Turned out it was possible to make a “meatball” out of chickpeas and a whole bunch of other spices feel and taste like meat if you drowned it in enough marinara sauce and cheese. While I was open to trying more of her meatless dishes, there was no way I was giving up my carne asada and pastrami cheeseburgers.
I knew my family would be happy about this turn of events. I started seeing Tara on a regular basis and never even sought out another therapist. It seemed pointless. Tara was more than open to talking about my feelings and even the occasional dreams I’d feel up to sharing with her now that we were a thing. What I hadn’t shared with her, even though I knew she was a therapist and if anyone might understand this it’d be her, was I’d begun to feel Madeline’s presence.
If I go before you, I will haunt you until the day we’re back together.
It was crazy and I knew it, but a part of me couldn’t help feeling like if anyone would keep good on her word, it’d be my spunky peanut. While a part of the whole insane thought freaked me out a little, an even more alarming part hoped she might. I’d never admit it to Tara because I knew it was utter insanity, but it was part of the motivation to keep things going with her.
My trips to Huntsville to visit Madeline’s grave began to taper off as things between Tara and me got a bit more serious. It wasn’t that I wanted to forget Madeline. I just needed to feel normal again, and deep inside, even with things going well with Tara, I still didn’t feel normal, especially not with this newfound craziness going on in my head. There’d even been a few times now that I could swear the sweet scent of Madeline would suddenly linger out of nowhere.
I was over at Tara’s place so often now talk of me moving in had come up a few times. Each time I found an excuse why it wasn’t a good time for me. As serious as things between us had gotten and as comfortable as I felt being with her now, I just wasn’t ready for such a big move.
One night as we’d been lounging around watching TV at her place, I’d actually begun to believe that maybe if I did go so far as to move in with Tara I’d stop feeling this eerie presence. She mentioned as she had before because I’d decided to just spend the night again, “You may as well start bringing some of your things here. It’d be more convenient for you.”
I smiled with a nod. “Movie’s starting,” I said, motioning to the television. “I’ll go make some popcorn.”
Tara said she’d use the bathroom while I did and would meet me back in the front room. I walked into the kitchen and started looking in her pantry then remembered she kept her snacks in one of the other cabinets above her counter. I opened the cabinet door and a bag fell out onto the counter, its contents spilling dramatically all over. I froze as the M&M’s in the family-sized bag continued to bounce all over the floor and counter.
As I stood there staring at the mess, my heart pounded as Tara walked into the kitchen. “You okay?” she asked when I was finally able to pull my eyes away from the candy.
“Yeah, I, uh . . .” I glanced back at the mess and finally started to make a move to clean it up. “I just opened the door.” I motioned to the cabinet door still open. “And the bag fell out.”
“That’s weird. I just bought this.”
She picked up the half empty bag of M&M’s. Unlike Madeline, Tara preferred the all chocolate with no nuts kind, but it was still too fucking big of a coincidence. Then she added something else. “I hadn’t even opened them.”
As we moved around cleaning the mess, she said something about the bag likely busting open when it hit the counter, but somehow I knew better. If she thought anything odd about it, she didn’t mention it. We finished cleaning up the mess, made the popcorn, and moved back into the front room. But after that day, I never brought up moving in, nor did I have any intention to. As crazy as the thought was, it almost felt as if it was my peanut’s way of telling me how she felt about it.
It’d been well over a year since Tara had become a part of my everyday life. I was even more grateful for the way she’d come into my life. She could understand without being hurt—at least she’d never admit it—why I couldn’t repeat the word when she told me she loved me. As it was, with this relationship getting heavier, I’d already found myself breaking down a few times in the shower and begging Madeline for her forgiveness.
“You know I care about you,” I’d told Tara after the first few times she told me she loved me and I couldn’t reciprocate. “I honest to God do. I’m eternally grateful to have you in my life. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to say those words to anyone ever again.”
She’d said she understood, and I genuinely wished she could. Despite my second-guessing this relationship, what Tara and I had felt safe. It’d been hard enough to make the transition of becoming serious with another girl—something I’d truly believed would never happen. So the thought of trying to find someone I felt more for was never even a consideration. I knew it’d never happen, and if this was as close as we’d get, then I could live with it.
Ama wasn’t thrilled about the age difference; though she seemed more relieved by the fact that I’d finally moved on she barely touched on it. In the very beginning, Tara was nervous about riding on my bike, but after a few times out, she warmed up to it. We’d done several long-distance runs she’d actually begun to look forward to.
