Unbreakable (22 page)

My laptop is at Luke’s apartment, but I won’t let her leave without telling her exactly how I feel. Opening the desk drawer, I pull out some paper and a pen. Pushing the stacks of notebooks aside, I start writing. She may be leaving, but she will never be able to run from my heart.

“Jess, I know you think this is a good idea, and I promised you that I wouldn’t tell anyone where you’re going, but are you
really
sure this is what you want to do?” Dad asks quietly. I stare at him and all I see in his eyes is regret. I don’t want to regret my life.

“Dad, I have to do this. I have to move forward, and I can’t do that here. There is too much pain here. I’m suffocating,” I say, my voice void of any emotion.

Dad nods his head slowly in agreement. “You going to go say goodbye,” he says, shifting his head back in the direction of the Garcia house across the street. My eyes sting with the tears forming in my eyes, and the large lump in my throat will barely allow me to talk.

“I did last night.” I think about Gabe in Heather’s arms, the yelling, and the breaking bottles. “It didn’t go so well.”

With a deep sigh, dad walks toward me and pulls me into a tight hug. I can’t remember the last time he touched me, let alone hugged me. Dad doesn’t show his emotions, he’s the master of disguise when it comes to displaying any emotion. I snuggle my head into the crook of his neck and let the man, the father I barely know, hold me and comfort me for the first time in fourteen years. He didn’t hug me after I was raped. He didn’t hold me when I young and sick with a fever, but today, I let him hug me, and I try to bury the anger I have toward him and simply find comfort in his arms.

The hug is warm, and caring, and loving, and exactly what I need from him. This is confirmation that after everything I’ve been through in the last eight weeks, that he does love me and supports me and my decision. Dad pulls out of our embrace first, grabbing both of my cheeks like I’m a little girl again. Raising my head so that I’m looking at him in the eyes, he says, “I’m so proud of you. You are the strongest person I know. I mean that. I’m so blessed that you are my daughter. Your mom would be so…” He pauses while collecting his thoughts. “…so proud of you. You remind me so much of her, Jess. Your mannerisms, your laugh, even the way you walk. You are exactly like her,” his voice breaks.

This is progress for him. In fourteen years he has never talked to me about her. When I was young I would ask him questions, and he always found a way to distract me and not talk about her. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he guides me to my car, giving firm instructions to call every three hours from the road and every time I stop for gas. Giving him one last hug, I slide into the driver’s seat and buckle my seatbelt.

Backing out of the driveway, I will myself not to look in the rearview mirror at the house across the street, the house that holds my heart. But I do. Out of my side mirror, I see him sitting on his front step. His head is hanging, and his arms are resting on his knees. With a deep breath, I put the car in drive, wave to my dad, and head east, hoping for the strength and sanity to start over while a small piece of my heart dies as I see Gabe grow smaller in my rearview mirror.

Exhaustion does not even begin to explain what I’m feeling. I just spent three days driving from coast to coast, literally—Pacific Ocean to Atlantic Ocean. Arriving in Wilmington, North Carolina, I head straight to the TV station where I will be interning. I am meeting my new boss, Kevin, for the first time. He is renting his small, mostly furnished condo to me. Kevin is also the General Manager of the TV station where I will be spending most of my time working and building my resume.

The TV station is a small local affiliate. This means I’ll be working long days for no pay, but walking away with a shit-ton of experience. I won’t be just serving coffee and answering phones. I’m actually welcoming the long hours as a form of distraction, a mental health break from the chaos that is consuming my head.

Pulling into the parking lot of WXZI, I pull into the first open spot marked ‘visitor.’ Shifting my SUV into park, I roll up the window and flip my visor down. Taking a long look at myself in the mirror, I assess the damage. Fortunately, I travel well. I don’t look awful, just tired.

I grab my purse and pull out my lip-gloss, smoothing it over my lips. I tussle my hair to give it a little body and decide that this is as good as it’s going to get for a Tuesday afternoon.

I open my car door and slide out. My legs are stiff from the last six hours of driving, so I stop to stretch a bit. As I make my way towards the large glass doors of the station, I find the main doors are locked. Noticing a small callbox on the brick to the right of the entrance, I push the button, and a man answers, “WXZI, how can I help you?”

I take a quick breath and announce, “This is Jessica Harper. I’m here to see Kevin Lincoln. He’s expecting me.”

There is a moment of silence, and I’m wondering if I’ve been disconnected from the man in the box, when I hear, “I’ll buzz you right in, Ms. Harper.” Just then, I hear the doors click and buzzing coming from the callbox.

Pulling the doors open into a small lobby, I step inside noticing a main desk, but no one is behind it. Standing there for a minute, I take in my surroundings. There are plush, leather chairs in the lobby, along with small side tables and lots of green plants. It’s a modern lobby for such a small station, and I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. Just then, a wooden door to the left of the lobby opens, and a man in his late forties or early fifties enters the lobby quickly. I smile and offer my hand as he does at the same time.

