Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
If I hadn’t asked her to come with me, maybe she could have found happiness with someone back home. She wasn’t meant for this life, and I wasn’t meant to be tied down to small town Iowa. My cousins were right, all of them, we weren’t ready. It will forever be on me that she lost herself in following my dreams, my goals, and my aspirations.
Back then, I had a narrow-minded thought process. It all seemed simple, cut and dry. Life, growing up, being married, having kids, there is nothing simple about any of it. I did this to her. She got tied up looking for an escape and got hooked on the wrong shit with the wrong people. Some debts can only be paid in blood. She has paid hers and the pain she felt each, and every day is gone. Doesn’t mean my son feels the loss any less.
That will forever be on me.
I sit on my back porch inhaling the salt of the ocean air. Far from where I came from, this is home. I never would have been happy in Iowa, and she never would have been happy here. I don’t regret my love and time with her, I have Hollis and my life here in coastal NC. While I’m grateful for it all, I wish it could have ended differently.
Fall is settling in, and the evening is cool as the sun closes out the day. The sliding glass door of my trailer opens, Maritza emerges. I pat the seat beside me, and she obliges my request.
“Hollis, he’s in the shower.”
I nod as she takes a seat beside me with her mug of evening tea.
“What’s on your mind?” Maritza inquires of me.
I sigh. “A little of this, a little of that.”
“If you wanna share, I’m here. Maybe I was out of it from pain, delusional on meds, but there are things from Florida, I dreamed you said, I suppose. There are things for Hollis that we need to sort too. I don’t know how we figure this out for him.”
I can’t help the half smile that forms. This is Maritza, laying shit out. Another thing I love about her, she wants me to open up.
“Not sure we need to let things get heavy, Zizi.”
She gives me a look from over her mug. “I think shit has been heavy with us for a very long time, Dillon. I think watching your ex-wife die while worrying over your son made things more than heavy between us.”
“The way you are with my son,” I pause and take a pull of my beer, “I’ll never be able to say thank you enough.”
“He’s very special and an important part of my life,” she tells me what I already know.
“Actions, Zizi, they matter. It’s not just Hollis. Even Anna. You gave her support in ways I never could.”
She takes a sip of her tea.
“I loved her once. Or I thought I did. The younger me, the untainted me, had love for her.”
Maritza nods. It’s funny how most people push for more. Maritza never has. She always allows me the freedom to say as little or as much as I care to share. Never pushing for more.
I want more.
So much more.
Is she ready for that?
THIRTEEN
MARITZA
Evenings on the porch sipping tea with Hollis and Dillon are peaceful. I’m comfortable.
More than I care to admit.
I keep telling myself to stop this. We are all getting into a routine and it’s not going to be healthy for Hollis when the time comes to find a new normal.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. As much as playing house seems nice in theory, it is not helping any of us for the long term. I’ve been staying here most nights until Hollis goes to bed since we returned from Florida. He is coping with the loss of his mother and the trauma of watching so much unfold. He can’t seem to sleep unless he knows I’m here and still alive. Once he’s sleeping heavy, I intend to go home. The thing is I keep falling asleep on the futon in his room. Dillon doesn’t want to wake me, so I end up spending the night.
I wish I could take the pain away for Hollis and Dillon. Watching his son struggle I can see the hurt in Dillon’s eyes that he can’t fix this. There is nothing any of us can do but give it time and be a support system. I found a therapist for Hollis that specializes in childhood grief counseling. It seems to be helping for him to have this outlet to release everything he feels from the guilt of my injury to the betrayal of his mother and ultimately her death. If only there was a magic wand to wipe away the hurt he feels. I would give anything for that, but I can’t and as much as Dillon wants to fix it, he can’t either.