The Refrain (The Bridge Series) (14 page)

November . . .

I
SIT ON
the chintz sofa.

I stare straight ahead at the stone fireplace.

I bob my head to strangers offering kind smiles.

Mom sits next to me on the couch and cradles me in her bosom like a child. My head rests on her shoulder as I emit agonizing shrieks of sadness. Big fat, sobbing tears. My eyes explode, my heart disintegrates and my dreams shatter.

Simultaneously. Repetitively. Painfully.

“Oh baby girl, please don’t hurt. Give me your pain, I’m your mother.” Mom strokes my head as my tears bleed onto her silk shirt. There’s blood everywhere, but who’s bleeding? Where am I? Why am I here?

“Natalie, come with me.” I hear the familiar voice of my cousin, but I only see her hand. I take her hand. I’m incapable of forming any speech. “We’ll be right back, Aunt Judy.”

Chloe squeezes my hand tightly. But who is squeezing my chest? We walk to a bathroom. I’ve been in here before – when I was alive. The door shuts and it vibrates through my emptiness, ringing inside my hollow chamber like a gothic church bell.

I hear running water and I desperately want to jump in and suffocate. I’d rather have water flowing through my body than the never-ending emptiness. A cool rag burns my skin. I slap at her hand, screaming and shaking.

“Nat, Nat!” Chloe’s arms wrap around me tightly and for a brief second, I feel love. And then it’s gone.

“Natalie. This is not going to be easy. Love is never easy. And you’ve been dealt a really shitty hand . . . but I promise you, things will get better. Let me love you. Let me help you.” Her fingers swipe the tears scorching my face. I can finally see.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“That’s better.” Chloe continues to clean my face with the damp cloth. “Do you ever think about how lucky Zach was – to have met you? A beautiful, smart, funny girl that made this past year bearable. You always talk about how much he sacrificed for you, but think about what you did for him.”

What I did for him? I was just a silly girl that made him laugh.

“Natalie, you gave him friendship, the pure and honest kind. You gave him hope. You gave Zach a reason to live during dark times – and you loved him.”

“I – I – loved him so much. I’ll never be able to tell him. He’s gone . . .”

“Shh, look at me, sweetie. Zach knew you loved him.”

“But I have nothing without him.” I gasp for air.

“Oh Natalie, you have the greatest of things – you have a purpose. You have a responsibility to honor the love you were lucky enough to experience. Let him live inside you. Let him live among the stars. Don’t bury Zach in your sorrow.”

“I’m so weak, Chloe. I can’t seem to string thoughts together. I’m scared.”

“I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. Give
me
your burdens.”

Chloe pulls out a brush from her purse and begins to comb my hair. Long, soft strokes – relaxing me, comforting me.

“Now, we’re going out there to show the world how brave Zach Parker makes us feel. We’re going out there to follow our dreams and open our hearts to endless possibilities. We will honor our friend and we will do it together. Are you ready?”

“No,” I say.

“Good. Let’s face the world together.”

Chloe manages to lead me through the dozens of mourners, chit-chatting quietly about anything but Zach. People grieve differently I suppose, but the price of stocks seems so irrelevant. I take a glass of wine from the waiter and chug it down.

“Hey, take it easy,” Chloe whispers.

I take another glass of wine and sip it slowly with my pinky high in the air. When Chloe’s not looking, I throw it back in one long gulp. She’s still holding my hand but her grip loosens and her palm suddenly feels clammy. “Oh fuck. Shit. Fuck me,” she snarls under her breath.

I look in the direction of her startled gaze and see Raymond Parker. Raymond Parker shaking Adam Ford’s hand –
holy shit!
Did I say that out loud?

He walks toward us, handsome as ever but with the addition of dark circles under cloudy eyes. Chloe lowers her head and tries to pull me in the other direction.

Adam places his hand on my arm. “Natalie, I had no idea. It seems I’ve been wrong a lot lately.” Adam glances at Chloe and then back at me. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love and I know how it feels to be watched when you grieve. But there are people who truly care about you – don’t close them off.” The magnitude of this moment is so weird and yet amazingly comfortable. I believe Adam’s sincerity, and I know he would do anything to help me. If not for me, then because he’s hopelessly in love with Chloe.

“Er, thanks. But why are you here?” I ask.

Adam glances at Chloe before answering. “My firm represents Raymond Parker – I represent Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, well that’s fucking fantastic!”

“I’m sorry?” Adam’s tone is defensive yet apologetic.

An internal debate about whether I should air the Parker laundry swirls through my limited consciousness. Am I really here? Is this an actual conversation? Zach would want me to drop it.

Zach’s former attorney and friend taps my shoulder. “Natalie.” Jack opens his arms and I embrace his kindness. It was just a year ago that we stood in this same room after Claire’s funeral.