It was hard to believe, but it was almost seven years since Madeline’s death, and as I tended to do since meeting Tara, I’d begun making excuses for visiting Madeline’s graveside less and less. I told myself it was disrespectful to Tara, but my heart knew who I was most worried about disrespecting.
Amidst all the shit going on in my head, I was still hoping things would work out between Tara and me. I was worrying that I was relapsing and I was going to fuck up what I’d worked so hard to get to. So I began to concentrate on us. There was a music festival going on a few hours away where they’d be having a Harley run. It sounded perfect, so we took a drive out and made a weekend out of it. For the most part, we had a romantic enough weekend. I might’ve pushed it a day longer if I didn’t have to get home Sunday for a BBQ my dad had decided to have for Ama’s birthday at the last minute. Only thing we had time for Sunday morning was to stop for breakfast. “Aren’t we taking highway three-fifty all the way home?”
I nodded before taking a sip of my coffee as I glanced up at Tara. She was frowning as she tapped her fingers on her phone screen. “I think it’s closed off.”
“Closed off?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, still engrossed in whatever she was reading on her phone screen. “Looks like there’s a big fire, and that entire highway is closed off with no ETA on when it’ll open.” She read something under her breath then loud enough for me to hear. “Looks like the best detour for us would be highway sixty-eight.” She winced as she slid her finger across the phone screen. “It’ll add at least another forty-five minutes to our trip home, but all the other detours would take us way off.”
I stared down at my food, moving the potatoes around without saying much for too long because it prompted Tara to ask. “Something wrong?” I shook my head, and I knew what she was probably already thinking. Her next comment confirmed it. “We’d just be driving through Huntsville, babe. We don’t have to stop.”
“Maybe I should,” I said without looking up at first but then had a thought and glanced up at her. “It’s been a while since I’ve visited her grave, and each time I do I feel a little more empowered if that makes sense.”
With all the craziness I’d been feeling lately, it felt like this was exactly what I might need. I needed some kind of empowerment. I needed to feel sane again, and maybe having stayed away from everything Madeline so long was the reason I was feeling so crazy.
Tara smiled with a nod. “It does make sense. It’s just another reminder of how far you’ve come.”
The whole way as we approached Huntsville I debated on whether I should just keep driving through the town I hadn’t revisited in over a year or if I should just man up and do this. Before I could change my mind, I turned off toward where I knew there was a flower shop. Just ordering the Bird of Paradise arrangement had me choking up.
Being the artistic person Madeline was, the exotic flower had always been her favorite. As I paid for the arrangement and the aroma of the flowers hit my senses, I was beginning to think maybe this had been a mistake, but I pushed on. We rode into the cemetery, and as soon as I parked, I got off because I was beginning to think I might chicken out. “I’ll wait here,” Tara said as she got off my bike and handed me the flower arrangement. “I think you should do this alone. Unless you want—”
“No, I need to do this alone.”
She nodded as I walked off before I changed my mind. I knelt down in front of Madeline’s tombstone and put the bouquet down. “Hey, Peanut,” I whispered, swallowing hard because I didn’t want to lose it. “I miss you, baby.”
It was all I could say. Any more and I would’ve been a mess, so everything else I wanted to say to her, I did so inwardly. That I was sorry I hadn’t come to see her lately. That I hadn’t planned on bringing Tara with me today. That I was trying to be happy because I knew it’s what she’d want but I’d never ever be as happy as when she was in my life . . .
My heartfelt thoughts were interrupted when the air in my lungs was suddenly sucked out of me because I felt her presence. Glancing up, I froze when I saw Madeline several tombstones away, standing there staring at me. I blinked behind my dark glasses as my heart swelled with a mixture of euphoria and terror. Euphoria because for years there’d been endless times I’d begged God for the impossible—the chance to see her just one more time. But this terrified me because I knew this couldn’t be real. I’d officially lost my mind.
It wasn’t even until I saw her bring her hand to her mouth in apparent emotion, that I noticed the girl next to her looking concerned. I stood up slowly, removing my glasses as my eyes met with those beautiful baby blues. It can’t be.
She and the girl next to her began walking toward me, and it was then that it dawned on me. This couldn’t possibly be Madeline, but there was a valid explanation for this.
I wasn’t seeing a ghost.
