More Than Exist

  “I wish I didn’t have to go,” I said as I pulled Ginger in for one last hug.

  “Call me every night and let me know where you are, okay?” Ginger requested, causing my heart to squeeze happily. “And once your settled, you call me and I’ll come visit.”

  “Okay,” I said with a big grin.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  I said goodbye to Ginger’s mother and sister, then threw my overnight bag in the bag and got in the car. I waved as I drove off, then looked in my rearview mirror to see Ginger still waving.

  My heart squeezed again, painfully this time, as I thought about how much I was going to miss Ginger, and I worried about what lay ahead for me.

  Chapter 13

  I was about halfway to Shreveport when the guilt hit. Maybe it was because the adrenaline of being with someone new had worn off. Maybe it was because I was on my way to spend time with Ricky’s family. Or maybe it was simply because Landon was the first guy who I’d been with other than Ricky, since the night Ricky and I had met.

  Whatever the reason was, the result was pure agony.

  The mind can be a vicious thing, and mine was currently calling me every name in the book.

  I wanted to pull over, crawl into a ball on the front seat, and cry myself to sleep.

  I wanted to scream, pull out my hair, and cause myself physical harm.

  I really wanted a drink.

  Instead, I tried to ignore the mean voices in my head and cried violently as I drove, wiping my face every few seconds so I could see the road.

  By the time I pulled into the parking lot at The Boardwalk, I was exhausted and emotionally spent. I searched through my purse until I found some foundation, mascara, and lip-gloss. I hastily tried to make my face look like I hadn’t just had a crying jag for the last sixty miles.

  I sighed loudly as I looked over my somewhat concealed puffy eyes, and decided that this was about as good as I was going to get. I grabbed my bag, locked up the car, and began to navigate my way through the outlets toward Joe’s Crab Shack. This was my mother-in-law’s favorite place to eat, and we went there every time Ricky and I came to visit. It was tradition.

  As I maneuvered through the crowd, I found myself reaching for Ricky’s hand, just like I’d done a dozen times before as we walked through these outlets. If I closed my eyes and imagined really hard, I could almost feel the ghost of his palm sliding against mine. My heart lurched as the memories of this place swirled around me, and I picked up the pace to try and outrun them before they broke me down.

  I rushed through the door and came to a halt when I saw the two women who had helped shape Ricky into the kind, generous, loving man I’d married.

  With matching jet-black bobs and smiles tinged with sadness, they moved in to hug me in tandem. I inhaled my mother-in-law’s familiar scent and said, “I’ve missed you, Mom.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Bella, darling,” she returned with a squeeze.

  I pulled back and smiled at my sister-in-law. “You look great, Con.”

  “So do you, Bells,” Consuela replied, giving my long hair a tug. Two years younger than Ricky and me, Consuela had loved to come and visit whenever she could. We’d always had a great relationship, and looking into her face brought back tons of memories.

  “You’re table is ready,” the hostess called out to us. We let each other go so we could follow her into the crowded restaurant.

  Once we were seated and I’d answered questions about my drive thus far, tactfully leaving out the parts that would have caused them to worry, I turned to Consuela and inquired, “How’s everything with you and Mark?”

  My mother in law’s lips pursed, and Con shook her head sadly.

  “It’s over,” she told me, and I reached my hand out to cover hers consolingly. “I moved out about three months ago. I’m living with Momma until I can find a place with rent that I can afford. Mark sold the house and moved to Texas. He said he needed a fresh start.”

  “I’m so sorry, Con. I wish you would have called me so I could help you.”

  Consuela looked at me sadly and squeezed my hand.

  “You have enough on your plate, Bells. I didn’t want to worry you. Things are going great.” She tried to put on a brave face, but she wasn’t fooling me.

  I hated that she hadn’t felt she could come to me when she was hurting, and I wondered what else the people in my life had sheltered me from in the last year.

  We kept the conversation light and generic throughout the meal, and for the first time in my life, I felt like a stranger with my husband’s family. It wasn’t that they were treating me badly, just … differently.

  My mother-in-law didn’t drink, and she didn’t like other people drinking either, so although I watched the tables around us being served alcohol, I couldn’t have a drink myself. The need for a drink, paired with the awkwardness of the evening, was wearing on me, and by the time we paid our bill, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.

  I had a bottle in the trunk, I’d just have to smuggle it in to the house.

  Con told her mom that she wanted to ride back to the house with me, so I wouldn’t have to be alone, but I could tell that she wanted to talk to me without her mother present.

  My suspicions were confirmed when we pulled out onto the main road.

  “I wanted to tell you about the room before we get to the house.”

  “What, the guest room?” I asked. Ricky and I stayed in his old room every time we came to visit. After Ricky joined the military, his mom had put his things into the attic and converted it into a pretty, frilly guest room. Ricky hated it, but I’d always thought it was homey.

  Con nodded then worried her lower lip before saying, “After we got home from the funeral, Mama had been really distraught. She’d ended up going up into the attic and going through Ricky’s stuff.”

