Page 29 of My Merciless Don

“Well, for one thing it will help me to understand this weird thing that we have going on. We're supposed to be working together on the deal of a lifetime but there's this huge pink elephant in the room and I just think that it would be better if we addressed it head on.”

I huffed in rueful amusement. “You're probably right. You should see what she looks like and it maybe will help you to understand what happened a little better. Unfortunately, I do not have any photos of her in the house. After what happened, I could not bear to look at her face.”

Audry's shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Seriously? Not even one picture?”

I shrugged, shaking my head. “Not even one. However, I can take you to where you can see her, if you want to go.”

She gave me an eager look, “Yes, I do. Can we go now?”

I drove her to the cemetery in my 1980 red Dodge Charger. It wasn't a car that was recognizable to any of my competitors seeing as I hardly ever drove it. My father and I had spent many hours alone together in the garage restoring her. It felt right that she be the one to take us on this journey of remembrance.

Amy had loved it. She kept saying that she couldn't wait until we could go on a road trip in it, just the two of us. We even talked about doing it on our honeymoon, just driving around America like the Winchester brothers.

For such a shy and quiet person, Amy had quite the adventurous streak. Hell, she was going to marry a gangster after all. She made everything fun with her innocence and joy. I knew that if she was here right now, she'd be letting her silky brunette curls just blow in the wind, laughing uproariously, and asking me to go faster.

She loved speeding as long as someone else was driving.

I was glad for the wind which wiped the tears from my face before Audry could see them. The closer we got to the cemetery the more I was sure this was a really bad idea.

What am I doing?

There was no reason to take Audry to see Amy. There were implications to that action that I did not want. It felt as if I was trying to replace her.

“Tell me about Amy.”

I jerked and flicked a glance in Audry’s direction. “Why?”

“I'm just curious. Wouldn't you be curious if you were told you had a doppelganger?”

I pursed my lips and looked away, “She’s not a fairy tale or a story. She was a real person.”

“Yeah, no, I know that.” She stuttered, her face flushing with what might have been embarrassment as she looked away from me. “I didn’t mean it that way.” She murmured.

We completed the rest of the journey in awkward silence. As we drove into the gates of the cemetery, my mind could not help leaping back to the day of her funeral. The place had been packed with an awful lot of people, most of whom I didn't know. There were Amy’s friends from work, the various charities that she was associated with, the dog shelter where she volunteered, her church group - she sang in the choir - and just randoms she'd met at one time or another in her life. They were all there to say goodbye to her.

It filled me with even more rage and pain, to know that this excellent person, who meant so much to so many, had been cut down because of me. Because she loved me.

I remember asking her one time how a regular church goer could reconcile with marrying a criminal. She played me the George Michael video Outside and told me to pay attention to the end, where a billboard appears with the message ‘Jesus saves’ and then typed slowly - so you’re sure not to miss it - ‘all of us.’

“I mean that’s great, but I think George Michael was talking about sexuality and not criminality.” I said dryly.

“It's not my place to judge.” She had said and then shrugged. “Besides, I mostly go to church for the singing, I love it. I also love going for karaoke in gay bars. You should come with me sometime.”

I promised her I would, but only after the wedding.

“I'll hold you to that.” She said to me, smiling coyly and making me kiss her until we both saw stars.

I never did go.

I didn’t even get the chance to ask if she meant I should accompany her to church or the gay bars. It was just another thing to regret.

I parked the car and then took Audry’s hand and led her to Amy’s tombstone. Gravity seemed to be pressing down on me and each attempt to lift my foot and put it back down took actual effort. It was as if I had a heavy ball chained to my ankle. Ironic, considering that Amy was supposed to be my ‘ball and chain’ – though I never would have thought of her in such a derogatory way. Amy was such a light in my life, she made me think that there was more to living then making money and earning the respect of other gangsters.

“Like who cares? Let's dance.” She would say to me, pulling me out of my office chair and making me jump around the room with her for thirty minutes instead of calling my Yakuza associates in Japan to make sure that our next shipment was on time. I had to work later as a result, but it was always totally worth it.

Suddenly I missed her like a severed limb. They don't tell you that about grief, that is not a linear, but rather circular. You might go through all the stages, but that doesn't mean shit.

One day you wake up and you're in denial. You think that that person is just in the other room, brushing her long brown hair and humming to herself. You hesitate to get out of bed, just because as long as you stay there, the fantasy is real.

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