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Zeke’s barking woke me up early in the morning. It was still dark outside. I walked to the living room window with my down blanket wrapped around me and looked out. The water was much lower but still carried debris. My breath caught when I saw something white floating down again. Is it another body? As it came closer, I saw that it wasn’t just one body. It was two small bodies floating in tandem. When they neared my window, I gasped. It was Julia and Emma holding hands, their lifeless bodies being carried slowly away. Emma was wearing her frilly yellow dress, and Julia was in a white nightgown like the first woman. Their blond hair wafted around their little heads like halos. Tears poured down my face, and I cried out, my breath fogging up the window. Their eyes opened, and they stared at me as if they’d heard me. I could have sworn I heard Julia say, “Help us!”
Oh my god! I slapped my hands on the window and screamed their names. I shook my head. Am I still asleep and dreaming? It can’t be real. I closed my eyes, my hands still braced on the cold window, and counted to ten. I took two deep breaths then opened my eyes again. They were farther down by the flower shop. I pulled up the window and grabbed the binoculars from the table. When I looked again, I saw clearly that it was a white trash bag with yellow drawstring handles. I dropped onto the couch and cried, my body shaking with each sob. Zeke jumped up, and I pulled the blanket around our bodies and over my head. We huddled together under the blanket while Zeke licked my tears. I wondered if I would ever get over the deaths of the girls. They’d become a part of the landscape of my life, a part I would always cherish and mourn. I fell asleep with Zeke on my lap, the blanket still covering us.
The sunlight shining brightly through the window nudged me awake a few hours later. I brought the blanket down and took a long deep breath, exhaling in a white puff. I started a fire and sat back down, waiting for the heat to warm the room. I needed to hear my mom’s comforting voice. I rose and stretched my stiff muscles before dialing her number.
“Hi,” I said sleepily.
“Has the flooding subsided?”
I looked outside. Only an inch or so remained. “Most of it. The sun is out. Hopefully, that’ll help burn the last of it off.”
“Honey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just... had a bad dream. How’s everything over there?”
“We’re fine. Your dad hasn’t been feeling well. He’s a little run-down. I’ve been making him rest and making sure he eats properly. You know your dad. He’ll go until dinner without eating if I don’t remind him.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s nothing serious though, is it?”
“I don’t think so. At first, I was worried he’d gotten the virus. But we had him tested again, and it’s not that. He just works too hard and doesn’t take care of himself. He has a check-up scheduled in two weeks, so we’ll mention it to his doctor. By the way, there was a story on the news last night about a medication they are testing. It’s supposed to be much stronger and bump up some immune cells called ‘killer cells.’ It sounds promising.”
“That’s good news! I really hope this one works out. What’s the new death count?”
“They haven’t released a new count yet. Something tells me they’re dragging their feet. The last release was such a huge jump in numbers, people started to get frantic.”
“You’re probably right.”
I hung up and pushed play on Ollie’s iPod. I made a couple of corn cakes and ate while listening. He had good taste in music. Some of ours overlapped, but there were also some songs from bands I’d never heard. It was an eclectic mix, and I was enjoying that new way of getting to know someone. It was like looking into the darkest and lightest parts of a person, taking a musical journey through his soul. I heard a knock and went to let Ollie in. His face fell when he heard a haunting song on his iPod called “Brother” by a band I’d never heard of named Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. I’d played it over and over again because it was so beautiful. “This song is amazing. I can’t get it out of my head.”
He brushed past me and hit the stop button on his iPod. I followed him and pressed the power off button on the speaker, curious about his sudden change in mood. I didn’t say anything but watched him rub his forehead until he finally looked up at me.
“Sorry.”
I pursed my lips and watched him look out the window. “Are you okay?”
He looked back at me, and his expression seemed angry and something else I couldn’t place. “I’m fine.”
I put my hands on my hips and studied him for a beat. “Are you going to tell me what you’re so mad about?”
“I’m not mad. And no.”
I flinched at his tone.
He paused then sighed. “It’s not you. I promise. I just wanted some coffee.”
