“Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.”― JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
went to see Leigh’s parents. They lived "in town" which was really a tiny neighborhood of houses near the town center of Crossroads. My nerves already felt frayed, and the lack of sleep the night before was undoubtedly not helping. But I couldn’t rest until I went to see the Shays.
I slowly brought the car to a stop in front of their small brick home. The sight of the house brought a wave of memories crashing over me. I had spent as much time there as my home growing up. The Shays only had one child. Leigh. Losing my parents was the hardest thing I ever went through; it changed me. But, to lose your only child, I could only imagine the grief the Shays were feeling. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past day and a half, tears threatened but I held them at bay. My tears would not help The Shays.
“Come on, Tess, pull it together.”
The front door opened, and Mrs. Shay stood in the doorway, staring at me. And the emotional dam broke. I opened the car door, ran across the front lawn and threw myself into her arms, sobbing like a three-year-old. She said nothing, but her arms wrapped around me, and her warmth brought comfort. Eventually, my tears slowed down and my breathing became more even, and it finally dawned on me I was supposed to be comforting Mrs. Shay, not the other way around. She led me into the house and shut the front door. We sat down on the couch in the living room. The curtains were drawn and the light was dim. Mr. Shay was nowhere in sight.
“Hi,” I said lamely.
“Hi honey,” Mrs. Shay responded while handing me some tissues and brushing the hair out of my face. She looked like she had aged twenty years since the last time I saw her. Her normally shiny hair that she always took time to style was dull and unwashed. She wore old jeans and a stained shirt. Her rumpled clothes looked like she had been in them for a couple of days. Normally, Mrs. Shay always wore make-up, no matter what we were doing. Not today.
Not knowing how to start, I brushed her hair back out of her face. She needed help. I wrapped my arms around her and held her the way she held me a few moments ago. She didn’t cry; she just laid there on my shoulder and let me rub her back.
“When was the last time you slept?” I asked her quietly.
“I don’t know. I can’t sit still. But I can’t focus on anything to get something done either. I mostly just walk around the house.”
She looked and sounded lost.
“Where is Mr. Shay?” I asked.
“In bed.” She glanced up the stairs. “He doesn’t get out of bed. He just lays there.”
I looked around the house. Dishes of food people had brought over covered the dining room table. Some of the food looked like it had been sitting there for some time.
“Mrs. Shay, you need to rest. You are exhausted. Please, go lay down with Mr. Shay. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things and talk to anyone who comes by.”
She nodded slowly but didn’t make any move to get up, so I stood up from the couch and pulled her to her feet. Taking her by the arm, I led her up the stairs to her bedroom. In the room, Mr. Shay was lying on the bed, on top of the covers. His eyes were open, but it did not seem like they were seeing anything. For a brief second, I wondered if he was alive, but then I saw him blink. That was it. Otherwise, he didn’t move or acknowledge our presence. Like Mrs. Shay, his normally neatly combed hair was a mess and didn’t look like he had washed it recently. His glasses were on the floor near the wall across from the bed. Luckily, it looked like they didn’t break when he apparently threw them across the room.
Guiding Mrs. Shay to the bed the way you would a sleepy child, I pulled back the covers and gently helped her lie down. Walking to the other side of the bed, I tried to get Mr. Shay to move so I could cover him, too. For a minute, he didn’t seem to notice that I was nudging his arm, but then he finally turned his head and looked at me.
“Come on Mr. Shay, let me cover you,” I said to him quietly.
The bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin. He didn’t fight me when I pulled him to his feet so I could pull back the covers. Still dressed for work, his tie hung loose and crooked around his neck. Guiding him to sit down on the bed, I removed the tie before he laid back down in the same position as before. I pulled the covers over him and picked his glasses up off the floor to put on the nightstand next to the bed.
I prayed they would sleep. Closing the door quietly behind me, I looked down the hall toward Leigh’s old room. My chest ached at the thought of going in there. Hanging my head, I debated if I had the strength. It wasn’t something that was going to get easier with time, so slowly I walked down the hall. I stopped at the open doorway. The space was exactly the same as when we were in high school.
The walls were pink. As in Barbie pink. She loved it no matter how much I picked on her about it when we were growing up. I skimmed my hand along the top of the old white dresser. I remember when her mom got that dresser. We were young, maybe seven or eight, and at a flea market with Mrs. Shay. Leigh saw it and begged her mom to buy it. I thought the thing would be better used as firewood, but Leigh and her mom saw the potential. So, the three of us somewhat dragged, somewhat carried the heavy dresser all the way to the Shay’s old truck and got it in the back. We spent all weekend sanding and painting. When we were done, even I had to admit, it looked pretty good. Leigh loved it.
