Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

“The one? Like marry kind of one? Hell, I don’t even know if he’s Mr. Right Now. How do you know him?” I glance down at our legs. I have on shorts but she’s wearing black yoga pants with a neon yellow line down the side.

“I saw you with him.”

She did? “I’ve missed you.” I’m not sure why, I saw her a couple of nights ago, didn’t I?

“Holly, don’t shut down. You get scared for people to know the burdens you carry, but sometimes we all need someone to help us when we’re weighed down. His name is Tate and he’ll help you. I really think he’s going to be good for you.”

“I don’t want to talk about him. I’ve missed you so much. Where have you been Andy? I’ve called you but you haven’t called me back. I saw you at Burger Shack with a girl who didn’t look familiar. Are you mad at me?”

“No, Holly, why would I be mad at you?” Andy turns sideways on the swing, tucking one leg under the other. I notice she has the Paramore t-shirt on from the concert we went to when we were fifteen.

“You left me. Andy, you died.” I finally say the words, admitting she’s gone. I’m dreaming. This feeling, the one that fills the hole in my heart to make me complete again is going to be empty once I open my eyes. This is the part where I wake up and I’ll mourn the loss of her all over again.

She smiles at me and pats my thigh. “Holly, don’t worry, you’re doing a great job. Your dad is a troubled soul, but you’re amazing. Tate is good for you, trust me, I know these things. When you see my mom, please hug her tight for me. She cries too much. The train is coming.”

“You’ll always be my best friend. Please don’t leave me, I don’t want to do this thing called life without you.” The color drains away from the porch as the sound of a train’s horn gets louder and louder. “Will I see you again?”

“I’m always with you. I’ll visit. Bye Holly-my-lollipop,” she uses the secret name she gave me when we met.

“Bye, Dandy-Andy, I love you.”

A big black train with a stack for the smoke to escape pulls up into the yard. Andy and I stand and I hug her, only I don’t want to let go. The hole is void of her, and I’m alone again. Gone. She’s gone.

A sobbing sound wakes me from my fitful sleep. I sit straight up in bed, as I glance around my room I’m reminded of my visit. That’s what I call dreams when they’re so vivid. It’s like she was really here and now I’m reminded it was only a dream.

I take my stuffed cat that she gave me and throw it against the wall. My head drops forward and I cry into my pillow. Somehow the dreams comfort me, as though she’s really there, but then the same damn train shows up and the pain returns. I’ve had dreams about her since she died, sometimes they come every night, but lately it is only once a week or two.

The clock reads eight. Dad should be up taking care of his garden by now. I throw on a pair of running shorts, from my days of running track in school, and grab my flip flops.

He’s sitting on the back porch drinking a glass of iced tea. Oklahoma doesn’t care about what time of day it is, the temperature is already over ninety. “Hi Dad, are you ready for your meds?”

“I’m not sure they’re working, I think I’m getting better on my own. I feel fine and I haven’t had a pill in over twelve hours. We should save the money and quit buying the pills.” Here he goes, now he’ll tell me a story about a guy he knows who was misdiagnosed. The bargaining part of his illness gets under my skin. Sometimes, I want to slap him silly. I’d never do that, but damn, it would be therapeutic.

“Dad, you’re not misdiagnosed. You feel better because the pills are working. We can discuss your concerns to the doctor during your next visit.”

“What are you doing today?” Dad runs his hand through his once pitch black hair. Now it has streaks of gray that sparkle in the morning sun.

“I’m going to stop by and visit with Linda, she’s been asking me to come over. Afterwards, I’m going to go get a pedicure with Bethany and check the store. I have dinner plans later on,” there I said it. I take a deep breath waiting for him to go over the edge.

“Dinner plans? With a male friend?” He doesn’t seem to mind that I have a date. Maybe this medicine is helping him more than I thought.

I’m terrible with my poker face. “Yes, a male friend. I met him the other night at the book store.” He doesn’t need to know that he was playing music.

“I’m glad, you should get out more with people your age. How old is he?”

“Twenty-one. We went down to Bricktown yesterday and enjoyed getting to know each other.”

“That’s good. He didn’t try to take advantage of you did he? I hope he was a perfect gentleman.” These moments are far and few between, when we can talk like a father and daughter.

It would be more me taking advantage of him. Dad would shit if I told him I gave up my virginity in tenth grade to Bobby Ward. He was a senior and leaving for college the following fall. He was the first guy who didn’t make fun of me or treat me like shit. He protected me at school all year. I went to prom with him and that night we did the deed. We broke up the week he graduated. His parents didn’t want me around and they didn’t hide that fact whenever I was at their house. Bobby folded under the pressure. It didn’t bother me too bad. It wasn’t as though we were in love or anything. We had sex that one time and I never did it again until the end of my junior year. Sex doesn’t hold the same stigma to me that it does for other people like my dad and other people his age. Right now, I don’t want a relationship based on sex, I want to know him well before I let him between my legs. I wonder if I should tell Tate that tonight. Great, that should be fun.

“Dad, he was a gentleman. We had coffee and talked about going to college. He’s smart and doesn’t act like an idiot. He plays a guitar and offered to show me how.” Wait for it…the freak out should happen any second.

“Guitar lessons, huh? I’ve always wanted to play, that’s cool. Just be careful, guys who’re older tend to want sex. You’re a grown woman, and I can’t keep you from having sex, but be careful. I love you too much to see you with a broken heart, or pregnant at your age.” His voice and demeanor is so calm, I wonder if he found his Ativan.

“Ready for those meds?”

“I guess. Let’s have some coffee and toast together before you run off.”

A normal morning is something I dream of, and I’m actually living it today.

***

Pulling into the long driveway, I see Andy’s car parked by the garage. She loved her Volkswagen Beetle. She kept a fresh flower in the little vase that comes with the car. You never rode in her car without it smelling like flowers. One time Kensie Washington tried to light up a cigarette. She argued that with the top off it was like being outside. Andy offered to pull over on the side of the road for her to smoke.

I’ve rarely had to ring the doorbell to the house. The ding-dong-chime-ding-ding-ding sound gives me chills at the idea of seeing her parents.

Linda answers the door wearing a pair of shorts and one of her golf shirts. Her nose is bright pink from where it was burned.

“Holland! Oh honey, I’m so happy to see you!” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me so tight all I could feel were her implants pushed into my B-cups. “Come in.”