Epilogue

        Where We Believe

        Ever since I left Greenbrier, I wanted nothing more to come back and live in my home again. At night I would lie in my bed next to my sister and we would talk and dream about what it was like. Whenever I fell asleep I pretended I was back home in my bed. When I woke up, the dream would shatter.

            “You need to pack the dirt tighter,” my mother instructs, shuffling on her bent knees over to the flower I’m attempting to plant. She shoos my hands and then takes over, smiling as she does so. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

            I move out of her way and tilt my head back to stare at the faded daylight. As much as I love spending time with my mother, it’s strange, being here. Everything still feels like a dream. I feel like that any second Belle is going to come out of the front door and skip towards us, but it never happens. Grandpa opens the door instead.

            “Need a drink?” he asks, carrying a small tray of Iced Tea towards us. I smile and take one of the glasses as he bends down to hand one to me. My mother does the same. “How is the gardening going?”

            My mother gives me a knowing smirk and sighs happily. “Stephen here still isn’t grasping the concept. I’m sure Belle would love to help. When will she be home?”

            My grandfather and I exchange knowing looks that my mother misses. After everything was wrapped up, we brought her home. She was well enough to be around us and could remember more, but she still forgets. She doesn’t know that Belle is dead. The doctor’s say that she’s suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and that’s causing her to somehow forget the whole incident on top of her remembering problem.

            “Not for a few days, yet,” Grandpa lies, giving my mother a plastered smile. We can’t break the news to her and the doctors agree that it’s not the best idea. She could cycle herself back into forgetting everything new she’s learned. In a few days she will forget that Grandpa told her Belle will be back and ask again, and then we’ll repeat. It’s been like this all month.

            “Okay.” My mother turns back to her gardening.

            “Do you mind if I steal Stevie for a little while?” Grandpa asks. “I was thinking we could take a quick walk.”

            I know what’s hiding underneath his words so I rise to my feet before my mother replies. She’s okay with it, barely looking up. Though she’s different than she used to be, she still gets wrapped up in things like I remember. She doesn’t look up when we leave.

            “It’s different, isn’t it?” Grandpa says wistfully. He’s walking slowly beside me, his steps relaxed as we head to the side of the house. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his gaze up towards the sky.

            “Very.” I look into the window of the house and the three kittens, now grown up a bit, stare back at me. The grey one paws at the window and another yawns as I pass.

            “As sad as things are, I like how we manage.” At first I don’t understand Grandpa’s words but then they sink in. “We have nothing to worry about, nowhere to go. I’d say we’re lazy, but it’s not that. We’re comfortable.”

            I agree with him. Things are calm here, all the time. Though at night I lie away at night, crying into my pillow, by the daytime I’m calm, even if it’s not the same as I used to feel. Some would call it numb, but how can you not be, when you still expect to see your sister everywhere you look?

            I grasp pieces of tall grass with my fingers as we walk through the stomped down path through the back field. Summer is coming to an end and soon school will start up here. I’ll be going, Grandpa says, as much as I don’t want to. It means I’ll be in my senior year, and though I used to look forward to it, now I regret it. Everyone is going to know me differently. I won’t be the girl who left and came back. I’ll be the girl with a dead father and dead sister.

            Grandpa stops abruptly beside me and I don’t notice until I’m a few steps ahead. Slowly, I turn around and squint in the sun to see him. He has his palm above his eyebrows, trying to see somewhere past me.

            “I think we’re interrupting.”

            I follow his gaze to see a figure standing in the grove. He’s staring at me, his posture solemn. He takes one of his hands out of his pockets and gives a small wave. I didn’t see his Camaro in the driveway, but then again, I never really notice anything anymore.

            “I’ll leave you two be.” Grandpa gives my shoulder a squeeze before wandering off in the opposite direction, probably to go spend time with my mother. I think that he’s happy she’s back, despite everything. I think he really missed her, even if it’s not the woman he remembers.

            “Hey,” Jacoby smiles. He opens his arms when I near him and I walk into his embrace. For a long time he holds me and I stay there, never wanting to move. In his arms, the whole world is gone. It’s just us, standing here. I don’t need to think about anything that’s happened or what might. When we pull away I wipe away tears that I desperately wish stayed hidden.

            “Hey,” I mumble. He moves his hand from my back and trails it down my arm until our fingers entwine together.

            “How are you?” he asks. We have this conversation every time.

            “The same.”

            He nods and we turn towards the reason we’re here. The headstone is grey, like every other one in town. The only difference is the engravings along the top and bottom. They’re winding flowers that frame the words inside them. Along the top three kittens play with a little girl chasing them. It makes me want to cry all over again so I swallow the lump in my throat.

            “I miss her,” I whisper. Jacoby pulls me into his side and I rest my head on his shoulder.

            “I know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips into my hair. “I know.”

            “The last thing I said to her was ‘front door,’” I tell him with a sad laugh. Quickly the sound turns from upbeat to choked. “We left off with two, meaningless words.”

            “You can’t always choose where you left off,” Jacoby says quietly, hugging me tighter. “Or where you pick back up. I think you know that better than anyone.” I nod and he kisses my head again. “She knows you love her. I promise you she knows.”

            I don’t say anything back.

             We stand there for a long time, hand in hand. We’ve seemed to be doing more of this than usual, not talking, but just being together. I think the silence is more comfortable than words.

            “I love you,” Jacoby murmurs, pulling me into his chest again.

            “I love you too,” I reply as his lips touch my forehead. I open my mouth to tell him how much when a quiet noise breaks me away from my thoughts. “Did you hear that?”

            Jacoby nods and we pull apart slightly to look around. I spy the brown fluff a few feet away, slowly walking out of the large tree that hid the others, months ago.

            Without hesitation I let go of Jacoby and move towards the kitten. There’s no sign of others, or a mother, but here it is, all by itself. Its eyes are barely open, like it’s fairly newborn and I wonder how it’s survived.

            In my arms it mews, cradling its furry head into my neck.

            “I’m not one to believe in signs,” Jacoby says behind me, “but if I were you, I’d take that as one from Belle.”

            Jacoby wraps his arms around my waist and presses his head into the back of my neck. I smile, feeling the tears roll down my cheeks yet again. This time though, they’re different. They’re no longer sad, longing tears; they’re happy.

            I tilt my chin towards the sky and look up through the trees, imagining Belle staring back down at me.

            “She would give us another kitten to take care of,” I mutter, laughing.