Life In Reverse(88)

It’s the simple things that I missed the most. His know-it-all grin, the way he tugs on that stupid earring when he’s nervous. I missed our talks—about anything, about everything. I missed the comfort of our silences. And I missed his eyes—and how I can see a whole world in them.

“Daydreaming again, are we?” My boss, Monica strolls into the back office, her perfect black bob swishing from side to side. Under one arm, she carries a painting wrapped in brown paper. With her available hand, she smoothes her blue Armani pencil skirt, careful not to damage those brightly polished nails.

“Who, me?” I smile. “Never. Who does such things?”

She stops in front of my desk, surveying me with a subtle lift of her head. “You’ve gotten feistier since you started here. I’m quite enjoying it.” Setting the painting against the wall behind her, she adds, “The last girl who worked for me didn’t know the definition of the word humor.” In a blink, her smile straightens out, focus changing, and she’s back to business. She plucks the proof for the new logo from my inbox. “How are we doing on timing for the updated business cards and postcards?”

I roll the chair to my computer and click the mouse to open up the calendar on my desktop. “I called the printer yesterday but realized they’re closed on Mondays, so I spoke with them this morning and the cards will be here on Thursday. Also, that reminds me. Mrs. Lipman called about that painting she was interested in, and she wants you to give her a call. She has a new cell phone number and address. I sent you an e-mail with her details.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Ember.” She takes a peppermint candy from the bowl on my desk, crinkling the wrapper and popping it in her mouth. A hum leaves her red-stained lips and she smiles. “I’ve always loved these things.” Designer heels click on the polished wood as she winks then saunters off. “I’ll leave you to your daydreaming.”

My mind refocuses on work as I make adjustments to a customer spreadsheet when a knock sounds on the door. Looking up from my paperwork, I notice a young kid standing there in a baseball hat, chewing gum like a cow grazing in a field. In his hand is a bouquet of pink roses. The color alone gives me pause.

“You Ember Bennett?” he asks in a thick New York accent, blowing a deep green bubble.

“Yes, that’s me.”

He struts over and lays the flowers along with a small card on my desk. “These are for you.” Holding out a clipboard, he taps his thumbnail on the signature line. “Sign here, please.” Then he stares up at the ceiling and continues to chomp on his gum as if I’m boring him.

Eyes glued to the card, I sign quickly and give him a hasty thanks and a tip before he disappears. I slide my thumb under the flap of the miniature envelope to pry it open. Inside sits a simple white card with a handwritten message.



Ember,

I MISSED YOU TOO.

xo Vance



Four words—and I’m breathless. How is that possible?

With the card pressed to my chest, I let his words seep into me. They burrow under my skin, filling me with him as if he never left. I guess in many ways he didn’t. He was always there, tucked away in a corner of my heart I had to ignore—because I had no choice.

But now it seems that I do. Except fear haunts me, following me around like a shadow—never letting me forget that the two people I’ve loved most, I’ve lost. First Zack, and then Vance. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to handle it happening again.

A silvery glint catches my eye. I pick up the flowers and unwrap the foil, setting their powerful fragrance free. In between one of the roses, hanging off a green stem is the Mickey Mouse key ring from the toy store. The one I said I didn’t want—which I did—and of course Vance knew that.

My lips twitch and this peculiar fullness engulfs my chest, bigger than I can handle. My eyes swell and I close them, wanting to keep all the feelings inside. Even then, they sneak out. Fear and longing roll down my cheeks, until I’m crying about nothing, about everything. Overwhelmed by the past, trying to keep myself afloat in the present. It’s funny. I’m so good at expressing myself with words and sculpting. But when it comes to the hard stuff, I’m lost. I’m afraid.

It’s not good enough anymore. I’m twenty-five years old and I need to get it together. I sit up straighter in my chair and brush the tears away from my cheeks. My brain wanders for a minute until I realize I’m doing too much thinking and not enough acting. So I stop the madness in my head and open my desk drawer, reaching into my purse for my cell phone.



Me: Thank you for the beautiful flowers and the key ring



Vance: You’re welcome



Me: That was really thoughtful



Vance: I can be thoughtful when I want to be



I laugh.



Me: I love them and you were right, I did want the key ring



Vance: I know. And I’m also wise. You should listen to me more often



Unsure of what I want to say next, I pause with my fingers over the keypad. When I don’t respond, I wait to see if Vance types something else. But he doesn’t and that’s okay. There’s something more important I need to do anyway.





“I’M NOT USED to seeing you in a t-shirt and jeans.” Grant stares down at his black pants and crisp white shirt. “I feel a bit overdressed.”