"I tried to talk her out of leaving, not necessarily for my dad, but for me. My dad and I didn't exactly have the worst relationship, but it certainly wasn't the best, either. I didn't know what would happen if she left. For as long as I could remember, she had always been the one to make things work in our lives.”
I had vivid memories of my father sitting on the end of the bed waiting for my mom to bring him a pair of socks. She literally did everything for him, brought him everything he needed— yet, she still felt unappreciated by him.
“She told me that she had to leave right away,” I continued. “I begged her to let me come with her. She refused, saying that she didn't really have all of the details worked out yet. But she promised to come back for me as soon as she could. I cried and told her that I didn't want to wait and that I didn't care where we went, as long as I could be with her.”
She’d caressed my face and smiled. She’d kissed me on my forehead and brushed back loose curls that had fallen over my eyes.
She’d told me, “I know that you don't understand, but I am doing this for you just as much as I am doing it for me. I want you to always remember that you have to go after what you love and what makes you happy. Don't settle for a life that isn't the best life that you can have, of your own design. And if ever you feel that you are stuck or unhappy, run. Run as fast and as far as you can until you don't feel that stuck feeling anymore. If you don't remember anything that I say to you honey, please remember that.”
Now, I look up into Elijah’s eyes— or as much as I can make out by the light of the fire in the dark cave— as I finish telling him the story.
“She slammed her suitcase shut, told me that she loved me, and disappeared quickly out the front door. That was the last time that I would ever see her. Alive, that is.”
I gulped and tried to hold back my tears before continuing. “She got into a really bad car crash and died instantly. My heart was ripped to shreds. I loved my mom so much. And the worst part about it is that my father was completely heartbroken. I had never see him cry up until that point. The way that he cried tore me apart. He seemed so lost. He would go between blankly staring and crying.”
“I’m so sorry,” Elijah said, holding my hand tight.
I plunged forward with the story. “At her funeral, everyone said very nice things about my mother. They called her an angel and talked about how she always made everyone feel welcome and loved. They were right.”
Next was the part I didn’t want to tell him. I hadn’t told a soul. But, as Elijah had suggested, maybe if told each other about our demons, we could make them start going away. I took a deep breath and then continued.
“But, there was a man there at her funeral that I didn't know. When the ceremony was over, he came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and told me that he had something to tell me. I was curious as to what he had to say, so I walked out of the funeral home and talked to him.
‘My name is Jean,’ he said, nervously. ‘I didn't know if I should reach out to you, but I figured that I would rather say something than not. Your mother was coming to meet me the night that she got into the accident. She and I had been seeing each other for a few years. The reason that I wanted to tell you that is because I believe that she was going to tell your father about us.’”
Elijah’s deep intake of breath showed the same shock I’d felt that day the stranger had approached me.
“I asked him, ‘So, why are you telling me now? And at her funeral of all places!” I was livid! I understand that it was my mother's choice to be with this man, but I certainly did not have to stand there at her funeral while I was grieving and listen to this. And I absolutely wasn't about to let this man upset my father any more than he already was.”
“I completely understand,” Elijah said, his fingers tracing the veins of my hand as he continued to hold it. “I would feel the same way. The nerve of that guy!”
“I told him, ‘Look sir, I appreciate what you trying to do in keeping my mother's wishes and memories alive, and I’m sure that you think this confession will somehow help you deal with your own grief, but I think that you need to just go away.’”
“What did he say back?” Elijah asked.
“He just said, ‘I see,’ and hung his head as he turned to walk away. So I said, ‘One last thing. The next time that you feel that you want to ruin your dead girlfriend's funeral, please think twice and don’t do it.’”
Elijah said, “ha!” and I added, “I know that my words were mean, but I didn't care. He was rude and inappropriate and what he told me wasn’t the right time or right place.”
“I agree,” Elijah declared, solemnly. “I wish I could go find him and kick his fucking ass for you.”
“I would let you, except that for whatever reason, I guess my mom loved this asshole. So, I really try to understand things from his point of view,” I said.
“Well, that’s awfully nice of you.” Elijah scowled, and I was touched by his loyalty.
“The night that my mother left, she made me promise that I wouldn't say anything to my dad until long after she was gone,” I continued, finally unburdening my guilt onto another human being. “I was hesitant because I didn't want to have to be the one to tell him. But more than that, I didn't want to take any part in breaking my father's heart. I had never really seen him upset, but I'm sure that knowing that his world was being turned upside down would have been enough to upset him, at the very least.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed. “That’s understandable.”
“So, I didn't tell him. And when he cried out, asking where she had been going, begging for answers, I felt so guilty,” I confessed. “I felt like I personally had something to do with her death. No, I wasn't the person who killed her, but I had more information on what was going on than anyone. And now that her boyfriend had come forward with more details, I had even more information.”
