Josh drove to Bruce’s. It was a sports bar where he and his friends hung out a lot. Especially after a game. They always had what he wanted and the women who worked here were always hot.

He grabbed a few beers and stayed there for awhile shooting pool and watching baseball on the overhead TV. He did every and anything he could to take his mind off the day, and Amy.

When he got bored he went to the supermarket, grabbed a case of beer and some wine, then headed out to Dead Man’s Gorge, so called for the jagged, sharp, rock formations that led into a deep chasm. Either jumping off or driving over would result in sure death. Not many came back. Especially the ones that planned it that way.

Josh knew a guy once that jumped. He lived two houses down from him and worked as an insurance broker. He was made redundant after his company went through a bad spell. The poor guy was unable to bounce back. Burdened with substantial debts and the damage losing his job caused his family, he thought that death was the only answer. Josh remembered how his family suffered. At the time he’d wondered how the man could have been so selfish as to take his own life and leave his family behind with no one to care for them. What he never thought of was how the man must have felt.

Josh never thought of how doomed the man must have felt for death to be his only answer. He understood it now.

Understood it all. It was that doomed, damning feeling that gripped you and made you feel like there was no way to escape it. Josh was getting tired of it. Tired of waking up every day and blaming himself. Tired of feeling guilty.

He’d been parked up in his Range Rover about a few feet away from the edge of the gorge for about an hour now, downing more drinks.

Normally he followed Bruce’s with a visit to Roam Me, his favorite strip club.

But he couldn’t today. Not only did he want to be alone, but something happened to him when he kissed Amy and he felt that if he was ever going to please himself with a woman it had to be her. That would never happen after the way he treated her this morning.

He was disgusted with himself for the way he spoke to her. Thoroughly disgusted. He was still drunk from the night before and all he knew was anger. All he knew was he’d wanted more beer, and when he discovered what she did he was so furious he couldn’t think. Josh wanted to shake her for caring, to knock some sense into her so she could see that he didn’t want anyone to care for him. He didn’t care about anything and anyone so she shouldn’t waste her time on him.

Now he was here. At the precipice of the gorge that signaled the end for a lot of people.

The depressed, who had no more to give, and those who couldn’t bear anymore pain. He fit both categories. He was depressed and he didn’t have the strength to make any more attempts at fixing his life. The pain from the grief was too much for him now and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do.

So…what now?

Josh rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He steadied his ragged breathing and allowed his mind to drift. It seemed to drift forever and into a hole of bottomless nothingness. Down, down deep he went trying to get to the bottom of his mind.

As his mind steadied, the image of his family home in San Francisco came forward. It felt like someone was playing a memory from one of those old-style projectors people used to play their family videos on.

He saw himself as a very young child running across the lawn with a football. His dad was chasing him. His mother was laughing and so was his sister.

“Throw me the ball, son,” his dad called out.

Josh threw the ball and his father caught it, but as Josh looked back his father looked older, the way he did now. And Josh was no longer a child. He was a man playing as a professional with his team.

In every game he played he always, always looked to where his family sat. The proud looks on their faces would always give him that strength he needed to do his best and more. To be the best at what he did and give him the edge no one else had.

The pride for him would literally glow on their faces. Every time, every game, no matter how old he got or how many games he played. He played for them, all of them. He played to make them proud.

He knew without question that they loved him and always would.

Everything shifted in his mind again but this time it was as if he was running through scenes of his life, memories of his mother and Clarissa. Memories of his happy family.

When the scenery settled he was in the living room of his family’s house. His mother and Clarissa stood by the grand piano sorting through some clothes they were boxing up for charity.

“I can’t believe you got Primrose to part with this bag,” Clarissa said, holding up a bag with the Gucci logo printed all over it. She and their mother laughed.

“I have my ways.”

Josh rushed up to them, hoping this was real and it wasn’t just something created by his mind.

“Mom.” He pulled his mother in for a hug.

