“That’s right,” Cameron says with a sad nod. “I remember that you told me when I picked you up from the airport that your mom died giving birth to you.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “The guy I was dating called to wish me a happy birthday that morning, and when I told him that my plans fell through, he invited me to Hawaii for spring break with him and his friends, but they were leaving that evening.”
“And you being in your impulsive stage agreed to go?”
“Exactly. I packed my bags and told my dad. Being the caring person he was, he insisted on dropping me off at LAX so that I didn’t have to pay for parking. The guy I was seeing couldn’t give me a ride because he was carpooling with his friends, and they didn’t have extra room.
“I could tell that he was struggling on the drive to the airport, but I just chalked it up to him not feeling well and gave him a hasty goodbye at the curb so that he could get back home and rest. But when he was hugging me goodbye, he was overwhelmed with this feeling of impending doom, like something bad was going to happen to me if I went.” I shake my head as I look away to wipe away the first tear, sure that more are on their way.
“You don’t have to keep going if it’s too much,” Cameron says, reaching out to take my hand in his.
“No, I want to finish. I want you to know the whole story.” I take another deep breath to press on. “I was a stupid, selfish kid,so I brushed him off. He even went so far as to beg me to get back in the car with him, but I wrenched myself away as soon as my boyfriend came to get me. I told my dad that I would text him when I got on the plane and when I landed so that he wouldn’t have to worry, and that if there was Wi-Fi on the plane, I would connect so I could send him updates every hour.”
He squeezes my hand gently as I sit in the shame that particular part of the story always brings. “We had to rush through TSA and run to our gate. My dad started calling while I was on the jet bridge, but I didn’t feel my phone vibrate. When I finally saw the multiple missed calls, I was worried that he was still trying to talk me out of going, so as soon as the plane started taxiing to the runway, I shot him a text that we were about to take off and that I’d check in as much as I could. It was that time that the stewardess came onto the speaker and apologized for the Wi-Fi being unavailable on our plane, so I texted him again to say that I wouldn’t be able to talk during the flight, but I would call as soon as I landed and then put my phone into Airplane Mode.”
Cameron deflates at the details, already suspecting what is coming next.
“When we landed, I took my phone out to call him right away, but I got his voicemail. I figured that he was asleep. L.A. is three hours ahead, and it was already late in Hawaii, so I left him a voicemail that I made it safe and then put my phone on the charger so I could get some sleep. It wasn’t until I woke up the next morning without a call or text back that I started to worry. I tried to call him for a second time and got his voicemail again. The guy I was seeing told me to forget about it and come with them to the beach, but my dad was always available to answer my calls or texts, so I knew something was wrong. I called my dad’s best friend, Billy, who lived in the same apartmentcomplex and asked him to check on my dad with his spare key, and—” My voice breaks with a sob that lodges itself in my throat.
“Take all the time you need, I’m here.” Cameron reaches for me, and I hold on to him for the strength I need to finish.
I say the next part through unfocused eyes, because the memory is so vivid I am always transported back in time, like I am seeing it and hearing it in the first person again. “I’ll never forget when Billy called me back. He was so hysterical that I hardly recognized his voice, but I could understand enough to know that my dad was gone and had been for a while.”
Cameron swears under his breath and lets go of one of my hands to wipe away a fresh spring of tears that race down my cheeks, but he cannot keep up with them. I push his hand away to dry my face on my sleeve, already feeling a bit of relief that the story is almost over.
“I took the first plane home and found out from the police that he had been gone for about twelve hours by the time the paramedics showed up. The calls that I ignored were him trying to tell me that he was having a heart attack. Apparently, an impending sense of doom is a warning sign, but neither of us knew that at the time.”
Cameron shakes his head, fully feeling the grief right alongside me as if it were his own.
“The autopsy seemed to suggest that he may not have made it even if he did call 9-1-1 instead of calling me, but there’s no way to tell. I think that he was too far gone to dial the numbers, so he just hit the number at the top of his call log over and over to ask for help, and it was my number, because I was the person that he talked to the most.”
I shake my head, disgusted with myself. “He didn’t call Scott even once, so that must be what happened. If I had answered, even if he couldn’t speak, I would have known something waswrong and walked off that plane. I could have called for help. I could have donesomething.”
This is usually the part where people fall over themselves to say that it’s not my fault, or there’s nothing I could have done, but Cameron doesn’t say any of that. He just swipes at his own cheek to wipe away the evidence of our shared sorrow. It gives me the strength to say the part that is always left unsaid out loud.
“I never should have gone. I should have stayed home and taken care of him. He was sick, for God’s sake. We could have still had ice cream even if we didn’t go out to shop for a used record. We could have watched Top Gun for the hundredth time. I could have been there.” My voice breaks with another sob. “But I wasn’t. I wasn’t there. And he died alone, because of me. The man who never faulted me for taking his wife away from him, the man who worked two jobs and still had holes in his shoes so that Scott and I could have the best life we could as a one-income family. The man who never believed that I was cursed and loved me with everything that he had, died. Alone. Because of me.Me. And no one else.”
Cameron’s phone rings loudly from across the room, and we both jump at the sound. He looks over at it like he might smash it to smithereens for interrupting my story and apologizes profusely as soon as it stops ringing.
“It’s fine,” I say. “That’s the end of the story, anyway.”
“Thank you for—” he starts but is interrupted when the phone rings again.
He looks back to me, conflicted because of the story I just told about missing an urgent phone call and not wanting to leave me alone. I smile weakly. “You’d better get that.”
He pushes himself up with a huff to answer it right before it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, Jalen, unless this is an emergency, then I’ll need to—” He stops, and when I look up to see why, I freeze at the panic that washes over his face. He turns his back to me and lowers his voice, but it still carries to where I sit. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Then, after a brief pause, “Tell them it’ll be an hour, at least. I need to make sure Drew eats first.”
He says goodbye to his brother and then turns back around to face me, trying and failing to put on a brave face.
“What is it?” I ask.
“That was Jalen. I guess they uncovered some new information and are insisting on doing another round of questioning.”
“Oh.” The words hit like a punch to the gut. “We have to go back?”
“No.” He rubs the back of his neck. “They are actually only requesting you this time.”
