“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. “I have to get Hannah home.”
Just like all of my other first, second, or third dates, it ends here. I wouldn’t visit a man in a nursing facility once a week if I didn’t love him, and it’s obvious to most.
“Thank you for dinner and asking me to come along tonight,” I tell him.
Brody turns the ignition off and hands me the key. “Oh, my pleasure. Seriously, though, thank you for joining us. I’m glad you came.” The nature of his personality has completely changed in the last few minutes, which I expected.
Brody steps out of the Jeep and opens the back door to wake up Hannah. She groans and sluggishly unclasps her seatbelt before ambling out the door. With Brody’s truck parked beside us, he opens the backdoor to switch vehicles easily. He watches Hannah secure her seatbelt and closes the door, starting the truck’s engine with a button on his key-fob. “Well, I’ll let you get home,” I tell him, standing a few feet away, holding my arms over my chest for warmth.
“Journey,” he says, taking a couple of steps in my direction. “Is your explanation about Adam intended to deter me from spending time with you, or is your life something I’m allowed to be a part of, but with a new level of understanding? I don’t want to misinterpret the situation.”
“I’m not sure if I have the answer to your question.” It’s honest. I haven’t felt a connection with anyone to give me enough reason to potentially hurt Adam by telling him I’ve met someone, but Brody has come closer than anyone else.
“All right. Maybe we both need some clarity. I don’t know how to find such a thing, but it seems like the only option, right?”
I shrug half-heartedly because I’ve been looking for clarity for a long time and can’t seem to find any. The only thing I feel is the need to apologize for not telling Brody all of this upfront, which would have been weird. There isn’t a good way to unleash the truth of my life without making someone run from me.
Brody leans toward me and grabs my arm, pulling me in to kiss me on the cheek. “Get some sleep. I’ll call you.”
I force a small smile. “Okay, goodnight.” It doesn’t take me long to make my way to the back door, and I walk in without looking to see if he was still watching and waiting for me to make it inside.
This is my punishment for causing another person’s turmoil.
My apartment feels darker than usual, more confining as I peel off layers of clothes, leaving them as breadcrumbs toward my bed. I wrap myself up in my blankets and crack the window, needing extra air. I tried not to let him into my head. I thought I was strong enough to control this part of my life.
Brody of all people would be the last person I could tell Adam about. Brody didn’t know much about Adam, nor would he know him this many years later if it wasn’t for me, but Adam knew of Brody because of his all-star football presence in the region. I think Adam would remember Brody for more reasons than finding me in a closet with him, but that’s beside the point.
I reach my hand between my pillowcase, pulling out the note Dad left for me in the wake of his death. He left Melody and I both life letters for the future for when he wouldn’t be around to give us fatherly advice. Each time I read the words; I find a new meaning I didn’t catch before.
I unfold the letter and hold it up the glow from the cloud-covered moon, hoping my heart will become numb to the first few lines, the more I read the words.
My Dearest Journey—my life-changing journey,
You aren’t the sentimental, sensitive little girl I once thought you were. For a long time, I waited for my stories about dragons and knights in armor to make you realize the type of strength you owned was the same as a knight fighting a dragon. You have always been relentless in everything you do, whether it may be devotion, love, or doing the right thing. Except once. This letter should be advice and words to make you understand and remember how much I love you, but this letter needs to do more than give my strong-willed daughter advice because I need to set you free, sweetheart.
I know you have secrets, ones you would take with you to your grave, seventy years from now. But, as a parent, sometimes it’s our job to learn about those secrets and keep them just as safe. Not every lesson in life needs to be a permanent reminder. I knew about your New Year’s Eve party, the one responsible for supplying alcohol to minors, which ultimately led to Adam’s accident. You told the world a different story to protect me and The Barrel House, and maybe I was as wrong as you for keeping the truth a secret, but I appreciate you trying to protect me even though it was my job to protect you. I don’t want you going through life, thinking you kept anything from me, and I don’t want you to feel guilty. Life is full of lessons—some good, some ugly, and very few in between. We take those lessons and apply them to our future, ensuring to do better and never repeat a mistake.
I have watched you devote years of your life to be the person with a heart larger than life. You get that from your mother, but your determination and will to never give up—that’s from me.
I won’t tell you what to do with your future because it’s your life and your choice, but I want you to know: you were born with a gift to see the fine details of beauty and color. Therefore, the decisions you make should never be black and white. Create a version of life unique to you, one just for you, then add the details, allow them to blend in and create a masterpiece you can be proud of.
Life is short, sweetie, but the journey from beginning to end is different for each of us, and though you think yours ended a long time ago, it has yet to start. Pieces will fall into place, and you will know when to continue forward, living for the meaning of your existence. You will be proud someday, and you will forgive yourself, but you need to navigate your way to that pin on your map.
If you feel lost, look up toward the stars because they’ll guide you back home. Plus, I’ll be up there, waiting with answers.
I love you, Journey.
So much.
—Dad
I wish his words offered more clarity tonight, but all I can assume is, I’m still waiting for the pieces to fall into place.
Tears fall from my eyes, ones I wish I had control over. Maybe no one will understand why I am the person I am, and if so, my pieces may look different from everyone else’s life.
I fold Dad’s note back up and place it back under my pillowcase and roll over to stare up at the sky, wishing there were fewer clouds tonight because I’m feeling lost.