“Josh, what are you doing here? You have a big game tomorrow.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want to suffer the wrath of a tired Mancini Machine,” Clarissa teased, poking him in the stomach. “Hey, do I feel fat?” She continued to poke his stomach.

“Come here, you.” He hugged her too. “You’re both alive. You’re okay.”

It felt real, it felt real to him.

“Yes, are you okay? Josh, unhand me, I need air, man.” She pretended to suffocate. He released her and looked at them both.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m just happy to see you.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet. My big brother’s the best,” she said in her usual way and slipped her arm around him.

“Let’s go to Italy. Nonnina will be thrilled to see us.” His grandmother spoiled them rotten and they hadn’t been since last summer.

“Josh, how are we supposed to make time for Italy with your busy schedule? You have a game tomorrow and the season just started.” His mother gazed at him through her hazel eyes.

“Forget the game. Forget the season. I just want to spend time with you.” Josh reached out and took her hand.

“Who are you and where’s my boy?” His mother laughed.

“I’m being serious. We don’t spend enough time together. I can’t lose you again.”

She reached up and cupped his face. “You never lost me. Sweetheart, I’m so proud of you. How about you allow your mother the privilege of watching you play so I can cheer for you.”

“Me too,” Clarissa joined in. “It’s the only chance I get to give you a standing ovation. “

He felt tears streaming down his cheeks. “I miss you.”

“We’re always with you, Josh.” His mother nodded.

That was something she’d told him countless times. So often he could anticipate when she’d say it. This time, however, held more significance. A warm feeling of hope filled him and he felt the strength he needed come to his aid.

“Now go home.”

“Go home, Josh,” Clarissa said, too, but her voice sounded faint as if someone had turned down the volume.

She said it again but he didn’t hear her. Josh watched her lips move. He blinked and when he opened his eyes he was back in the real world, staring ahead at the expanse of the gorge. Evening was approaching and a light rain had started to fall.

He straightened up and pulled in a breath as he focused his gaze ahead. While he knew he’d fallen asleep and all that he saw of his mother and sister was a dream, something felt different. It was the reminder that they were always with him, even now.

And he shouldn’t be here. Not at this place where so many had taken their last breath.

Josh shook his head at himself and tried to feel that strength again. It was there still, it hadn’t left him. He had to get his act together and sort himself out. He owed it to his family to try. And to the friends who supported him. He supposed he also owed it to Amy, who had taken it upon herself to try to help him. The last two days weren’t part of her job. He knew when people were doing things for money and he could tell the difference with her.

When she kissed him that was real. It was probably the most real kiss he’d ever had, because he’d never been with a woman like that. He guessed the term was decent.

Josh needed to leave this place and go home. He needed to take hold of his life and do better to get it back on track. To do that he needed Amy, so he hoped like hell she came back tomorrow. If she didn’t he’d find out where she lived and apologize. He started the car up, but then turned it off again when he remembered all that he’d drank. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d definitely get arrested if the cops pulled him over.

He got out of the jeep, cleared it of all the empty cans of beer and bottles of wine, then decided to head home. It would be a very long walk, well over two hours. But he’d take that time to think and plan out how he was going to move his life forward.

It was time to do something different.

* * *

Amy only came back because the police called her.

No, she had to be honest with herself. She was already heading out the door with the intention to come back when they called her. Despite the horrible encounter she had with Josh this morning, she’d decided to gear herself up and see how he was. She’d put it down to just wanting to know how she should prepare herself for tomorrow.

Truthfully, she wanted to make sure he was okay.

Then the police called her to let her know they’d found his Range Rover parked near Dead Man’s Gorge. She asked where that was, hoping it was some kind of dare-devil place or something, but deep down knew it couldn’t have been a good place.

When the officer confirmed her worries, her heart shattered and she wished she hadn’t left Josh. Despite his rage she wished she didn’t leave.