“I’m Jessica Harper,” I say with a big smile.

“I’m Kevin Lincoln.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say with a firm handshake.

“Likewise, Jessica. I’ve got about ten minutes before I need to be back in the studio, but let me get you the keys to the condo and show you your desk.”

I’m thankful that I’m getting a short tour of the station. Kevin has agreed to let me start next Monday to give me a few days to get settled at the condo and get acclimated to my new city.

“Here is where you’ll be sitting” Kevin points to an empty grey desk. There is nothing except a black multi-line phone and notepad on the desk. “We’ll get you all set up on Monday. I have a computer coming, and we’ll get you some supplies.”

Glancing around the small newsroom, I notice there are several empty desks, but most are full of computers and notepads and personal pictures. For the first time in months, my stomach does a little flip, and I feel butterflies of excitement. As we walk through the newsroom to the large corner office, which is Kevin’s, I stop in the doorway. Kevin walks to his desk and grabs an envelope. As he’s walking back to me, he’s talking at the same time. “I’ll introduce you to everyone on Monday morning. Be here at eight thirty sharp.”

As Kevin hands me the envelope, he starts going over the contents. “The keys to the condo are in there, along with the address. It’s right on the beach. You’ll love it. Call me if you have any questions once you get there. Oh, and your badge for the office is in there. Don’t lose it. It will get you in the front doors at all hours. Most of the time, we don’t have a receptionist. Oh, and Janet asked me to give you a phone number. It’s on the yellow sticky note inside the envelope.”

Kevin looks down at his desk as he’s saying that. Janet is my academic advisor and Kevin’s sister. She is also the person who pulled off this internship in record time. I nod my head at Kevin and give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Kevin, thank you for giving me a chance. I know that I’m a liability and have no experience, so I appreciate your kindness.” Kevin nods politely at me, and I turn to make my way out of his office.

“See you Monday,” I say, flashing him a smile, hoping he’ll believe how grateful I truly am.

“See you Monday,” he replies with a small sigh.

After finishing my letter, I seal the envelope and walk across the street to Jess’ house. I see Chiefs truck is gone, so I can only assume he is at the station. Standing on the front porch, my mind races while I talk myself in and out of giving her this letter. My heart gets the better of me, and I reach into the hanging flowerpot and find the spare key.

Inserting the key into the front door, I turn the doorknob and push the door open quietly. There are no lights on in the house. Closing the door behind me, I use the backlight from my phone to search out Jess’ purse.

Seeing her purse on the counter, I cross the living room floor to the granite island that separates the kitchen from the living room. I open her bag and push the letter to the bottom. I set her wallet, keys, and sunglasses on top of the letter and close her bag. Standing there, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I glance around the empty living room and down the hall that leads to her room.

Before I even have time to think, my feet are quietly shuffling down the hallway. Her bedroom door is cracked open. Pushing the door open slightly, I stick my head in. The blinds are open and, the moon lights up her room. My beautiful girl lies on top of her comforter, curled so tightly in the fetal position that her forehead is almost resting on her knees, and her arms are wrapped around her legs. I can hear her small, shallow breaths telling me she is asleep.

Crossing her bedroom floor, I see a few small boxes resting at the foot of her bed. Most of her room has been packed up with only a few pictures remaining on a bulletin board above her desk. I gently pull the blanket from the bottom of her bed and place it over her curled up body. Watching her sleep was one of my favorite things to do, the look of contentment on her face, the way her lips twitch when she dreams. I’d lay with her, wrapped in my arms, and watch her sleep for hours. Those memories now nearly kill me as I lie in my cold bed alone every night. Leaning down I brush her soft brown hair gently on the pillow and softly plant one last kiss on top of her head as I whisper, “I love you,” one last time.

Closing the door behind me, I lock it and place the hidden key back in the planter. The back of my eyes sting with the tears that I’ve been fighting back as I walk away from her house for the last time. Ava is sitting on our front steps, waiting for me all bundled up with a blanket wrapped around her.

“What are you doing up?” I ask her quietly, knowing that it’s well past two o’clock in the morning.

“I came to your room to talk to you and see how you were, but you were gone. I knew you could have only gone one place, so I waited for you,” she answers quietly.

Exhaling a deep breath, I stand with my hands tucked into my pockets. I have been so wrapped up in my own emotions that I forgot that Ava is losing her best friend when Jess leaves tomorrow.

“How are you holding up?” I ask as Ava shrugs underneath the blanket she’s wrapped in.

“I just wish she would talk to me, that’s all. I just want to understand why she’s leaving and where she’s going,” she says.

“Me too, Ava. Me too.”

“What were you doing over there?”

“I stuck a letter in her purse.”

“You broke into her house to put a letter in her purse?”