I gulped again. “But I won’t ever tell him. I vowed that I would never tell him. I decided to just do my best to be a good daughter and hope that he will somehow come to terms with the fact that his wife is gone. Anything more and God knows what kind of strain it would put on him.”
“It’s definitely not your job to tell him,” Elijah said. “I can see how you would struggle with it, though.”
“I thought he was going to figure it out one day because about a week after she left, he called me and asked me if I knew where their old suitcase was.
‘Why are you looking for it?’ I asked curiously.
‘Oh, I just noticed it was gone,’ he said. “It's been in our closet for years and it's not there anymore.’
I lied and suggested that maybe Mom had donated it to the Salvation Army before she passed away. I said I think I had seen it in the donation pile. But he paused like he was processing what I was saying.
‘You can't remember if you saw a huge suitcase in there or not?’ he asked.
‘No, Dad,’ I told him, having to go along with the lie now that I’d started it. ‘It was a crazy week for me. I was trying to figure some things out with the kids that I work with, so I really wasn't focused on what was in the donation pile.’”
“Did he believe you?” Elijah asked me.
“He just said ‘okay’ and hung up the phone. I was really relieved that he let me go, and I blew out a huge breath. My heart was beating fast and my palms were sweating. I felt like I was doing something wrong to my dad, but I also felt like I had to keep my mother's memory pure and untainted or else I’d be doing something wrong to her.”
“What a bad position to be in,” Elijah said.
“Yeah. I couldn't imagine what he would feel like if he knew that my mother had been running away to be with her boyfriend the night that she’d been killed. She was literally on her way when it happened. She was killed by a drunk driver.”
I paused, then decided to keep divulging my innermost fears.
“I wonder what she had been thinking in those final moments right before she was hit. Had she been thinking about me? Did she consider what her choice was going to mean for her only daughter? I tried to tell myself that she really had been thinking of me and not selfishly thinking of herself.”
“Of course,” Elijah said. “These are only natural thoughts to have after such an event takes place. Multiple events, actually.”
“I was awake many nights beating myself up,” I confessed. “I felt like I should have tried harder to convince my mother not to leave, to make her stay. Then maybe she would still be alive. Maybe we wouldn't have had to bury her and say goodbye forever. Even though I had promised my mother that I wouldn't say anything, I keep thinking: should I have said something to my dad and perhaps he would have stopped her from leaving? Would he have been able to talk her out of it? Would that have caused the first argument that I would ever remember them having? There were so many different scenarios that I was working out in my mind that I was on the verge of driving myself crazy.”
I stopped talking, or else I could keep going forever. But the thoughts kept whirling in my mind, just like they always did.
Would my dad have mourned her the way that he had been doing if he knew that she had been unfaithful and had been planning to leave him? Not only was she planning it, she had acted upon that plan and left him. Would he have felt that she got what she deserved?
I shuddered at the thought. No, I knew that it was better for my father to believe that she was gone and that they stayed on good terms. There was nothing that could be done to change things anyway.
That was why I had been so eager to dismiss Jean, my mother's boyfriend, when he showed up to her funeral. Nothing was going to taint my mother's memory as long as I had something to say about it.
Elijah stroked his beard, pondering everything that I had said. After a while, he finally spoke.
"Well, it seems to me that since this is still eating at you and you’re unsure, then for your own good you need to have an honest conversation with your father and tell him the truth."
I didn't expect him to say that.
"Why tarnish my mother's memory? There's nothing that can be done about it now."
"No, nothing can be done to change the facts of what happened. But you are holding on to guilt about the situation,” Elijah answered. “And both of you have been grieving so much. Sharing the information that you have with him could be a key part in helping both of you to heal. Plus, at least it won’t be this lone secret for you to bear anymore. Maybe letting go of it can help you find peace.”
I thought about what he said. Maybe there was some truth to his words. I would love to release the heavy load that was weighing me down. I just didn't want to do it at the risk of breaking my father's heart. Losing my mother had already done a great job of that.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I would tell him, but I just don't want him to think ill of my mother."
"It's okay," he said, reaching his arms around me in a big hug.
It felt nice to be nestled in his arms. As he held me, I started to get turned on again. It seemed like bad timing, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted him so bad. I couldn't get enough of him. He was so sexy and he fulfilled me in ways I never thought were possible.
I realized I had temporarily escaped from my life with my dad to deal with my guilt. Being here with Elijah was just what I needed to be able to face my guilt and fears. I was both hopeful and curious about what was going to happen next with this welcoming, protective caveman.