  I’d been a mess, but even in my state, I could see how hard Ricky’s mom had taken his death when they came out to San Diego for the funeral. Unfortunately, I’d been so caught up in my own grief that I hadn’t been able to console anyone else.

  “That’s understandable,” I offered.

  “Yeah, it was, but then she brought everything down and redecorated the guest room. She basically recreated Ricky’s bedroom from high school.”

  My stomach dropped at Con’s words. Not just because my mother-in-law was obviously having a harder time copping with Ricky’s death than I thought, but because she expected me to sleep in a bedroom surrounded by memento’s from Ricky’s childhood.

  “I wanted to let you know before you walked in there unaware,” Consuela added, her hand coming to land on my shoulder and squeeze it gently.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I replied softly, my throat closing tightly and the need for a drink causing me to feel panicky.

  When we parked and got out of the car, I grabbed my overnight bag from the back as Con looked on and waited. Therefore there was no way for me to rummage through my luggage to get out the bottle of vodka. Grudgingly, I closed my trunk and followed Con into the house.

  I made my way toward Ricky’s bedroom, my legs heavy as if I were walking through quicksand, and schooled my features so I wouldn’t offend Ricky’s mom when I entered the room behind her.

  She turned on the light and I looked around, wondering how in the hell I was going to make it through the night without falling apart.

  Chapter 14

  “What all’s in there?” Ginger asked, her voice comforting me like a soft blanket after being out in the cold night.

  I looked around the room for the hundredth time since I’d excused myself to go to bed.

  “Trophies, pictures from high school, his basic training graduation photo, Star Wars action figures, even his old New Orleans Saints bedding,” I told her, running my hand across the bed. “I’m laying on Saints sheets right now.”

  “Aww, that’s so sad,” Ginger cooed through the line. And she was right, it
was tremendously sad. “I mean for both of you. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, Belle. I wish I could be there with you.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I replied honestly. “I’ll be all right though, don’t worry about me. Hey,” I began, wanting to change the subject and get my mind off the fact that I was currently in Ricky’s bed, and my vodka was locked in the trunk of my car. “How’s everything there? Have you seen Bo again?”

  “Nope,” she replied, and I could hear the hurt in her voice. “That’s all right though. I’ll be getting on a bus back to Vegas tomorrow, and Bo and Candy will be a distant memory.”

  I could tell she was lying, but understood her need to do so. Hell, I lied to myself a thousand times a day.

  “Screw ‘em,” I said, smiling when her laughter floated over the line, just as I hoped it would. “You take care of yourself on that bus, Babs.”

  “Shut up!” Ginger squealed, causing me to smile.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow when I stop. Goodnight, Ginger.”

  “Night, Belle.”

  I tossed and turned for a while, then my eyes landed on something hanging from the one of Ricky’s trophies on the dresser in the corner of the room. I threw back the covers and walked slowly across the room. The small piece of jewelry slowly began to come into focus as I moved, and I felt the pain hit my heart as I recognized my necklace.

  It was a thin, silver chain, with a small medallion that had my initials carved in the center. It was the necklace I’d been wearing at the club the night Ricky and I met. I thought I’d lost it while we were dancing, but apparently Ricky had kept it as a memento. I reached out and ran the tip of my finger over the letters, as the music from that night played in my head.

  I could feel Ricky’s hands on my skin, smell the musk of his cologne, and see his brilliant smile as he told me that he liked the way I moved, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating in this space and needed a drink, like I needed air to breath.

  I grabbed my keys and eased myself out of the room, pausing to listen for any indication that the other women in the house were still awake. Satisfied that I was the only one, I tiptoed down the hall and let myself quietly out the front door, careful to leave it slightly open, to allow myself easy access back into the house.

  I looked up and down the street as I padded out to the car. I gently pushed the trunk lid up and dipped my head into the car, struggling to see in the dark as I unzipped my suitcase and rifled around inside.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt the cold glass bottle with my hand, then looked around again to make sure I was alone outside, and no one was watching me from the windows. I grabbed the bottle and shut the trunk quietly, then let myself into the back seat of the car and slouched down in the seat.

  After a few healthy gulps, I became aware of where I was, and what I was doing, and that realization scared the shit out of me. I looked at the tall clear bottle in disgust as I twisted the cap back on and pressed the back of my hand to my mouth when the sobs started to roll out.

  Utterly bereft, I curled up on the back seat of the car and cried until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

  A tapping sound roused me from my slumber, and I blinked rapidly as I tried to remember where I was. The first thing I realized was that I was freezing. Chilled to the bone. The second thing I realized was that my mother-in-law was standing outside of my car in her robe, knocking on the window of my car door.

  “Holy shit!” I said as I quickly sat up, then winced when the glass bottle fell to the floor with a loud clank. There was no way that she didn’t hear, or see, that happen.

  She opened the door and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  “Um, yeah,” I muttered as I ran my hands over my hair. My embarrassment was almost unbearable. I scooted down the seat and unfolded myself from the car, keeping my eyes averted, unable to look her in the eye yet.