I decided not to press him. “Sit down. I’ll make you a corn cake.”
He was quiet, staring off into the distance while I cooked. I could feel tension radiating off his body as he ate. When he was done, he rose to leave. I followed him out. At his door, I lingered, hoping he would tell me what was wrong. But he didn’t. Instead, he opened his door and started to walk in.
“Knock if you need anything,” I said.
He turned back and nodded at me then closed the door. Something about that song was bugging him. But I could only speculate and give him space. I contemplated asking him to join me for my workout a half hour later but thought better of it and worked out on my own. I spent most of the day listening to his iPod and braiding Zeke’s huge, fluffy tail into small fishtail braids. When I was done, I wasted another hour undoing them and brushing out all the knots I’d created. Zeke watched patiently, licking my hand here and there. He didn’t seem to mind. At five o’clock, I walked to the window. Purples, oranges, and reds filled the sky, reminding me of one of my favorite Klimt paintings. Zeke and I ran to the roof to watch. When I walked through the door, I found Ollie sitting on the ledge. He didn’t notice us until Zeke ran over and put his nose into the hand that was dangling, urging Ollie to pet him. He jerked his head around, surprised not to be alone anymore.
I walked over and sat across from him on the ledge. “Hi.”
His eyes flicked to mine. “Hi. Beautiful sunset, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, so many colors. You been up here long?”
He turned his face back to the view. “A few hours.”
I nodded and turned to take in the dazzling display. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I didn’t want to intrude on his thoughts or make him feel like we needed chitchat to fill the silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him. He seemed to be somewhere else.
Finally, he turned to me. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
I kept my face toward the sunset. Its warmth felt luxurious on my skin. “It’s okay.”
I waited, hoping he would take the chance to spill his secrets. I heard him sniff.
“I had a brother named Phillip who died of leukemia when he was only five years old.”
I turned to look at him then and felt myself leaning in.
“That song, the one you were listening to, it makes me think of him. It’s kind of my song to him. And I just get sad. I didn’t want to feel sad right then. But I did anyway, and I started thinking about Caleb. I got so mad at Dana. I kept thinking about this time we volunteered at a fundraiser. We’d spent the whole day with kids, and we talked about the children we’d have someday. I just can’t believe she did this. I never got to meet my own son. And I...”
He was crying openly, his head down and his shoulders shaking. I scooted closer and put my arms around him. He rested his head sideways on my shoulder and continued crying, his whole body trembling. I rubbed his back, trying to comfort him as much as possible. Finally, he pulled back and wiped his red, swollen eyes.
When his tears finally stopped, I scooted back a little. “How old were you when your brother died?”
“I was just a year older than him. My first memory is of bringing his toys to the hospital and playing to try to cheer him up. He was so sick but very brave. He told knock-knock jokes to distract us whenever we got too overwhelmed by the machines and how sick he looked. He was so funny and kind. He never complained or cried. He just sat there and took whatever they gave him. He was my best friend. We were inseparable.” He looked at me then, and I saw tears welling up in his eyes again. “My mom told me that when we were toddlers, she would find me sleeping in his crib, having climbed in there sometime in the middle of the night. A few days before he died, he pulled me aside and begged me to take care of Mom and Dad and his dog, Peanut. My parents were devastated when he died, but I did my best. I let my mom hold me and cry for hours. I don’t think she’s ever fully recovered. I still catch her in his old room, crying, occasionally,” he said wistfully. “Why are you crying?”
I quickly put my hand to my face and felt the wetness there. I hadn’t even noticed the tears. “Sorry, I don’t know. It’s just so sad.” It made me think about the girls, and I wondered if I would still be crying over their deaths years in the future.
“I just needed some time to let the sadness run out of me. It hits me from time to time—a memory will spring up, and it’ll consume me. But I’m feeling better now. I guess I needed to get that out. Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder. Sorry I was so moody,” he said with a sad smile.
