’s okay.”
Tyler shook his head and clenched his jaw. “He passed away a few weeks ago.”
She covered her mouth with her hand and tears welled in her eyes. “Oh my gosh. I am so sorry.”
Her boss heard the commotion and stepped out of the office, asking in a commanding tone, “Is everything okay Maddy?”
“Dave.” She sounded frantic. “You know the guy we were talking about, the kids’ books guy?”
“What about him?” Dave looked impatient.
“He died.” Maddy turned to Tyler. “What happened?”
Tyler heaved a deep sigh, “Suicide. I’ve got to go.”
He could hear the shock in her voice and then the chattering between her and her boss as he walked quickly to the front door and let himself out.
He dropped the sack of books into the passenger seat beside him. Silence seemed to be the only sound that fit the drive to the smoothie shop, so when his car came to life, he powered the radio off. Tears stung his eyes, but he fought to hold them back.
What’s done is done.
While sitting in the drive-thru waiting for the smoothies he ordered for himself and his mom, he checked his phone. The location of the party was there, along with another pleading text for him to come along.
Not tonight, he tapped out and sent.
He shoved the smoothies into his cup holders. His foot was heavy on the accelerator as he drove toward the only home he had ever known. The roads familiar, he drove without much thought about the actual driving.
I shouldn’t have been out with friends. Colby would still be alive if I had been at home that night. No one will ever say it, but this is all my fault. I lied to my parents about where I was. I lied about not having homework. If I had just fessed up to having a paper due and had come home, then Colby wouldn’t have been alone. He couldn’t have done this if he wasn’t alone. I knew something was off. He had withdrawn. He gave me his baseball cards and I should have known that meant something bad.
He parked his car in the driveway beside his mom’s car. He grabbed both of their smoothies and headed inside.
“Mom!” He hollered from the entryway as he kicked his shoes off.
“Mom?” he said softer as he walked down the hallway and tapped on her bedroom door. Letting himself in her room, he walked through the mostly dark room and over to her side of the bed. The outline of her body was evident under the blankets even in the shadows. He clicked on her bedside lamp and set her smoothie on her nightstand.
“Mom, I brought you a smoothie.” He rubbed her arm.
She stretched and peered up at him. “Is it morning already?”
“Morning?” He laughed. “It’s evening, Mom. I’ve been out all day.”
She scooted up on the bed, propping her pillows around and behind her. She curled her legs criss-cross applesauce in front of her and then she reached for the smoothie and sucked the thick, fruity mixture through the wide straw.
“You got the right one.” She gave Tyler a sleepy smile.
“I had an idea, Mom.” He sat on her bed, turning toward her so he could see her expression.
“You remember how Colby used to help those kids learn to read? And he used to donate books?”
“Yes.” She drew out the ‘s’ as she studied Tyler’s face.
“I got some books to donate today, while I was out. I was thinking you and I could go donate them tomorrow and check out the center. What if we helped, you know, to honor Colby?”
“I’ll come with you to drop off the books, but I’m not staying to help. You can do that Tyler, but I’m not up to it. This is all my fault and I don’t know how to live with it yet.”
“This isn’t your fault, Mom.”
This is my fault. You’ll never look at me the same if I tell you about the party, the baseball cards, or the homework. I could have prevented all of it.