Page 33 of Even After This
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.” He strokes my hair with a gentle touch. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”
I don’t understand why, but in the middle of this profound moment of sadness, he is able to provide a foundation of peace, to endure and wait while the anguish passes.
As we sit a while longer, my breathing slows and my other senses return. The bright sunlight streaks through the clouds and draws lines across the moose that relaxes twenty feet from us. When did he show up? An elephant calls from over the hill.
Instead of being consumed with torment, my brain is functioning again. Words and energy evade me, but I’m grateful to be on the other side of the beastly grief attack.
Harlan clenches his jaw, then glimpses around and back to me. “Let’s get you back to the hotel. I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”
My eyes are filled with moisture yet scratchy at the same time. Vitality has drained from me. But I stare at him with a boldness I don’t often allow. “Okay.”
On our way out, it occurs to me that I enjoyed being friends with Harlan, if only for a brief while. But I won’t hear from him after today.
The only people who stick with me through similar episodesare either in my support group or my immediate family. No doubt my massive emotional attack has scared him away.
Meeting Harlan Holcombe will soon fade to an amusing story to tell at parties.
But secretly I will know.
I will know that one beautiful autumn afternoon, Harlan Holcombe bore my sorrow like a champion friend.
And secretly I will know that on that same beautiful autumn afternoon, I fell a little bit in love with him because he did.
8
“Itake it by your clothing choicewe’re staying in for room service?”
I blink. Am I still asleep?
Harlan Holcombe. At my hotel room door.
I blink again.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Harlan leans a shoulder against my doorjamb and crosses his arms. “I dig the pink camouflage sweatpants, but the shower cap might draw some unwanted attention.”
Shower cap?
Shower cap!
“I smelled like a giraffe, so I took a bath.” Unable to decide which half of my statement is more embarrassing, I move on to figure out what’s happening. “Um.” My hand reaches nonchalantly to drag the cap down the back of my head. “Why are you here?”
He pushes off the frame and stands alert. “When I dropped you off at your room, I told you I’d check on you for dinner. Do you remember?”
Grief makes my life hazy. Not in an I-just-need-to-take-a-mental-break way, but in more of a did-I-forget-to-put-on-deodorant kind of way. I tap my fingers on my lips as the montage of the day runs through my mental movie reel.
Yes. He mentioned dinner, but I didn’t believe him. I don’t trust most of what I remember because it resembles a bizarre dream. One where Harlan Holcombe held my hand all the way back to the hotel, walked me to my room, removed my shoes, and tucked me under a blanket to sleep off the rest of my tears.
He nods in the direction of the table right inside the door. “May I?”
The hand with the shower cap points. “Use my phone?” When I spot the outstretched cap, I whip my arm behind my back.
The side of his mouth quirks. “Yeah. I need to touch base with room service.”
“Sure, but be nice to that phone. Things didn’t end well for its cohort.”
Harlan pauses, receiver in midair.
I turn and call back over my shoulder, “Long story.”
