The familiar drive back to Huntsville alone was enough to have my stomach in knots. Thankfully, I’d called ahead and gotten one of what I was told were the last rooms available that weekend because of some town celebration going on.
I checked in and then drove around town for a bit before heading back to my hotel room. I was nervous about the cemetery, still remembering my last visit here. Even more alarming, I once again could feel her presence. I knew it was all in my head. I was just psyching myself out. Being this close to the place I shared so many memories with her and where she’d lost her life was all it was. But I felt that strange feeling of empowerment somehow. Like maybe what Dr. Mike had said was really true.
All day as I’d driven around town, I allowed myself to remember. I even drove by that theater where we’d first kissed. Though I still dared not step foot in it, I figured riding by it was a good first step.
Just before getting into bed in my room that night, I decided I’d get up the next morning, go buy something to leave at her grave for her birthday, and then play the rest of the day by ear. See how I felt about doing more revisiting. The rain came down hard that night, and even that brought on stronger than normal reminders of the rainy days I’d spent making love to my Maddie. The memories were almost too much to bear, but I forced myself through them, embracing them rather than trying to shut them out as I normally did.
The next morning I got up, grabbed a quick breakfast through a drive-thru, then strolled through the festival they were having at the park. Once again, I thought I felt her presence, but again, I decided it was just the nostalgia of it all. I’d walked through this same festival with Maddie on or around her birthday weekend. While it hurt my heart to remember, it still felt like there was some healing happening.
When I spotted the lady selling cornucopia arrangements, my eyes zeroed in on the one filled with M&M’s. “Perfect,” I said, smiling and glancing around because it actually felt like too big a coincidence. It even had a tag for me to write something on, and I did once I got back to my bike. I stared at the tag after writing the only two words that felt perfect.
Amor Eterno.
Dr. Mike was right. My love for Madeline was eternal. So why not embrace all the memories? As heavy as my heart felt when I laid the gift for her on her grave and remembered her beautiful giddy smile, I reminded myself over and over of Dr. Mike’s words. Those memories are ultimately what are going to help you recover.
“You own my heart forever, Peanut,” I whispered, still touching the grass that covered her grave. “I’ll never forget you.”
Completely choked up, I tore myself away and drove away on a mission. First, I drove to a few other places I hadn’t been to since she passed: the side of the road where she’d lost her life and the Little Caesars where I’d often picked her up after her shift and she’d jump into my arms smelling like pizza sauce, cheese, and Maddie. Then I stood out by the lake where she’d approached me for the very first time and actually smiled recalling that first conversation.
For a moment, I considered driving out to the pier, a place I hadn’t revisited in years. Shortly after she passed, I’d gone there a few times, but I’d become so overcome with grief I seriously considered taking my life the last time I was there. If I’d had a gun that day, I have no doubt I would’ve.
Then I remembered the downpour of rain last night. Even the dirt roads that were kept up in and around town were a mess. The only ones who ever kept up the road that led to the pier were my brothers and I, and we hadn’t in years. Even if it hadn’t rained last night, getting through that road would’ve been a challenge, but now it’d likely be impossible.
I left the lake with every intention of just driving through town just one last time before heading home. Twice while in town I felt it again: Madeline’s presence or at least the reality that I was closer to her here in Huntsville than I’d ever be anywhere else. More pressing was the pier. It was calling to me now. Feeling her here in Huntsville made my heart yearn to know what I might feel if I at least got close to the pier.
The sensation that overwhelmed me now was a strange one. My chest felt heavy with a mixture of emotion: waves of fear, sorrow, and even longing for that unexplainable mist of reminiscence that had sprinkled over and over me since I arrived here. The memories were everywhere here. “There’s no way that road is drivable,” I muttered under my breath even as I turned on the highway in the pier’s direction.
Shaking my head, I gave into the pull. I may as well while I was here. Who knew when I’d be back again? While being here and allowing myself to remember did feel like I was making progress, it was emotionally draining. It’d likely be a while before I could conjure up the courage to do this again.
I took the slow steady drive, my heart pounding away as if it sensed something I still didn’t understand. But I chalked it up to this being the first time in so long that I’d allowed myself to really remember. Since I’d really enjoyed the memories, not drowned in the sorrow of them.
As I approached the pier, that mist of reminiscence—it was the only way to explain it—was stronger than ever. I pulled over on the side of the road just before the turn off to the old road that led to the pier. I’d been right. Even before turning in there, I could see it was nothing but a slush of mud. I wouldn’t get more than a few feet before my bike would be buried in that mire of a road.
To my surprise, it appeared a car had driven in there recently. The muddied tire tracks seemed very recent. Maybe someone else had discovered it and tried driving through it. Couldn’t have been today though. No one would risk doing so today.
Seeing Madeline walk out from around the bushes at the end of the muddied road was like something out of a dream. Once again, I was certain I’d lost my mind. She stood there looking like a beautiful angel sent from God, despite being covered in mud. That’s when clarity hit me. Why would an angel be covered in mud?
“Maggie?”
She nodded, gazing at me as she had at the cemetery then again when she walked into the shop. I’d only begun to get caught up in those eyes when I realized she looked like someone had attacked her and I was instantly hot. “Who the fuck did this to you?” My eyes did a rapid upsweep of her mud-drenched body.
She said something about her car getting stuck in the mud and then her falling, but my eyes were glued to her hands and what she held in them, and I was overwhelmed with an entirely different type of heat. “You took the gift I left Maddie?”