  “Mirabelle?” she prompted, so I took a deep breath then brought my eyes warily to hers.

  The next thing I knew I was in her arms, my head cradled against her chest, and she was rocking me softly back and forth. I could hear her cooing that everything would be okay, even as her own grief echoed in my ears. I held on tight and allowed myself to be comforted by the woman who could understand my loss completely.

  We stood that way for a few moments, each of us offering support in the only way we knew how, then Ricky’s mom said, “Let’s get you inside and warmed up, Bella.”

  Eager to get myself into a hot shower, I agreed.

  After a quick shower, I packed my things and left the room with one final glance. I felt guilty about cutting my visit here short, but I felt like I had to leave, for my own sanity. I told my in-laws that I needed to get back on the road and to my parents’ house, and even though I could tell they were disappointed, they understood that I needed to go.

  “Is it okay if I take this?” I asked my mother-in-law, showing her the necklace resting in my palm.

  “Of course, sweetheart,” she responded with a sad smile. “Come back anytime.”

  “Thanks,” I replied as I held her tightly, then moved on to embrace Con. “Call me.”

  “I will,” she assured me, then added, “Drive safe.”

  I nodded in agreement, then got into my car and drove away, waving back as they lifted their hands in farewell.

  I felt the tension leave me the farther I down the street I got, and guilt hit me again. I used to love my visits back to Ricky’s childhood home, and I hoped in the years to come I’d be able to come back and feel comfort in the memories, but right now, they felt like a noose around my neck.

  Chapter 15

  I was exhausted after a night of uncomfortable sleep and a long day of driving, but I pushed myself to finish this trip. I was ready for it to be over. And after almost thirteen hours on the road, four stops for gas, food, and to use the restroom, I was finally almost to my parent’s place in Orlando.

  They no longer lived in the house I grew up in. They’d gotten rid of that years ago, and now spent their time in a retirement community. There were two bedrooms, so they had room for company, but the smaller home was much easier for them to maintain. Plus, the community had plenty of amenities and activities, and they’d made a ton of good friends.

  My parents were living the good life, which was why this stop was only temporary for me. I didn’t want to interrupt their routine, and I couldn’t live here with them. I’d have to figure out what my next step was going to be, sooner rather than later.

  But for now, all I needed was a warm bed, and the comfort of being under my parents’ roof.

  ‘Mirabelle!” my mother shouted, coming down the path as I gathered all of my things from the car. “I should have your father give you a good talking to for driving straight through from Louisiana the way you did … But, I’m too happy to see your beautiful face.”

  “Hi, Mom,” I replied, with the first genuine smile I’d had in days. I reached up to give her a hug and immediately felt at home.

  By some strange act of science, both of my parents were taller than me, with my mom coming in at over five foot eleven and my dad standing taller than six foot two. I’d always expected to grow taller. Even when I was seventeen and it was obvious that I was done growing at five foot five, I just knew I had a couple more inches in me.

  It never happened.

  My parents always joked that they’d picked me up in the Shire, even though by most standards, I was average height.

  I always felt like a child again when I was in my mother’s arms.

  She pulled back and brought both hands up to cup my cheeks.

  “You look tired, Belle, and too skinny.”

  “You look great!” I replied, countering her declaration.

  “C’mon, let’s get you settled,” my mother said, taking my overnight bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Your father fell asleep in front of the T.V.”

  I chuckled. My dad always fell asleep in front of the television. He had s
ince I was a little girl. He always said sitting in his recliner and watching mindless television helped him let go of his day and relax enough to go to sleep. If he tried to just lie down in bed without unwinding, he’d never get to sleep, because his mind refused to shut down.

  I put my stuff in my room, then wandered out into the den, where my mom was gently shaking my father’s arm.

  “Howard,” she whispered.

  Dad came slowly awake and asked, “Is she here?”

  My mom nodded and tilted her head in my direction, causing my dad to turn and crane his neck.

  “My Bella,” he said, his smile immediate.

  I rushed to him and he stood, folding me into his arms tightly when I got close enough to embrace.

  “I’ve missed you, Daddy,” I cried softly.

  I felt his lips touch the top of my head and closed my eyes, allowing myself to bask in my father’s love.

  After a few minutes my mom declared that it was time for all of us to go to bed and get some sleep. And although I felt like I could stand there in the safety of my father’s arms forever, I knew she was right.

  “I love you guys, see you in the morning,” I said as I stood in the doorway of my room and watched them walk hand in hand down the hall to theirs.

  “Goodnight,” they called in unison, and my mom added, “We love you too, sweetheart. We’re so happy you’re here.”

  I smiled and nodded, then crossed into the room and shut the door. I quickly pulled out my pajamas, leaving the rest of my luggage to be unpacked tomorrow.

  The bed looked too inviting, and I was beginning to feel dead on my feet.

  I grabbed my nearly empty vodka bottle from the bottom of the bag and finished it, just to take the edge off, then hid it back under my clothes.

  My belly warm from the liquor, I peeled back the covers and snuggled in, looking around the room that had been redecorated since the last time Ricky and I had come to visit.