Page 20 of Never Too Late

Lottie Mae Rivers.

Loving girlfriend, loyal friend, brightest light.

Gone but will never be forgotten.

Forever young.

1997- 2022

“I wish I could introduce you both under better circumstances,” Idah quietly whispers, not taking her eyes from the headstone.

“Introductions, all the same. Thank you for showing me this space and introducing me to Lottie. If there’s one thing I understand the most, it’s people we love who leave. This is nothing new to me and losing people isn’t either. She’s still here you know,” I whisper quietly, ensuring only Idah is able to hear my confession as I start to lightly tap my heart in declaration. “In here. They never leave here.”

She doesn’t reply verbally, but I notice the small movement in her face as her mouth forms a smile and I see the instant glimmer in her eyes. Without saying one word to one another, she reaches over and takes a hold of my hand, and in return, I put my arm around her shoulder, bringing her close to me in an attempt to create some sort of protection for both of us.

Any other time, I wouldn’t act so rationally towards someone I’ve only just met. But if the army has taught me anything, it’s that we care for those around us. I’ve never struggled to make friends with others and with Idah this all feels natural. It’s almost as though we’ve known each other all along.

And so, for the next hour we sit in silence gazing upon the sunflowers standing in a row playing guardians to the headstone. I hold onto her to protect her from the outside world during the time we are spending here together. I don’t just say a prayer for Lottie, I take a hold of my dog tags around my neck, and I squeeze as I whisper a prayer to all those I have lost in my life too.

Chapter eleven

Dax

“Did I tell you I have your photo in my helmet? I know you don’t like photos. But I’m not sorry.”

Hiring a guitar teacher at the shop has been one of the best and one of the most stupid ideas that has ever entered my mind. That being said, we did have a successful turnout with the first handful of lessons and now, Tyler has got into his head he wants to form some sort of rock band, which is both scary and amazing to see. I haven’t seen him excited about something in a long time, and that I’m thankful for. And he isn’t the only one who has been excited. On the days of music lessons, the shop has quickly become a hub for younger children and teens who are also as excited to learn as we are.

But no matter how excited I am about a new business prospect, I can’t help the feeling of dread because honestly, children scare me. It’s not the children themselves which worry me, it’s the endless loop of memories which play over in my head from when I was younger. The thoughts of what gets said to those who are different, how people react when others do anything differently, the pressure, the instability.

Growing up, I have always been open and honest about not wanting to have children due to the fear and responsibility that comes along with them, to which everyone’s reply was, “You just haven’t met the right person yet. You will when you do.”

But nope, children were not on the cards for me. Not now. Not ever.

My bike is my child; that’s enough.

When the younger students fill the store, the excitement and energy fills the room. I can’t recall a time when I had last seen Tyler with so much happiness since opening day. It was almost as though a spark in him came alight. And he deserved to be happy. The moment we knew Mum wouldn't be coming home, he did the unforgettable. He dropped everything to become the parent to me, to take the place of the one I no longer had. With no questions or hesitation, both our worlds changed within the blink of an eye. And I will always feel as though he suffered more than I did. He made sure I had a chance to get out. I had a chance to live my dreams. While he sat and placed his on hold. I’ve never taken what he has done for me, for granted. I could never thank him enough. The excitement and energy that came from him when the store was filling up, reminded me of our family nights with Mum. And I think he feels that way, too.

The students didn’t only bring life into the store; they brought life into us.

Since the first lesson three weeks ago, I have noticed a small boy who must be around the age of twelve or thirteen routinely coming into the store in his school uniform looking at the guitars displayed along the back wall. I’ve learnt that he never touches them, but he likes to look at them, it is the same at the music lessons. He doesn’t have any intention of playing but he does come with an older brother, and he enjoys watching him play as well as watching everyone else.

Each time he comes into the store, I notice him wearing a sunflower lanyard around his neck and a pair of headphones, which, after a quick realisation, aren’t headphones but are ear defenders, which are mostly used to cancel out the noise around him. I imagine they come in handy during the guitar lessons. They aren’t the thing that stands out to me the most though. It’s the way his face lights up when he watches his brother play as he focuses on his finger movements with the strings, it’s the same way I felt when I started listening to music whenever I wanted to drown out all the other noises around me.

The music makes him feel grounded.

While in the store, I haven’t noticed him communicating with anyone other than his brother, and it pains me seeing no one try to talk to him either. During my years in education, I had always been seen as an outsider. People didn’t take the time to get to know me, therefore many people didn’t understand me, and over the years, I learnt that was okay. It’s okay for people not to understand you. But you will also meet people who do. When you meet those people, you hold on tightly and you don’t let go.

And to those who don’t put in the effort to understand you or don’t acknowledge you, it’s their loss.

Seeing him looking at the guitars reminds me of a small part of myself and with that, each time he comes in I make sure he’s comfortable. I don’t go over to talk to him, and he doesn’t come to talk to me. Instead, I offer him a friendly smile, making sure he knows I’m here if he needs anyone, and I hide away behind the counter so I’m close by for whatever reason and he knows where to find me.

“Hey, bro, I have it covered here. Why not go get us some coffees from next door?” I hear Tyler pant, struggling to breathe as I notice him carrying a stack of boxes full of stock down the staircase to put on the shop floor. Part of me is confused he’s actually putting out stock, but the other part of me doesn’t question as a coffee is exactly what is needed right now.

“Hey, Jackie,” I cheerfully announce as I walk over to the counter in Cee’s, Jackie is one of the only other individuals Cee will accept help from apart from me and Tyler, and before I manage to reply to her, I have a coffee in front of me almost as though she has a sixth sense and knew I was about to walk through the door. Without a reason to rush back to the shop, I take the freshly made drink and make my way to the table in front of the window. My favourite seat. Not only can I see the entrance of Ocean Notes so I can rush back in case a large number of customers enters, but I can see the rest of the high street and the ocean in the far distance behind, and for my shared efforts of teasing Tyler and doing nothing else, I think I deserve a break and a sit down.

Recently, since I’ve attempted to get back into reading, my Kindle has come most places with me, so I take a moment to relax, returning to the book I’ve been reading in the hope I can get lost in the world for a little while. I’ve never been picky about what I enjoy reading, as long as I have a good plot, I am sold. After debating between multiple titles, I decide to return back to Entangled by Rebecca Quinn and take a moment to laugh at myself. I have never been more jealous of a woman in my life. Not only does she have a decent cheese supply, she has multiple men there to pleasure her every want and need. I can’t even handle one army guy, let alone five. But a guy can dream, right?

However, dreamland is quickly disturbed shortly after sitting down as the entrance door flies wide open and in comes strolling the same red-haired girl who walked into my shop not so long ago. Idah. I think.

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