“It’s nice to see you, Jack. You remember Chloe, my cousin? And this is Adam Ford, a friend.” Jack nods hello to Chloe and extends his hand to Adam.

“Natalie, we have some things to discuss regarding Zach’s will – can you swing by my office later this week?” Jack waits for my response.

“His will? I don’t understand,” I say.

“It’s customary that I meet with the beneficiaries when money is involved. I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t. And I don’t want money. Where’s his stuff?” My tone is harsh and offensive – not directed at anyone particular, it’s just the anger seeping through my veins.

“His stuff? Now I’m confused. There weren’t any specific items listed in his will besides Claire’s wedding ring.”

“Where are his clothes, his camera, and his letters . . . where are my letters?” My palms are sweaty as I bring them to my neck. I grasp my necklace, fidgeting uncomfortably in front of all these people. Chloe wraps her arm around my shoulder, but I push her away.

“His personal effects were catalogued and sent to Raymond. They customarily go to the next of kin.”

“Raymond Parker has my letters? Well that’s fucking awesome!” I’m sick. I want to throw up. I want to scream. I want to . . .

“Nat,” Chloe begs.

Sensing my growing hostility, Jack says, “Natalie, I’d be happy to ask Raymond for the contents of Zach’s footlocker, is that what you want?”

“No. I’ll do it.” I storm off from the three of them before they can stop me. Chloe chases behind me and tries to grab my hand. When I reach Raymond, I give the young woman he’s speaking to an evil glare. She takes the hint and leaves with her slutty face between her legs.

“Raymond – I want Zach’s footlocker and all of the personal effects that belong to me.”

“Natalie, you’ve always been a little too forthcoming for my taste. You can’t walk into my house and demand things – it doesn’t work like that.” Raymond glares at me with contempt.

Chloe tries to settle the tension by defending me. “She’s just emotional and . . .”

Before Chloe can finish her sentence, Adam appears at my side and calmly interjects. “Mr. Parker, Natalie is a friend of mine and I agree with her request for the things that belonged to her. There were sentimental objects that were personal between the two of them, and you really have no need for letters and mementos.” Adam smiles but Raymond rolls his eyes. He’s so fucking childish and he knows it.

“Mr. Ford, I would gladly hand over whatever it is that she feels entitled to, but the truth is, I don’t have anything. Now, if you three will excuse me, there are guests that need my attention.”

Oh yeah, I’m sure of it. Like the little hussy in the red dress at a fucking funeral.

“Mr. Parker.” Adam says firmly. “Please keep me updated on Ms. LeGrange’s request.”

Raymond furrows his brow and stares at me, demeaning me and quite frankly, making me feel like shit. Adam places a hand on Raymond’s shoulder and shakes his head. Raymond returns Adam’s serious gesture by frowning in disdain. The tension is fucking unbearable, but I can conclude that I would not want to be the victim of Adam’s fury.

And then, Raymond reaches inside the pocket of his suit jacket like he’s pulling out a concealed weapon. All of the sudden, he whips out a 3 x 5 photo of a teenager with a horrible haircut. What a freak!

“Here, this picture was in Zach’s pocket. I assume it’s you.” Raymond sneers.

Oh my fucking god. Raymond passes me a photo of myself from the seventh grade – the time I decided that I could trim my bangs into a nice straight edge. It’s horrible – I look like Oliver Twist in a purple sweater. I flip it over to the back and find two inscriptions:

Natalie’s bangs debacle of ’92 ~ Judy

And,

Ma femme ~ never apologize for being you.

Only Zach would find humor in my stubborn craziness and only Zach would love me for being me.

I couldn’t stand the haunting silence, let alone sleep in my parent’s house. Without waking Chloe, I put on my sneakers and wander to a nearby park in my pajamas. It’s freezing – a sign of the desolate winter that’s in store. But nights like this also bring clarity among a star-filled sky. I pick a bench near the playground and pull my arms inside my shirt. I used to love flapping my sweatshirt arms like a penguin, but now it just seems pointless – lots of things seem pointless.

“Zach!” I scream at the stars. “Why? Am I being punished? Why – why were you taken from me?” The tears start to roll down my face. My skin is raw and chafed and every drop stings like acid – but I would spend an eternity with acidic tears and horrible hair if I could just tell him goodbye.

Do you hear me, God?

I guess I expect some sort of flicker of light, some poetic justice to a crappy week. A sign of any kind, something to give me hope. I look around at the quiet streets of a place where our souls connected. Nothing.

I gaze at the sky twinkling with stars. Nothing.

I clutch my necklace and force my eyes shut . . .

Rien.

C
HLOE