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The hard leather of the couch pressed
against my cheek, the sun glaring off the glass table and into my eyes.
I slowly raised my head, my cheek sticking to the leather at first. I
was lying on my side though I don’t even remember shifting, and through
my pajamas I had goose bumps all over. John mustn’t have turned on the
heating in his house yet. Today was the fifth of November. A day I dread
more than any day of the year, a day I wished I could just skip over.
John was up; I heard him talking on the phone with someone as usual. He
sounded more genuine than if he were talking to one of his clients,
though. I could tell by his honesty that it had to be Emera.
“Seven? …Yeah, it’s quite the drive,” he was saying. “…I was thinking
tacos or pasta.” I heard him shuffling about in the fridge.
I rubbed my temples and slowly sat up straight, feeling the cold wood
flooring against my feet.
I paced into the kitchen, grasping at my cold bare arms. A tank top was
not the greatest thing to wear this time of year.
John was still in his pajamas as well; this was a first. Something about
his strong back and his unawareness of me being in the room made me want
to go over to him. I slowly meandered over, listening to his
conversation with Emera. He had shut the fridge now, his back still to
me, one of his arms on the counter in front of him.
“I’m glad you had fun, honey.”
I now stood directly behind him, my arm wandering up to his shoulder and
gripping the hood of his sweater zip-up. His warmth was like my own
personal heater, the hairs on my arms standing up from the drastic
change in temperature. He didn’t turn around, but instead jerked his
head to the side a little to see me from the corner of his eye. He tried
to shake me off gently but I didn’t withdraw. He continued talking with
Emera still, as if nothing was happening.
“I took him out to breakfast at Donnie’s. We ate there, it was nice.
Actually I have more to discuss, but I won’t start it over the phone.”
I slowly pulled the sweater off his shoulders with both of my hands. He
finally got what I was getting at so he slithered out of the sweater,
exposing a black t-shirt underneath that hugged his muscles ever so
slightly. He had to transfer the phone to the other hand to do this, but
still he stayed talking to Emera.
“He’s been good, yeah,” John said, turning now to face me.
I felt him staring but I just slipped on his large grey sweater, letting
it hang over my knuckles. The warmth made all the tiny bumps disappear,
as well as cause a shiver to crawl up my spine. I zipped it up and
shoved my hands in the pockets, pretending to be oblivious to John now.
I opened the fridge and took out some milk for the cereal he had lying
in the cupboard.
By the time he was off the phone I was halfway through my cereal.
“If you were cold you should have just told me. I could have gotten you
a sweater from the linen closet.”
I just chewed the crunchy cereal, examining each spoonful before it
entered my mouth. “When’s Emera getting back?”
“Seven tonight. The drive is a few hours and she’s having lunch with the
girls there.”
I nodded casually. “So… five days, right?”
“Sorry?”
“For your trip. There are five days left.”
“I suppose.” John sat on the stool in front of me. He decided to change
the subject. “Do you want to meet Rafael today? I called him, he’s not
busy.”
“No,” I said, eating another spoonful of cereal.
“Said you could stop by the shop.”
“I don’t want to.”
John frowned at me and sighed. “Why not?”
“We could do that when Emera’s here. Wouldn’t she want to see her
brother?”
“She sees him often enough.” He paused. “Shuro, what’s wrong?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, quit babying me, I really don’t feel like hearing
that right now.”
“Well I can’t help you if you don’t want to tell me what the matter is.”
I slammed my spoon down into the bowl. “There you go again! Why do you
think something’s wrong all the time? Is it not alright for me to just
have an off day?”
John showed no emotion, his face staring blankly and listening to my
words.
“No, I guess not. You wouldn’t know. You always have to keep it together
all the time, be a good lawyer and counselor for broken kids, do this,
do that, help your clients win a case.” I was raising my voice from all
the fury inside me. “When in fact you’re just fooling yourself, John.
Because you know what?”
Still John just watched me. I stood out of the stool now, unable to
contain any more.
“Because you’re a shitty counselor! You don’t help anyone get better!” I
slammed my fists against the table. “I’ve been with you two years…” I
stepped away from the table, taking a few steps back. “And it looks like
these memories aren’t going anywhere.” I turned and walked toward the
front door, slipping on my shoes. When I opened up the door and let in a
cool breeze, John spoke up.
“Where are you going?” He stood and started to try to stop me, but I
left, pulling the door shut behind me.
