Page 73 of Holding On

Cami herself is nice, and I’m finding myself increasingly grateful for her friendship, even before I consider how much I’ve come to look forward to her yoga sessions. My days are filled with various physical therapists that I’m working with multiple times a week, and it all can easily feel overwhelming and frustrating. It has been thirty-five days since the accident, and even with everyone saying I am healing well and doing great—it’s not enough.

I’m not back.

I’m not whole.

I’m still stuck. I can’t take a big breath like usual. There’s no way I could perform a full set with all the movement around stage, let alone walk around carrying my guitar and singing when I can’t properly control my breath. Jack and Wells have both vowed that I will get back to my previous capacity, if not better, and I believe them most days, but it still really sucks to sit in the in between.

In between who I was and who I will be one day.

In between the accident and having answers.

In between having my best friend and the nightmare of existing without her presence in my life.

I know it could’ve all been worse—God, do I know that and am reminded every single day when I think of Fiona—but that tragic loss doesn’t eliminate my own injuries.

A loud groan next to me pulls me from my spiral—almost making me laugh. Cami’s best friend Cara joined us for this session, and while I don’t know Cara well, she is a ball buster, and I might love her. “Keep that shit up, Cami, and I’m going to fall asleep here. You can pick up Mila and Dante from school, or text Max. He’ll handle it.”

Cami rolls her eyes and bites back a giggle. “As we come back to ourselves and the room, thank you for honoring your body and showing up for yourself today. Whatever that looked like, it was just what you needed. Namaste.”

“Na-ma-stay on this floor and take a nap,” Cara adds and I lose it, breaking into laughter. Forget a pity party, she’s more fun.

Allie busts a gut from the other side of me. “You have no filter, do you?” Cara shakes her head with a grin.

“How did I go this long without meeting you?” I ask her. She lives downstairs with her boyfriend Max, one of Jack’s best friends that works with him and Wells at Lux. I’ve known Max forever, and I knew he was dating someone, but I didn’t know she was this fabulous.

She shrugs. “They probably didn’t want to scare you away. It’s the New Yorker in me.”

Cami bursts out laughing. “You aren’t even from New York!” Cara shrugs.

“What?! Make it make sense!” Allie declares, looking back and forth between the friends.

“Oh, yeah. I forget I don’t have to sell that bullshit.” She looks at me and waves her hand like she’s shooing away a fly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a different story for another day. All that matters is that it’s a happy ending, or will be, one day.”

“It will be, Cara.” Cami reaches over and squeezes her hand. They don’t offer more information, and I’m realizing I’m okay with not having all the details when it comes to them. They somehow make it okay to not have all the answers, and I’m not quite sure how they do it. Cami oozes enough zen and calm that I think they could casually mention they have a pet tyrannosaurs rex that wears a pink bow without any context, and I would just nod and smile.

We wrap up our yoga session, promising to do it again soon, and head back downstairs as Cami and Cara both have to get to their regular jobs. Cara is the same woman that brought Sprinkles to town and I love her for those muffins alone, and that’s before I realized she was a sassy queen too. When Cami mentioned having Cara and Allie join our sessions occasionally when I felt up to it, I asked her to make it happen as soon as it worked with Cara’s schedule, and I’m glad it was sooner than later.

I’m cutting up an apple to add to a salad when my brother’s name pops up on my cell phone’s screen. I haven’t seen him since the funeral last week, but that almost feels like a small step back into a normal routine—to not have him hovering over me every second of the day. I love my brother, but I think we function better with some breathing room. It was nice seeing him so much but him watching me like a hawk was throwing me off balance a bit.

He had started to monitor my caffeine intake, and that was like a shot of war. Granted, he’s so smart it’s not like he needed a notepad or spreadsheet to keep track, but still. Leave my coffee alone and everyone can be happy.

“Hey, broseph. What’s up?” I put my phone on speaker so I can finish putting together my salad for lunch. I have an hour before the next physical therapist comes and I don’t even know which one is next, but Allie keeps them all straight for me. She’ll be back up here from my brother’s loft in the next half hour or so. “Where in the world are you today?”

“Hey, Tinsley. I’m in London again. Where are you right now?” He sounds calm—too calm—and all my hackles go up. It’s also an odd question—he knows where I am in general. He didn’t ask what I was doing; he asked where I physically was.

I still and set the knife down, picking up my phone and leaning against the counter. “I’m in Jack’s penthouse in Forrest Falls. What’s wrong?”

“Are you alone?”

My eyebrows scrunch at his response. He didn’t answer my question. Something is wrong. “Yeah, Allie will be back in half an hour or so. She’s down in your loft showering after some yoga we did with Cami and Cara. Why? Wells. What. Is. Wrong?” I articulate each word as though that will force him to answer.

He pauses—when has my brother ever hesitated to tell me anything? “It’s Mom.”

Oh, great. “Lovely. What did she do now? Is it another interview?”

My brother blows out a big breath on the other end of the phone. “She’s gone, Tins.”

Wait. What?