Bring Me Back(55)

“No, Kid.” He shakes his head rapidly. “Don’t focus on that. Instead, think about all the things he did get to do.”

“You don’t understand,” I mumble. “He won’t be here to see our child grow up. When they learn to walk and talk. Birthdays. Christmases. He’ll always be missing. I want this baby to love him the way he deserves to be loved, but you can’t love a ghost,” I whisper and look away, overcome with emotion.

“Blaire,” my dad says, his voice full of sadness. He gets up and comes around to hold me. I hold onto his robe and cry into his chest.

“I’m in love with a ghost, dad,” I whimper. “He’s never coming back, but I can’t let go.”

“B,” he says softly, worry clouding his voice, “you don’t have to let go. Moving on is different than letting go.”

“I miss him s-so much,” I sob, my words disjointed. I feel like I’ve said those words a million times but they’re not any less true now. I do miss him. All the time. Every minute. Every hour. Some part of me is always thinking of him.

“Sit here.” My dad guides me to a chair at the kitchen table. “I’ll be right back,” he says, holding his hands out in front of him. My knee bounces restlessly as I wait for him to return. When he does, he has something small clasped in his hands. “I found this a few weeks ago in the closet and I held onto it until you needed it. I haven’t read it, I promise.” He opens his hands, revealing the paper crane.

My breath catches in my throat. I haven’t found one in so long. So long. That I began to think there were no more. I take it gingerly from his hand and hold it in my palms.

My dad bends and kisses my forehead before leaving me alone with the paper crane.

I sit it on the table, just staring at it. A part of me doesn’t want to open it. What if it’s the last one? But I know I could never not open it.

I take my time unfolding the carefully-constructed origami bird.

I close my eyes when I see the thin black lines that form the words he wrote. I’m not ready to look yet. I need a moment.

I inhale a deep breath and exhale slowly.

When I open my eyes, his messy handwriting appears before me.



When you’re feeling down, just look to the sky and be thankful that you’re alive. We all have bad days, but we should never let them make us forget how great it is to live. On those days where it feels like you can’t keep your head up do something nice for someone else. It’ll make you feel better. Trust me. Especially if that someone is me and your ‘something nice’ includes blowjobs.

—Ben



I can’t help it, I laugh. That’s my Ben. Sweet and romantic one second a complete wise ass the next.

I fold the note back up so that it’s a paper crane once more.

“Thanks, Ben,” I say out loud. “I needed that, and I know exactly what to do.”





I walk into Group with my shoulders back and my chin held high. I’m armed with sheets of paper and sharpies. There are a few people already there when I step into the gym, but I’m early so it still gives me a chance to speak with Ryder. He looks up when I walk into the room, his eyes instantly drawn to me. I’m not sure he even notices but his lips lift into a crooked smile and his eyes sparkle. I walk up to him and he excuses himself from speaking to Amy.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” He points at the sheets of paper I clasp to my chest and the markers in my other hand.

“My something nice,” I say with a shrug. His brows furrow in confusion. “It’s my way of healing,” I whisper softly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to explain to everyone and see if they’d like to help.”

“Of course.” He smiles widely. “But you’re not going to tell me first?”

I shake my head. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs at my pathetic attempt at a joke. “Okay,” he agrees, “the floor is yours when you want.”

“Thank you.” I stand there a second longer before taking my seat. I feel nervous but excited about my idea. I have Ben to thank for it, though. It was his words in the last note that gave me the idea. I just hope I can execute it right.

I wait nervously for everyone to arrive and take their seats. Ryder speaks for a few minutes, but I don’t really hear what he says because the blood’s rushing so loud in my ears. When he finishes speaking, he looks across at me and tilts his head, giving me a significant look.

I take a deep breath and stand. I clasp my hands together, my thumbs rotating around each other with nerves.

“Hi, guys,” I say awkwardly. “I … I know Group isn’t really talking about our losses, but in order to explain what I want you to do I need to tell you about Ben.” I take a deep breath and look to the lofted ceiling, giving myself a moment to compose myself. “I’d known Ben while we were in school, but we never really knew each other. Not until college, anyway. From the moment we started hanging out I knew he was different, that what we had was special. We soon began dating and years later became engaged. I put off the wedding because Ben was studying to be a doctor and completing his residency, working crazy hours, and I was starting an event planning business. We finally set a date for this past February, but Ben died in January. A drunk driver t-boned his car.” I clear my throat, trying to get control of my emotions. “He hung on long enough to make it to the hospital and for the doctors to attempt surgery, but he died on the table.” My eyes meet Ryder’s, and he watches me with an encouraging smile. He doesn’t judge me, and for that I’m grateful. “He was such a good person and for months I’ve been so angry at myself, the world, at everything because he died. I’m still angry,” I admit, “but not as much as I was, so I guess that’s progress. Anyway, I’m getting side-tracked. Ben always left me these notes on paper cranes he made. He was making a thousand before our wedding. In Japanese custom, a thousand paper cranes being made by one person before a wedding gives that person one wish to be carried to the heavens—usually the wish for a happy and prosperous marriage.” I press my lips together. “I guess it’s ironic that he’s in heaven now.” I sniffle and pick up the sheets of paper in all different colors. “In one of the notes Ben left for me, he told me that on the days where I feel like I can’t keep my head up to do something nice for someone else. In his memory, I want to start something and I want you guys to help. I’m calling it The Paper Crane project. Like Ben did, I want us all to write notes on them. Positive things. And then make the paper cranes. If you don’t know how to make them, that’s fine. It’s easy and I’ll teach you. This means a lot to me, and I hope you guys will help.” I take a deep breath and sit down, my cheeks suddenly heating with embarrassment as everyone stares at me.