“I understand.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No, I’m an only child. My mom has a tilted uterus from a bike accident when she was sixteen. They told her she couldn’t get pregnant, but I exist anyway. She calls me her miracle baby who refused to be denied existence.” We both smiled. “But I had a cousin named Joaquina who was only a few years younger than me. Most of my cousins are much older, so the two of us really bonded at family gatherings. We were as close as siblings.”
“Were?”
“She died in a car accident when she was fifteen. Her friend was driving, and they collided with a truck that ran a red light. The guy said he was late for dinner with his wife and didn’t see the light. Her friend lived, but Quina didn’t. It hit me really hard, but it was much harder on my aunt and uncle. She was an only child, too, and they never had more kids. I think they were too heartbroken. She was such a great person. Outgoing, funny, but with a really big heart. Anytime we passed a homeless person, she’d go buy them food even if we were rushing to get somewhere. She pops into my head at the oddest times.” I wiped a tear off my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he replied, touching my arm. “I think about Phillip all the time, and it’s been over thirty years. Our HR manager told a knock-knock joke in a meeting once, and I burst into tears while everyone else laughed. So embarrassing.” I heard the pain in his voice even though he was flippant about it. Then he shook his head. “Okay, enough of the sad stuff. What’s your first memory?”
I thought about it for a minute before it came to me, a memory so strong and powerful that I was immediately filled with love. I smiled. “I think I must have been about four or five? We were at a family function, a birthday or something like that. It was late, way past my bedtime, but it was the weekend, so my mom was eager to enjoy her time with the family. I was getting really cranky and just wanted to be home. My mom was deep in a conversation with my aunt, so she picked me up and put me on her lap facing her. She put my head on her chest and her arms around me. I remember hearing her heart beating loudly in my ears. That’s the first thing I remember, the soothing rhythm of my mom’s heartbeat lulling me to sleep.” The memory made me really happy, and although I didn’t need proof, it reminded me how much my mom loved me. I looked over, and he was smiling at me. God, he was pretty. I felt my heartbeat quicken.
“That’s a great story. You tell it very well too,” he said, seemingly happy to have changed the subject to something more uplifting.
The sun had set, leaving only a light glow beyond the line of tall skyscrapers, so we went back downstairs. He came over and helped me make a pot of rice, and we chopped and sautéed some acorns to throw in for added flavor. We ate in comfortable silence, listening to his iPod. When we were done, I walked over to the tick wall and made the last tick for the third month and circled the batch.
Ollie watched me. “Three months, huh? Seems like longer.”
“It does,” I replied.
I thought about our conversations and how much they were helping me. I was more grounded and mentally in check. The other plus to him being there was that if I heard noises in the building, I assumed they were coming from Ollie and not an intruder. My paranoia was dwindling. I knew I’d been pulled back from the edge. Maybe this is all gonna work out. We played a few card games before calling it a night. My mind was clear for the first time in a long time, and I felt something like hope creep back in.
But the next morning, my mom called, and I could tell instantly that something was wrong. “Mom, what is it? Tell me.” I heard a faint knock on my front door, and I hollered out a distracted, “Yeah, come in!”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” She paused and then said reluctantly, “Your father’s had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital. He went into surgery last night. He’s stable now, and they are monitoring him. But they said everything went really well, and they were able to fix the blockage.”
I could tell she’d been crying, and I felt tears pour down my face. I was in the doorway between the dining room and living room, and I placed my forehead on the frame. I couldn’t say anything because I was crying too much. My mom was trying to reassure me, but it wouldn’t seep in. It was one of my worst nightmares. Part of the guilt I’d felt when I moved to New York was the worry I had about my parents’ health. I’d always assumed that one day I would have to move back and take care of them, but that was sort of off the table for the time being.
“Oh my god,” I gasped. “I can’t believe I’m not there. I should be there with him. I shouldn’t be here. Why did I do this? I can’t even sit by his bed and hold his hand.” I sobbed uncontrollably.
“I know. I’m sorry you aren’t here too. It’ll be okay though. He’s going to be fine.” She tried.
“What if he’s not? What if he dies, and I’m stuck here and never get to say goodbye!” I was almost hysterical.