I hadn’t lost my mind.
But I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and I was still having a hard time breathing even as she reached me. “Maggie?”
She nodded but continued to stare at me, looking as staggered as I felt but also a bit lost. I glanced at her friend, who stared at me in the same way Maggie did, like she was wondering who I was. I turned to meet Maggie’s eyes again then pointed at myself. “Nicolas.” As unlikely as it seemed, it had been seven years, so I had to ask. “You don’t remember me?”
She shook her head. “I never regained my memory after the accident.”
Hearing her voice nearly brought me to my knees. I’d forgotten how exactly alike Madeline and her sister sounded. She explained more about having lost all memory from before the accident then apologized for not remembering me.
Completely lost in those eyes, I explained who I was—Madeline’s boyfriend. She seemed even more staggered by that, and at this point, I could not take my eyes off her. It was like I was seeing a ghost. My beautiful Madeline’s ghost. Neither of us said anything for too long, and I had to wonder why she was looking at me this way. To her, I was a complete stranger, but to me she was . . .
“Wow, this must be so weird for you both,” her friend said, finally breaking the silence.
“Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I said, still locked in Maggie’s eyes.
Maggie introduced me to her friend Clarisse. She explained when I asked if she’d returned to live in Huntsville again, that like us she and her friend were on a weekend road trip. We exchanged a little more small talk as I told her about being rerouted by the fire and ending up here today.
As much as I wanted to stay and keep talking to her, find out more about what she’d been up to all these years and why’d they’d left without saying good-bye to anyone, I knew my time was limited.
I continued to peer at her because I just couldn’t get past how much she looked like Madeline. So much so I’d glanced at her neck several times to make sure she didn’t have the beauty mark I’d kissed so many times.
She didn’t.
This was definitely Maggie, and my insane imagination wouldn’t start jumping to hopeful conclusions. “I wanna say it was nice seeing you again, Maggie. But nice isn’t strong enough a word to describe what this feels like. It’s more like . . . surreal?” I shook my head with a frown. “No. Even that doesn’t do it justice.”
I pulled out one of the cards I’d had made so long ago for that would-be business I dreamed of having with Madeline. When my brothers had gotten me a new phone, they kept the same number, so it was the same one on the card.
I asked her to please stay in touch because I really did want to hear about what she’d been up to. Mostly, I couldn’t get enough of listening to her voice, looking into those beautiful eyes. Glancing back at the grave, I was overwhelmed with a deep sadness again.
“That thing they say about time healing all wounds?” I glanced back at Clarisse and then Maggie as our eyes locked. “It’s bullshit. I’ve given up waiting for it to happen. I’ll never get over her.”
She brought her hand to her mouth as her face scrunched full of emotion. Just as I always had when I’d seen my peanut cry, I didn’t even think about it. I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around her. Touching her—holding her—was everything.
“I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was about your loss,” I whispered against her ear as I took another look just under it because damn it if she didn’t smell exactly like Madeline too.
Holding her in my arms felt just as it always had when I held Madeline, and my God, I wanted to squeeze her so hard. But the beauty mark—my beauty mark—was definitely not there. So I concentrated on explaining how I kept from losing it completely over the years. “Every time my ass started feeling too sorry for myself, I’d think of you and how hard this must be for you. You two were so close.”
She pulled away, shaking her head. “I don’t remember her.”
That took my breath away because there was no way. No way Maggie wouldn’t remember Madeline. It’d be like me saying I couldn’t remember her. No matter what kind of head injury she’d endured.
I shook my head because I refused to believe it. Her eyes were completely welled up, and the pain she was clearly feeling was palpable.
“Obviously, it still hurts. Maybe your brain doesn’t remember her, but your heart does.”
Her mouth fell ever so slightly as if I’d hit it on the nose, but she went on to explain how she didn’t even know she’d had a sister who died in the accident when she woke from her coma. Loretta hadn’t broken the news that Maggie was a twin until she was out of the hospital and Loretta was given the go-ahead because Maggie’s head injury had been so severe they’d been afraid too traumatic a reaction might be detrimental to her recovery. So they’d waited until they thought she was strong enough.
The longer I stood there looking at her, listening to her, seeing the emotion in her face—the exact face of Madeline, whom I thought I’d never see again—the deeper the ripples of pain seeped into my once again shattered heart. I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked away, reminding her to please keep in touch.