The reason why I left that day was too complex to try to explain, but it
sure wasn’t because of John. I secretly hoped he knew that as I hopped
on a bus out of the city. The air was getting cooler and dryer; a sign
that winter was on its way. There was only one place on the earth I
wanted to be right now, and the fact that I knew I was on my way there
made my muscles relax and my head clear.
• • •
Stepping on the lot was like playing god, passing so many names and
stories. She was further down, but I never minded the walk. There was no
one else around, only the cool air biting at my ears and the occasional
bird song in the distance. Passing the stone scribes one after another
brought back memories of a few years ago, when I used to sit in the
grass for hours on end, even fall asleep sometimes, just listening for
the slightest sound or whisper in the wind.
Finally, the name that made the nerves in my body jolt, the name that
impaired my senses, the name that was only spoken on my lips with warmth
and pride, appeared in sight. It read “Julianne Morrison”.
I sat in front of the gravestone, my hood keeping me warm. I just sat
there, my legs folded, my hands in my pockets. I felt like talking to
her sometimes, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. It was
comforting just to know that she was there with me in some form. I
wondered what she would do if she were still here now. She would tell me
to stay strong, only for myself, and to never look back at the wrong
things that have happened to me or that I have done. She once told me
that life is too short to live in the past, and that it’s constantly
changing. She would tell me that now.
I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t budge.
“You could have told me it was today,” said a gentle voice I recognized
easily.
I was silent for a while, staring ahead of me. “You followed me?”
John walked in closer so that he was standing directly behind me. “I
followed you.”
I rested my head on my palm. “After what I said?” The wind blew, though
the air was still silent around us. We spoke in almost whispers so as
not to break it.
“I’ve been called a lousy counselor before,” John said.
“By who?”
“You.”
I smiled faintly behind my palm.
I heard John’s footsteps behind me walking away. I turned to see where
he was going, and saw that he sat on a bench further away, looking off
in another direction. I smiled at that. Just knowing that he was there
was good enough for me, and he appreciated the fact that I wanted to be
alone with my mother.
I sat there for at least another half-hour, just thinking about
everything. I couldn’t help it, but I even spoke to her in my mind a few
times, hoping she would get my message somewhere telepathically, though
I highly doubted it. It was just an easier way to get my thoughts out.
He let me take my time, and didn’t mention the slightest thing about
leaving until I dusted myself off and stood, turning to face him.
When we arrived back at the loft it was late afternoon. John’s phone
immediately rang as soon as he entered the house, as usual. I was
starting to get annoyed of it now. I immediately gravitated towards the
kitchen and opened up the pantry in search of something to warm my
insides with.
“Of course, Barry. Come over immediately and we will discuss this into
further detail.”
I pulled out a powder mix for hot apple cider and started to boil some
water.
John clicked his phone shut and walked over to the sink to wash his
hands. “A client is going to be visiting me. I hope you don’t mind. You
can just go on my laptop or stay in the backyard for a bit.”
I scratched my cheek. “But you’re not even working today. That’s kind of
lame that you have to work on your days off. It defeats the whole
purpose of even having days off.”
He dried his hands and turned to face me and sighed. “Well, sometimes
you have to make exceptions.”
I realized he didn’t only mean with Barry. He was referring to me too. I
felt guilty and selfish at that moment, but instead of doing something
smart like apologizing, I turned and stirred the mix in to my cup of
boiled water.
“How about I call Rafael over and he can get to know you?”
I rolled my eyes and continued stirring. “Whatever, John.”
John moved closer to me and within seconds had his hand on the counter
and his chest brushing my shoulder. “Come on, look at me.”
My eyes lay heavily fixed on my ceramic mug and I stopped stirring. I
turned slowly and looked up at his freshly shaved cheeks and piercing
blue eyes. Just then and without a word he pulled me into an embrace so
tight I could feel his heart beating slow and steadily beneath his thick
sweater. The warmth was like I had suddenly stepped into a sauna after a
bitter cold day, and I could feel my muscles calming just as he held me.
My arms were glued to my sides and I just stood there, shocked yet
utterly comforted and strangely drained. I breathed into the soft cotton
of his sweater, shutting my eyes and smelling his sweet cologne.
“Your mother would have been so proud of you, you know that?” He
whispered.
“For what?” I whispered back.
“For being so brave.” |
