Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(67)

I collapse to my knees on the snow-covered sidewalk and I cry.

*

It takes me three days to shower. My mom respects my need to be alone. She needed time to grieve my dad. And now I need time to grieve Griffin. Nate knows nothing yet because he’s on holiday break, which means I’m on holiday break.

By day five, the intervention starts. I wonder if Griffin left my mom and his family a guide to Swayze.

Give her five days then please step in and offer her a hand and a hug.

“Hey, sweetie. Happy New Year.” My mom smiles, walking in the back door with Sherri behind her.

They’re just now coming in the house, but I’ve seen my mom’s car and the Calloway’s vehicles pulling in and out of the driveway for days. I’m pretty sure they peek in the windows at night just to make sure I haven’t slit my wrists. That chance at a new life, albeit appealing, isn’t what I want quite yet. I’m hell-bent on finishing one good life.

Unfortunately, the good part left me five days ago with no real goodbye, but I forgive him.

I blink several times. Today I make it to the sofa, but all I can do is stare at the wall where the TV used to be. He offered to leave it, but I don’t watch it, so it would have been a silly thing to leave behind.

“I have soup. Today you should eat.”

I nod once, my head still heavy from days of grieving, pulse palpable in my swollen eyes.

“Coffee, the good kind.” Sherri hands me a cup of coffee and sits next to me.

It’s not hazelnut. Doesn’t matter. I’m thinking about giving up coffee and all other parts of my life that remind me of Griffin. Agreeing to stay in this house was a stupid idea. The memories only serve as painful reminders.

“He wanted me to tell you he made it safely to his destination.” Sherri rests her hand on my knee as I continue to watch the blank wall.

His destination. The place I’m not allowed to know about. A clean break. There’s nothing clean about this break. It’s so fucking messy I can’t see past the cluttered images in my head. It’s a maze with a hundred marbles crashing into each other and no way out.

“Tell him I’m good,” I say in a monotone voice.

Mom hands me the soup and a spoon. Sherri takes the coffee from me.

“Are you?” Sherri asks.

I nod several times, stirring the wild rice soup. “I will be.”

I don’t know that at all. There’s a lot on my docket: forgetting Griffin, resurrecting the dead, and catching a killer. No big deal. At least Scott’s been shoveling the driveway. If he could arrest Doug, that would be awesome too. Something tells me that’s not what a CPA does.

A shame.

“I’m going to grab groceries later. I’ll pick some staples up for you too,” my mom says from the kitchen.

I’m guessing she’s inspecting the fridge. It’s pretty pathetic. Yesterday I decided to give my stomach something to digest besides itself and a shitload of grief, but the best I could find was that crappy sprouted grain bread. I doused it in butter. It worked.

“I’ll go to the store.”

She peeks her head around the corner. “You will?”

I don’t know why she looks so surprised. Well, maybe I do. The death-warmed-over look might lead outsiders to believe that I’m struggling a bit.

It hurts to look at Sherri without feeling shame. What must she really think of me? Even if she wants to believe that I am Daisy reincarnated, she can’t know for sure. At least part of her has to think “maybe she’s just crazy.”

A tiny part of me thought that too, until Dr. Albright hypnotized me. And now I know without a shadow of doubt, I was Daisy.

“It wasn’t fair to go with him … and it wasn’t fair to ask him to stay.” After a pregnant pause, I look at Sherri.

She gets a little teary-eyed. “I know. But at least he left with things good between the two of you. No hard feelings.”

My lips attempt a small smile. By the time Griffin left, I’m certain the only feelings between us were hard, raw, and painful. It simply hurt more to be apart than it did to be together.

“So …” Sherri slaps her hands on her legs. “The girls are on break for two more days. Let’s all go get manicures and pedicures. My treat.”

I love her. I love all of Griffin’s family. I love the way they’ve not only welcomed me, but they’ve formed a special bond with my mom. Do I have to break up with them too? What will happen when Griffin comes home to visit them? Will I be given notice to stay away?

I set my soup on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back.” Without actually running, I retreat to the bedroom and shut the door, leaning back against it. My heart feels so laid bare. Vulnerable to every thought, every memory. Eventually, it won’t feel this hard to breathe when I think of never seeing Griffin again. But I’m not there yet. Not even close.

Fisting both hands to my heart, I dig deep to find that elusive next breath. Then I dive back down and find another one.

One breath.

One second.

One day at a time.

“Swayze?” My mom knocks at the door.

I open the door and she slips in, shutting it behind her.

She tucks my hair behind my ear and rests her hand on my cheek.

“It gets easier, right?” I choke on the pain.