Where One Goes(75)

The finality of it all hits me. This is it. How am I supposed to sum up how much he means to me? There aren’t enough words meaningful or poetic enough to show how I feel or that would do him justice. Lamely, I say, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Ike gives me his signature sly grin. “What will you miss most? My amazing sense of humor, or this hot body?” He motions a hand down from his head to his toes.

I can’t help but chuckle through the tears I refused to shed only moments before. “Your ass. That’s my final answer. Mostly that hot ass of yours,” I laugh.

Ike laughs out loud, his eyes twinkling. “I knew you only liked me for my epic ass. You’re so cliché,” he jests.

We both grow quiet and I take another stab at expressing my feelings for him. “I’ll miss your laugh, your killer smile, and Ike, you do have a killer smile. Sometimes it hurts, it’s so beautiful. I’ll miss how you always find a way to make me laugh. I’ll miss the sound of your dog tags jingling under your shirt as you move around.” His soft brown eyes stare into mine as I speak, soaking up every word.

“I’ll miss your potty mouth,” he tells me, and we both grin. “I’ll miss how calm and peaceful you look while you’re sleeping. You have no idea how badly I’ve wished I could touch you when you’re sleeping, your skin so soft and smooth. And I’ll miss your courage and kindness.”

“Thank you, Ike,” I say, as my lip trembles. “I’ve never thanked you for saving me.”

“Oh, baby girl, you saved me,” he says, softly, as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. “I’m dead and I still got to fall in love with my best friend. I’m a lucky bastard.”

“D-do you think we’ll see each other again? On the other side, I mean?”

He takes a deep breath. “I do. But not for a long time,” he insists. “You’re going to grow old, Charlotte. You’re going to live a long and beautiful life. The happy life you deserve.”

“But when it’s time, if you can, will you try to find me? Will it be you who welcomes me to the other side? I want to know that you’re okay.”

“Come hell or high water,” he promises. “And I mean it. If I can be the one to bring you over to . . . wherever it is, I will. But I need something from you.”

“Anything,” I weep softly.

“Wait for George. He has a plan. Give him some time, he’ll come around.”

I wipe my face on the pillow my head is resting on and nod. “I want to, but what if he doesn’t come around?”

“He will,” he assures me. “I know he will. And don’t feel guilty for loving him, Charlotte. Maybe a lot of people wouldn’t understand it, but I do. I know what’s in your heart. I know how much you love us both. You just love us in a different way. Don’t ever feel bad for that.”

We talk for hours, saying our good-byes. And I pray for vigor the entire time. I promise him I won’t ever be that girl he found on the bridge the night we met. That much I’m sure of. He’s changed my outlook on life, and I’m a stronger person because he believed in me. He promises his heart will remain here with me. And I know that even when I can’t hear or see him, his memory will always give me strength. He tells me stories about his childhood, beautiful and simple stories to keep my mind from unraveling. He’s always had the gift to distract me so I don’t breakdown. And I don’t know what time it is, but my eyes have grown so heavy, I can barely stand it.

“Go to sleep, baby girl,” he whispers.

“Will you be here when I wake?”

His warm eyes meet mine and he smiles softly. “I’ll always be with you, Charlotte. Always. Right here.” And he points to his chest.

That means no. This is it. I want to protest. Beg him not to go, but I have no energy left. As my eyelids close, refusing to stay open, even though I desperately want them to, I tell him the truest and most pure thing I can. “I love you, Ike McDermott.”

“I love you, too, baby girl,” he whispers. “Here, there, forever.”

And come morning, I know that this is the last time I’ll ever see or speak to the beautiful and wondrous soul that is Ike McDermott.





I watch her sleep until the early rays of the morning sun begin to stream in to the room. She slept restless, crying softly in her sleep and calling out for me, begging me not to go.

I want to be angry and hateful about how unfair this is. But I can’t. For I feel truly at peace. I was given a gift. This beautiful woman not only saved my brother, but she loves me. In that, I can only rejoice. I think back to how George was. I feared he’d waste away to a shadow of his former self. She is the beacon of light that my brother needed. I can rest easy now.

After using all of my will and strength, I finally stand, allowing my eyes to slowly graze over her; getting my last visual fill before I leave. I have to go before she awakes or it’ll only drag out the emotional hell we’re both going through. She needs to begin the healing process and she can’t do that while I’m still here. In these last few seconds, I commit to memory every physical detail of her that I can; her long, dark hair, soft, pink lips, and smooth skin. But the best thing about her is her newfound joyous and spunky personality. I imagine her laugh, how light and beautiful it is. And that makes me grin. These memories are what will hold me through what lies ahead. The remembrance of her and what she has done for me and my family will be what gives me the courage to move on.