The Fix by Kristin Rouse

Author:Kristin Rouse [Rouse, Kristin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Women's Fiction
Publisher: City Owl Press
Published: 2017-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

The window across from the chaise in Jules’s living room faces east. I’m watching the sun rise as I chew on the filter end of a cigarette. I want to light it, but it feels like too much effort right now to put shoes and a jacket on to go outside. It’s been several days since I slept more than a couple of hours at a time without long periods of restlessness in between. My eyes burn from it. Nothing I’ve tried—not sex, not jogging, not any sort of herbal remedy Jules keeps on hand for just such an occasion—has helped. Nothing probably will, not when it comes to Mac’s anniversary.

The sun’s warming the soles of my feet through the window when Jules steps out of the bedroom, looking tousled and gorgeous. She nudges my thigh until I scoot over enough for her to curl up on the chaise next to me. I think she’s fallen asleep on my chest until I hear her speak.

“You never talk about him. Will you tell me about him?”

I want to say no, but I imagine that the day someone died, you should talk about them, even when it’s painful.

“What do you want to know about him?”

“What’d he look like?”

I pull up a picture of Mac in my mind and it brings a stinging smile to my face. “Big, broad. Hair like mine, eyes like mine. He could have been a linebacker for how wide his shoulders were. He had to turn to the side to go through most doors.”

Once I start, it’s difficult to stop.

“He never drank coffee, only tea. He’d make it so bitter and stout, though, it smelled and looked like coffee. He had this sort of laugh that just echoed—like, seriously, it bounced off the walls, it was so strong.

“He couldn’t sing—which didn’t stop him from trying. And he had this hideous tie with turkeys on it, in these ridiculous little Pilgrim hats he wore on Thanksgiving. It didn’t matter if it was just me and him and Dylan for Thanksgiving, he insisted we all wear a collared shirt and tie and slacks, and I’m pretty sure it was just so that he could get away with wearing that ugly tie. He loved it because Dylan and I hated it.” I’m smiling, but really, it’s taking everything in my power not to sob.

“And you really called him ’Mac?’ Not ’Dad?’”

“Always Mac. Everyone called him Mac. He’d yell at our friends if they ever tried to call him ‘Mr. Mackenzie.’”

“He sounds like a wonderful guy.”

“He was. I… I really miss him, Jules.”

She holds me as I start to full-on blubber. I miss him so much it hurts. It sinks in all over again that I’ll never get him back. I’ll never get the goodbye we didn’t have. All I’ll have are twenty-five years of memories of him, and the ones that ought to be the sharpest are the most muddled because of my drinking.

It’s a long while before I’m put together again, although I still feel hollow.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.