Same went for her old, wooden sleigh bed. Another flea market find that Leigh and her mom had repurposed and brought back to life. Leigh hated waste and loved to scour flea markets and yard sales for the old and discarded. She had a talent for finding treasure where most of us only saw trash.
I sat down on Leigh’s bed. The quilt her grandmother made her when she was a baby covered the bed, along with some throw pillows. The pillows were pink, of course. She had pictures everywhere, most of her family, Jack, and me. Her favorite purse she always used in high school still hung on the back of her desk chair like it was waiting for her to run in and grab it to go shopping.
Tears ran down my face, but I didn’t realize it until they dripped onto my hands. Wiping my hands off on my jeans, I stood up and used my sleeves to dry my cheeks. I tiptoed down the hall to Leigh’s parents’ room and peeked through the door, hoping they were asleep. They faced each other, hands clasped in between them. I quietly closed the door and went back downstairs.
Grabbing some paper from the junk drawer in the kitchen, I wrote a quick note to please not ring the doorbell and taped it to the storm door so there was no missing it. I left the front door cracked and opened the curtains and windows. This way, I would notice if someone came up the walk, and it would also air out the house a bit.
Looking around, I tackled the food on the dining room table first. I wasn’t sure if I could salvage any of it. Who knew how long it had been sitting there? There was a lot of food. I hated to get rid of it all, but I would not risk the Shay’s getting sick when they finally ate something.
I walked over to the table and couldn’t help but smile a little. Mrs. Shay, even under these circumstances, had attached post-it notes to all the food, so she knew who brought it and could return the bowl, pot, or plate. I picked up the closest dish and looked under the tinfoil. A blueberry pie. That should be okay, so I moved it to the credenza by the wall. The next dish was a shepherd’s pie that looked like it had been there for some time. I pulled the trash can out of the kitchen and into the dining room and got to work.
I was drying the last dish off and making a neat stack on the table when I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. It was an unknown number, but local.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
It was Jack. Every one of my nerves seemed to come alive at the sound of his voice. I really wasn’t sure he would ever use it when I left him my phone number. Neither of us said anything for a second, and I knew he was wondering if this was a mistake or even why he called. Before he could think on that for too long, I broke the silence.
“I’m at the Shay’s house. They’re sleeping, so I’m trying to clean up and keep an eye out for any visitors.”
“That’s good,” he said. “I only saw Mrs. Shay for a minute when I stopped by, and she looked like she was hanging on by a thread.”
“She’s laying down with Mr. Shay. I’m hoping they sleep through the night. I don’t think either of them has slept in days.”
He was quiet for another minute, and I was about to say something else to fill the void when he beat me to it.
“Have you eaten dinner?” he asked.
“No, not yet,” I said, looking at the clock on the microwave. “Holy crap, it’s 6:00 already? Damn, I was going to do some grocery shopping and make dinner for Benny.”
“I just passed by the shop,” Jack said. “His Jeep is still outside. Why don’t you pick up some subs or burgers and I’ll get some beers and meet you at your house. I’ll go back by the shop and let Benny know, so he comes home for dinner.”
Did he not usually come home for dinner? The question ran through my head, but I stopped myself from saying it out loud. Dinner had always been a big deal for my family. It didn’t matter if we were eating a full course meal or peanut butter and jelly. There were the occasional exceptions, but for the most part, we always ate dinner together. It was a big deal to my mom and dad. After they were gone, Benny kept it going even though it was just the two of us. I guess there was no reason for Benny to come home for dinner after I left.
Then it hit me what Jack was saying. He wants to come over and have dinner with us?
“Umm, sure, that sounds great,” I said. I was trying to keep my tone casual but, on the inside, a hornet’s nest was getting worked up like someone just kicked their hive. “I’ll see you in about an hour. I need to finish up here and then I’ll head out.”
“Cool, I’ll see you there,” he said.
He sounded relaxed. Maybe too relaxed, like it was forced.
I put my phone back in my pocket and tried to focus on wiping down the table and counters. I didn’t want to make a big deal about that phone call from Jack. Was he trying to reconnect? He seemed like he could barely tolerate the sight of me at his house earlier.
As I threw all the dirty dish towels I created into the laundry room, my phone vibrated with a text message.
Jack changed his mind was the first thought that popped into my head.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket slowly and looked at the screen, dreading to see Jack’s name. But it wasn’t Jack. It was Vito, my ex-boss.
I have an opportunity for you. They need someone soon, so you will have to act fast if you are interested. This would be great for you! Call me as soon as you can.