Second Chance

Chapter 3-A Reese

I knew I would have to see Steve again, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. Yet that is how things went. At least the bandage is ripped off. He looked amazing, but uncomfortable seeing me.

His black hair is currently long and shaggy. I remembered how I used to love running my fingers through his hair when we were kissing. Sometimes it was short, but I preferred it when he let it grow out a bit, and it would start to curl like it is now. He had bulked up a little. He must be working out. He was on the small, skinny side before. Now his shoulders are broader, and you can see his shirt is strained a bit by his muscles.

It's hard to imagine that this is the man I spent most of my high school years dating. I knew him better than anyone, and he knew me back then probably better than I knew myself. Our whole lives revolved around each other back then.

I was in the band, and he was on the football team. So I was at every game, but my attention was always on him. We would go out almost every weekend. He took me to every homecoming dance, prom, and our Senior prom.

When I realized we wanted different things, and it wasn’t fair to him to continue our relationship, I knew it wouldn't last. So I ended things. Do I regret that? No, I don’t. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss him, and I wish things had been different.

Yet he wanted to stay close to home. He went to college nearby and planned to return. I heard he struggled to be away for college, even though he was only 2 hours away, and he finished his degree at an online school so he could be here in our hometown.

I wanted out of here. I couldn’t wait to shake the dust of this town off my feet. My mom always says my brother Nathan and I are like our dad. He never wanted to be “stuck” in a small town, as he would say. He wanted to travel. He wanted to see new places. I had his wanderlust.

Even as a small child, I saw how the different views of the future tore apart my parents' marriage and how it left my brothers and me hurting. No way would I take the risk of doing that to Steve, let alone for one of us to figure out this wasn’t working after having kids? I did him a favor, even if it broke my heart.

Of course, now that I'm back home, I have to face him for the next few days. I suppose I should determine how long I'll be staying, so I can figure out how to avoid him. Not that I can fully do that, as I am sure he will be at the funeral, but I can try to avoid him.

I take the casserole into the kitchen. Mom is already up and making breakfast for Jason, whom we often call Jace. It is so normal to see her making toast and oatmeal for him. “Can you make Kylie a bottle?” she asks me. “She should be up soon.” I put the dish in the fridge.

“Debbie sent over a casserole for us,” I tell my mom.

“That was sweet of her. "I guess we should be ready for an onslaught of food to be delivered.” Mom sighs. Linda's gesture was a reminder that this was not a normal morning, and the kids were not there just to spend the night with Grandma.

“I suppose you are right. Have you heard from Logan this morning?” I hate how heavy the air feels in the kitchen since I mentioned the food. I never knew the air could feel heavy from stress and grief. I always thought that was just a saying. Yet now the air feels like this heavy coat on my shoulders.

“He called and said they were on the road. Joanie’s parents plan to rent a car in town, and Logan asked if one of us could accompany them to the funeral home. It sounds like he is afraid of some type of confrontation at the funeral home, so he wants someone who can help speak for Joanie. Do you want to go or do you want to stay with the kids?”

I can see the pain in my mother’s words as she speaks. I am not aware of the whole story, but I can see the strain in my mother’s eyes when she mentions going to the funeral home.

“I will go to the funeral home,” I offer. It seems like the best idea at this point. I know my niece and nephew, but I haven’t spent a lot of time with them, and not alone, so I don’t know their routines. This week will be hard enough for them without me making it worse.

Mom seems relieved to hear my answer. I am not sure if she has the same thoughts as I do or if she is afraid of going to the funeral home. I hope I'm not getting myself into a messy situation, because one way I'm like my mother is that I hate confrontation.

I hate that Logan is even preparing mentally for the idea of some issues at the funeral home. Yet I have heard death tends to bring out the worst in some people, so maybe he is preparing because of that.

Logan came to pick me up. He is silent the entire car ride. Again, all I can think about is how heavy the air feels.

My brother appears to have aged 10 years since I saw him in March. It is hard to see. The bags under his eyes, the worry and strain are evident on his face. His hair is usually perfect, yet right now, the brown hair is messed up, as if he didn’t even bother to comb it this morning.

I want to say something, but what do you say? He has just lost his wife, and they had been together since high school. They got married right after college. Then, 4 years later, they had Jace. Four years later, they had Kylie. She is 6 months old.

Now he is left to raise them on his own, without the love of his life. They were together for 15 years. Now she is gone. I take a good look at him, and his eyes are shiny with the tears he is fighting not to let go of.

We arrive at the funeral home. Right before we go to enter, he freezes. It's as if he can't move. Then I heard the crying start. It is not quite crying, more like uncontrollable sobs. I reach up, and I wrap my arms around my brother to give him the best hug I can. He leans his head onto my shoulder and cries for a few minutes.

I'm at a loss for words. What can one say? I feel like I should say something. So I say the only thing I can. “Understand you are not alone. I am here for you, big brother.” As I do, it is like the damn that was holding back my emotions breaks and I am now crying. I wanted to try to avoid this. I didn’t want to cry in front of him because I wanted to be strong, but instead, we were both holding each other in a hug and crying.

We hear a car behind us, and it's as if a switch has been flipped. Logan takes a deep breath, wipes his tears away, and stands up tall. Ready to face whatever is next. Turns out the car is the sedan his in-laws are renting. You can see the strain of the day also on their faces.

I don’t know Joanie’s parents well. I met them a few times over the years, but when I was younger, I really didn’t care to know them. They were my brother’s in-laws, and then they moved to Florida not long after Logan and Joanie were married. Yet I know them well enough to recognize the strain.

Joanie’s mom, Jean, was always the type who had to be perfectly put together; yet, today she appears as though she just threw on some clothes. She always wore perfect makeup, and today she is only wearing lipstick. Her dad’s hair is as messy as Logan's, and his tie is not straight like I am used to.

I can’t fathom what it must be like to lose a child. I don’t care how old your child is, a parent is not supposed to bury their child. They both take turns greeting me and hugging Logan. Hopefully, this won’t be as bad as Logan fears.