Every step I took toward my bike where Tara was waiting for me, I could feel my throat constricting further. Every one of Maggie’s facial expressions, every word out of her mouth brought back all the memories of Madeline and the tormenting reality of how much I’d lost of myself with her death.
I barely remembered what I said to Tara when I reached the bike, but by the look in her eyes, she knew my seeing Maggie—the love of my life’s identical twin—had sent me a hundred steps backward.
Not a word was exchanged the entire ride home as the tears spilled down my face nonstop. By the time I dropped Tara off at her place, I was certain of two things. One: It was a mistake to ask Maggie to keep in touch. Seeing her or even hearing her voice would destroy me all over again. It was cruel to my heart and soul, and I wouldn’t put myself through it again.
Two: I was done with Tara. I’d never be over Madeline, and trying to convince myself I was by pretending to move on was stupid. It wasn’t fair to Tara either, who I’d never feel for what I felt for my Madeline. My destiny had been to be with Madeline, and if that wasn’t possible anymore, then I’d be alone for the rest of my life.
After dropping Tara off that night, I went straight to Tillies, the local watering hole where my brothers and I would hang out on Friday nights. I felt bad about blowing Ama’s barbeque off, but I was afraid of showing up in the fucked mood I was now in and refused to ruin her birthday gathering.
The memories of downing one tequila shot after another, then walking outside to take hits of weed in between to try and numb the pain were choppy, but they were there. I also remembered having visuals of driving my bike into a wall without a helmet so I could end the fucking pain. Fortunately, at least as my family saw it, my brothers got the call about me being there drunk out of my mind and rushed there to get me home safely.
Two days later I broke things off with Tara. It wasn’t an easy breakup, and I felt for her because I knew firsthand what it was like to lose someone you were in love with. My only consolation and what cleared my conscience just a bit was I knew what she felt for me was nothing compared to what I still felt for Madeline. Tara would get over it. I, on the other hand, knew more than ever now I’d never get over losing Madeline.
Nearly two months after seeing Maggie, I was still reeling from the experience. Mercifully, Maggie never called my cell, but I was still nervous she might. How I never even considered that seeing her again would be so fucking unbearable was beyond me. Of course, it’d be just like seeing Madeline again. They were identical for Christ’s sake.
During one of those rare moments where I’d managed to distract myself from all thoughts of Madeline and now her sister by concentrating on putting in merchandise orders online, I got the call at the shop. Without giving it any thought, I answered it, my eyes still on the screen. “Mofos,” I said as I continued typing in orders.
“May. . .” There was a short pause, but my heart was already thudding against my chest because I recognized the voice immediately. “May I please speak to Nicolas?”
I could barely breathe. That voice. Dear God, it was going to be the end of me. I cleared my throat in an attempt to mask the emotion I was already feeling. “Who’s this?”
“This is Maggie.”
“Maggie,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut, unable to say more.
I sat there frozen for longer than I’d anticipated because a few moments later I heard her again. “Hello?”
“Maggie, Nicolas isn’t here.”
She asked when he would be, and as soon as I said not for a few days, I was kicking myself. I should’ve said never. Because that’s how long it’d be before I could bear to hear that voice and not feel like falling apart.
Maggie left a message for Nicolas asking if he could please call her back. That she really needed to talk to him. She even left her number, which I didn’t bother writing down. As shitty as I knew it was, there was no fucking way I’d be calling her back.
The moment I was off the phone with her, I told Xavier I had to run and was out of there. I took another one of my marathon rides to try and clear my head. Because of the incident at the bar with my brothers having to pick up my drunk ass, they knew all about me having seen Maggie at the cemetery.
Before they even got the call from the bar, they’d already been worried sick because Tara had called them to give them a heads-up. She told them about my reaction to seeing Maggie and how rattled I’d still been when I dropped her off. So they’d been trying in vain to get a hold of me.
Several days after the first time she called, Xavier informed me she’d called again when I wasn’t there. She’d left a message again, and I made sure they all knew I did not want to talk to her. So if she ever called again, they were instructed to continue to say I wasn’t there, even if I was. I figured she’d eventually get the hint.
What I wasn’t counting on was that Hellman tenacity. After not hearing from Maggie again for a few weeks, I thought I was home free. Then one day I stood behind the counter at the shop going over some numbers with Xavier when someone walked in the front door. I glanced up and went cold as I was instantly caught in Maggie’s beautiful baby blues.