“It was okay, I guess.” Her melancholy doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Well, okay is better than awful,” I retort, playfully nudging her arm with mine. “What did you do?”
“My parents and I drove up to Ft. Worth to see my grandparents, even though I didn’t want to go.”
“Why didn’t you want to go?”
“Too many memories,” she whispers.
I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her mid-stride. She looks up at me. “It’s okay to remember. Eventually, it does get better.”
I can sympathize with her. When my parents died, it was so hard to be in our house. Every corner I turned, I saw them. I’d walk into the kitchen and see my mom cooking, or laughing at something funny my Dad had said or done. I couldn’t even escape to the backyard, because I’d see my dad back there mowing the yard, and Mom standing on the deck holding up a glass of iced tea for him. But I couldn’t leave my house either—I didn’t want to. It was the only place where their presence and memories still lingered. In an odd way, our home tortured me and made me feel better at the same time.
“When? When does the pain go away? How do I make it go away?” Bailey asks, her voice thick with emotion, and her eyes filled with anguish.
“With time,” I whisper. “As far as how to make the pain go away, it never really does. It just lessens.” I shrug. “When my parents died, I felt…”
“Like your heart was ripped out?” she quietly asks.
I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. Like my heart had been ripped out. But it doesn’t feel that way anymore. I still miss them. So much. Every day. But after a while, my heart slowly pieced itself back together.” I squat down to her height and look her in the eyes. “You have to find something that makes you happy again, Bailey. For me, it was horses. That may not be the case with you, but you have to find something to bring you back to life.”
My eyes widen in shock when she lunges at me, throwing her arms around my neck, squeezing me to her. Gently, I hug her back. Under my hands, her back shudders from her soft cries, and my heart breaks for her. I softly stroke her hair and let her cry. Of all places, the middle of the yard in front of everyone is not where I wanted to have this talk. But if there’s one thing that I’ve learned, bottling up your emotions never gets you anywhere. So, if she wants to cry, right here, on my shoulder, then so be it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve broken down in the middle of a grocery store just by looking at a shopping cart. The memory of my mom pushing the buggy, and me standing on the end of it, would bring on the tears. I did it more to get a rise out of her than anything else, because I knew how much it annoyed the crap out of her.
We sit there for a few minutes longer when she finally pulls back, releasing her arms from around my neck. “Thank you, Kenleigh,” she croaks.
“If you ever need me, I’m here for you. Okay?” I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and hope that she really understands that I am here for her. She finally nods with an easy smile. “What do you wanna do today?”
“Can I hang out with John, if he’s not busy?” she asks as her smile starts reach her eyes.
“Whatever you want.”
When I stand up, Bailey turns around and rushes over to where John sits, laughing with some other kids while they all paint. I shove my hands into my back pockets, feeling elated that Bailey not only opened up to me willingly, but also sought comfort from me.
A piece of paper crackles in my hand. My smile widens when I remember what I found on my dresser when I woke up. I opened the neatly folded note; four honeysuckle flowers lay tucked tightly into the creases. In neat handwriting, it says:
A smile that reached from ear to ear spread across my face. I folded the note back to the way I found it, brought the piece of paper to my nose, and smelt the sweet fragrance before tucking it in my back pocket. My sweet, to the point Wes.
“Kenleigh! Kenleigh!” I look around to see who’s shouting my name when my eyes land on Sarah. I pull my hands out of my pockets and head in her direction.
“Hey, Sarah,” I offer as I approach the horse corral.
“Is there any way you could watch Isabel for a few minutes? I really need to use the–”
My hand flies up to stop her. “Too much… Just go, Sarah.” I laugh as she quickly introduces Isabel and me before she darts away.
I crouch down and wrap my arms around my knees before I look at Isabel. Her beautiful, long, black locks highlight her stunning light brown eyes and her dark tan complexion. “Are you having fun?” I ask, trying to make eye contact, but she just stares at the horses. “Did you like the art group this morning?”