She hadn’t known Josh very long, but it would break her heart if he did something to himself, and it was looking very likely that he had. The police found the Range Rover parked a few feet away from the edge. That sounded pretty bad to her.

It was six o’clock now. She’d been here for a few hours, sitting with Hilda in Josh’s living room. They were waiting to hear from the police.

Amy had called Hilda and Corey because they were the only people she had to contact. Corey was with the police. He went just in case he needed to…

Well, in case he needed to identify Josh’s body. A tear ran down her cheek at the horrific thought.

“Hey. Don’t cry, chica. We don’t know what’s happened,” Hilda offered, resting her hand on Amy’s.

“It doesn’t look good, Hilda.”

“I know. How about I go get us some stuff at the shop? Like ice cream, or something to cheer us both up,” she offered with a small smile.

Amy nodded, only agreeing because poor Hilda had done everything she could in the time they’d been here to make her feel better. If it made her feel better to get her something at the shop, then Amy would let her go.

Amy probably needed a moment to herself anyway. Just to process what was going on.

As Hilda left the room, Amy leaned forward onto her elbows and held her head in her hands.

What an absolute mess. These last few months had been so up and down that she didn’t even know if she was coming or going. First her mom, then leaving her job in New York, and now Josh.

Weakness ached her body and sapped what little energy she had left away from her. It was as if she’d lived a hundred lifetimes in these short months. So much had happened in a very little space of time and she always had to be alert and ready for the next thing life planned to throw at her. There really was only so much a person could take and this waiting was torture. It made her feel worse for her lack of compassion towards Josh during the time she’d been here.

He must have felt so bad about himself to go to that place and…

She lifted her head as she heard the front door open. Footsteps that weren’t Hilda’s sounded on the floorboards in the passage way. As far as she knew no one else had keys to the house. She stood as the footsteps came closer. Her heart slammed at the sight of him, then soared within her chest when Josh walked into the living room.

Relief washed over her in waves and to such an intensity that it brought fresh tears to her eyes. He stopped by the standing lamp near the wall when he saw her and bit the inside of his lip. Josh looked terrible. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look so bad. Bloodshot eyes looked back at her, overpowering the unusual mix of color that always fascinated her. The stubble on his face and the redness of his skin gave him a haggard, worn-down appearance. This wasn’t the Josh she knew. Her first reaction was to rush over to him and hug him, because she was so happy to see him and so happy he didn’t do something to himself. However, as the urge to hug him lifted, she instantly remembered their run in this morning and she felt like she’d imposed on him again, stepping so far over the line that it was beginning to look inappropriate. Especially when he outrightly told her not to come back till tomorrow.

Then she felt annoyance at the conflict of emotions, and at him.

“I’m sorry I’m here. I thought something happened to you.” She grabbed her bag from the sofa. “Why were you at Dead Man’s Gorge? You know what, don’t tell me.” She shook her head. It was fine, she didn’t need to know. He didn’t have to tell her, and most likely wouldn’t from the way he spoke to her this morning. More tears ran down her cheeks and she wanted to leave before she broke down again. “I’m just leaving now. Please don’t scream at me and remind me that I don’t get paid to care. I’ll see you at nine a.m. tomorrow morning.” She could barely say the words.

He caught her arm as she tried to rush past him. “Don’t.” He shook his head. “Baby, please don’t leave me. Stay,” he said in a soft voice she’d never heard before. He held her gaze and caught the tear that ran down her cheek. “Amy. Please stay. I’m sorry. We’re not at work now. This is just us.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

He took her hand into his, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it. “No.” He shook his head. “You aren’t. I was completely out of line to speak to you the way I did this morning. I didn’t mean it. Please…stay with me.”

She’d gotten to know this man so well over the last few weeks. In all that time, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him look more guilty or more in need. She nodded and tried to calm herself. Amy followed as he led her back to the sofa and sat her down. She thought he would sit next to her, but instead he surprised her further by kneeling before her.