“Karis, that’s not going to happen,” she said sternly. “The doctors say he should make a full recovery and will have to adjust his diet and exercise. That’s all. I know it sounds bad, but he’s going to be fine. We’re going to be okay.”
I tried hard to let her words penetrate my brain, but it wasn’t working.
“I’ve gotta go. They are running more tests to make sure he doesn’t get an infection. I’m sorry I had to tell you this, but I know you would be mad if I didn’t,” she confessed.
“I’m glad you did. Tell him I love him. Even if he can’t hear you, just say it to him, please.”
“I will. I love you, honey. Don’t worry too much. We’ve got this under control. I’ll call you later with an update.”
“I love you too. Bye.”
I hung up the phone and just stood there with my head on the frame and my hands gripping its edges, sobbing. Ollie cleared his throat. I looked up at him standing in the doorway to my dining room. He walked over and put his arms around me, returning the comfort I’d given him the day before. I fell into his arms and completely broke down, weeping on his shoulder. I didn’t know how much he’d heard or if he even knew what was going on.
I sniffed into his shoulder. “My dad had a heart attack, and I’m not there.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his arms tightening around me.
I cried for another minute until I was finally able to calm down. My breathing evened out, but he continued to hold me, and I let him. It felt good in his arms, almost as if I was home. Absentmindedly, I wiped my face on his shirt before realizing what I was doing. We stood like that for several minutes before I began to pull away. But as I did, he tightened his arms, and our faces were close. I looked at him, and without thinking, I pulled him closer and kissed him. It was electric, my limbs tingling like they’d fallen asleep. Then all I could feel were his lips on mine. As the kiss deepened, I heard him groan. At least I thought it was him and not me. It was without a doubt the best kiss I’d ever experienced. My body was eagerly opening up to him just as my heart reluctantly had. The kiss went on for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, intensifying with each moment. Finally, he scooped me up and took me to the bedroom.
He slowly took off my clothes, unbuttoning my dress and pulling it down, kissing my stomach as he went. He continued to my breasts, kissing them through the mesh fabric of my bra. My body was tingling, and my breath was coming in gasps. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off. There was urgency to our movements, and I was glad he was feeling it too. I unzipped his pants and pulled them down while he removed my bra and underwear. When we were both naked, he eased down on top of me, and I wrapped my legs around him. He kissed my neck then moved back to my lips. I was writhing underneath him, urging him on. His movements started to mimic mine until we were both on the edge. I was so overcome that I didn’t think. I just felt and moved.
Suddenly, he groaned, reached down, and entered me. My mind dissolved into thousands of little sparks. We were still, the intensity of sensation causing us to pause and revel in what was happening. We were clasped together in a soundless, airless room. Slowly that faded to the background as he began to move inside me. I matched his movements, going slowly. But soon it was too much for both of us, and our pace quickened until I felt a slow ache building in my lower back. I swam around in the sensation until it overcame my whole body in a final release. He yelled as he reached his climax too. He lay on top of me with his arms around me, spent and sweaty, kissing my face and lips.
Our breathing gradually returned to normal, and he rolled over, pulling me into his arms. We were both quiet, trying to take in what had just happened. It was an instance of complete mental and physical satiation, and I wished I had something else to compare it to, but that didn’t exist anywhere in my memory. I fell asleep, happy for the first time in months.
I awoke a few hours later, still wrapped in Ollie’s arms. I lay there, thinking about what had happened between us, and I was overcome, feeling large chunks of my emotional wall crumbling down—it terrified me. By force of habit and something close to panic, I mentally tried to pick the pieces up and force them back into that wall. For me, love resided in a deep, dark, impenetrable place, a hidden corner.
But I heard Julia telling me not to give up, to take what the world was offering me. I exhaled and let go. I couldn’t keep those walls up forever, and I didn’t want to. I wanted to let someone in, and for my own sake, I knew I had to. It was my opportunity to be brave and take what I wanted for once. I turned to look at him. He was watching me, studying my face. Slowly, he smiled, and like a contagious yawn, it made me smile too.