“I’m really sorry about this morning.”

“It’s okay.”

He shook his head and took her hands into his again. It was odd, it felt so natural for him to touch her and hold her hands. As if they’d been like this for a lifetime.

“It’s not okay, baby.” And that, calling her baby. That felt natural too.

He looked down at where their hands joined, and when he looked back at her, her heart broke as she watched his eyes fill with tears.

“Today’s my sister’s birthday,” he managed. “She was an angel, just like you. She would have been thirty-three years old today, and because of me she’s not here anymore.”

She pulled in a breath as she looked at him and listened.

“Josh. You can’t believe that.”

He nodded. “It’s my fault. My fault my mother and my sister aren’t here anymore. My fault.”

Her heart clenched as she beheld the pitiful sight of him, and she leaned forward to touch his face.

“Josh. It’s not your fault.” She felt bad again that she hadn’t considered that he might blame himself for his mother and sister’s deaths.

“They were coming to see me. They were coming to watch the game because I insisted. I just thought that it would be a big one because we’d won the Super Bowl two years in a row. I didn’t want them to miss it. I didn’t know that meant never seeing them again.”

As he sobbed she slid down to the floor in front of him and put her arms around him so she could hold him. He held her, too, really held her as if for support.

“It’s not your fault, Josh. You’ll be able to see that one day, but until then you can’t blame yourself.” That was the best that she could tell him.

He pulled away and looked at her. “It’s so hard.”

“I know, but you can do it.”

He sighed and looked away, over to the window as the curtains blew out against the evening breeze. Josh then returned his gaze to her and took hold of both her hands. “I need to stop drinking, but I think I need help. And I need you. I need you. I can’t do any of this without you.” That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. “If you hadn’t gotten me to the show on Friday, they would have cut me from the team. They wouldn’t have wanted to, but they would have had to. That would have been the end of my career.”

She’d never met this version of him before. Seeing him like this made her care even more, and she wanted to help him in whatever way she could.

“You have me.” She smiled and leaned into him as he pulled her within the warmth of his embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispered against her hair as he rested his head against hers.

* * *

It was time to face reality.

Time to face the music, as people said.

Josh spoke with Amy for a long time last night. Then there was all the stuff with the police. Corey came by, furious with him for putting him through hell because he thought that he’d been with the police for the sole purpose of identifying Josh’s body if they found him at the bottom of Dead Man’s Gorge.

Josh had never seen Corey look so mad, and so worried. When he first came in he shoved Josh hard in his shoulder and looked like he’d knock him out. Then he ranted on about the way Josh was living and said that no later than this week he’d arrange for him to see a therapist. It was only when Josh agreed quickly that Corey calmed down.

When Corey and Hilda left, Josh asked Amy to stay because the real test for him was resisting any form of drink. Amy had gotten rid of everything in the house, but around these parts alcohol was always available somewhere, and there were always people eager to please the Mancini Machine.

He was grateful when she agreed, and even more grateful when she managed to talk to him as if nothing had happened. She got him talking about football and that distracted him from his routine of drowning himself in his toxic mixture of drinks and concourse of women.

He was determined to change now. Now more than ever.

He wanted to play football again, and he wanted to be the best. He wanted to be the man his family was proud of when they came to watch his games. He wanted to be Joshua Mancini again.

To do that there was one thing he had to make himself do first. That was to go to the cemetery.

He woke early. Amy was still downstairs asleep on the sofa. He’d felt bad that she didn’t get home last night and he should have at the least taken her up to the guest room. But she’d fallen asleep there and he didn’t want to wake her. He felt she’d been through enough for the day so he got her a blanket and covered her up.

He wouldn’t wake her now, either. She’d woken up early enough for him over the last few weeks. So, he left her a note then packed a few things to make the long journey to San Francisco. Corey had arranged to get his Range Rover back for him. Josh was grateful for that.

He made it there in good time, despite the back up of traffic on the road.

There was a morning funeral being conducted when he entered the grounds and the grief-stricken faces of the family reminded him of the mourners at his mother and sister’s funeral.

Josh looked away and continued along the path to where his mother and sister were.

He hated anything like this. He hated the morbid setting, the feeling. Everything. There were no good feelings here. Only what used to be.

People who used to be.

Josh had always hated cemeteries as a child and thought they were a sure place to be haunted. Not much could scare him, but ghost stories always did the job. His first funeral, at age ten, was his grandmother’s. His mother’s mother. That had been terrible. It was also a wakeup call to him, letting him see that people he knew could die. But nothing was as devastating as when his mother and sister were killed. Nothing.

As he approached the site, he stopped and looked at their headstones. Clarissa’s grave had two beautiful bouquets of oriental lilies. They would be from his father and Pete. Josh placed his down next to theirs, and on his mother’s grave he rested the long-stemmed yellow roses he brought for her.

He then sat on the bench nearby and gazed ahead at their graves.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been since the last time,” he told them. Then he started talking about everything that had happened since.

He spent the whole day there and left just before it turned dark. It occurred to him to visit his father but he felt he’d take one step at a time. He desperately wanted to see his father, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it today.

That would be his next big thing, and he promised himself he’d do it soon.

His drinking problem was the demon he wanted to focus on taking down. He didn’t know how long these things took, but he wanted to get himself together and ready for training.

It was late when he got back. Amy would have already left and so would Hilda. He did notice one person, though, who was well overdue his attention.

The boy who constantly watched his house sat on the pavement across the street in front of the Spencer’s house. He wore the same football t-shirt with Josh’s player number and name like he did every time Josh saw him. In the past Josh had driven past, completely ignoring him. He wouldn’t today.

“Hey kid,” he called out.

The boy lifted his head and instant excitement brightened his face.

“Come here,” Josh beckoned him over. The boy ran over with his football tucked under his arm.

“What are you doing out here so late?” It was just after seven.

“Trying to get my chance to see you, sir.”

It shouldn’t have come to this. This boy had been coming by for a long time, standing outside with the hope to see him.

“What’s your name?”

“Riley, sir. I want to be just like you one day. You’re the best.” Riley made his day. People told him that a lot but it was good to hear it from someone who looked at him with such aspiration.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Do you live close by?”

“I live in Mount Ridge.” The boy beamed. That was about a thirty-minute walk from here. Josh felt even worse. “My mom’s friend, Hilda, who works for you, lives on the same block as me.”

The boy knew Hilda. There was another person Josh had treated badly. Unlike the other maids he’d had, he just treated her as if she was non-existent.

“Let me walk you home, son.”

His mouth dropped. “Really, you’d do that?”

“Sure, then we can talk about football. You can tell me about your training.”

His little face fell. “Oh…I don’t train at the moment. I had to stop because my mom couldn’t afford it.”

“Well we’ll have to do something about that, then, won’t we. How about we start tomorrow?” Josh could make time.

Riley gasped and his eyes grew wide. “You’d train me?!” he shrieked.

“Sure.” He nodded and smiled. “Come on, kid. Don’t want your mom and Hilda to get mad at me for having you out so late.”

As they started talking Josh felt good about himself. Today was just the first day, the first step in the direction he wanted to go, but he felt good about himself.

When Josh got back home he prepared himself for night two without a drink. Tonight would be the real test as there was no Amy to keep him distracted with her words and her beauty.

On instinct he went straight into the living room, turned on the CD player, and popped in one of his and Clarissa’s relaxation collections. The first piece to come up was the “Thais Meditation”. He then grabbed one of her old poetry books and started reading.

If any of his friends saw him now they would laugh him to scorn, but this was what helped in the past when he needed to relax, clear his mind, and think.

So maybe it would help again.