Page 4 of Done Waiting

Sighing, my gaze goes back to my dad’s casket. I’ve become apathetic since I lost him. I haven’t been able to go to work, I barely sleep, and I don’t eat unless Chloe or Ben reminds me to. They usually end up bringing me food or snacks because after I grunt out a “yeah, I need to eat,” I immediately forget I should.

They go on living while the dark cloud of depression drags me under, weakening me to the point I no longer care if I wake up in the rare moments I fall asleep. Although I’m lethargic and tired, I don’t want to sleep. I have nightmares about my dad’s motorcycle accident.

My mom came over to visit me the following day after my dad’s death, and I pestered her until she gave in, providing the details of his accident. I thought I could handle it. I wanted to know.

But ever since, images of a car speeding down the road, losing control and careening into my dad’s motorcycle infiltrate my thoughts and dreams.

Except in my nightmares, I’m standing there, watching the accident happen. It’s horrifying as hell to watch my dad’s body being flung into the air like a rag doll when the car careens into his bike. He lands on the road with a sickening thud, hisblood spraying all over my face, hands, and clothing. I wake up screaming, sweat pouring from my skin and soaking my clothing, tears streaming down my face.

That first night I was haunted by the nightmare; Ben and Chloe flew out of their bedrooms, eyes full of panic, unsure what the hell was happening. Guilt crashed over me for not only disturbing their sleep, but causing the fear blanketing their expressions.

My attention is drawn to my dad’s best friend, Ryan Walls, as he moves in front of my dad’s casket. His eyes are red and swollen as he solemnly gazes at the mourners until his blue eyes lock with mine. We exchange a silent conversation without saying a word. Ryan is like a second father to me.

My heart squeezes inside my chest, all the breath leaving my lungs as I stare at Ryan. He’s in most of my memories due to the time he spent with us. He was my dad’s best and longest friend, as well as his partner on the police force for many years.

He takes a deep breath, then begins speaking, his gaze still on me. “It’s hard to believe that Michael Jacobs, father, husband, detective, friend, and active community member, is gone.” He shakes his head, sorrowful eyes still locked on mine. “He was my best friend, as well as my mentor. When I first started working at the Falls Creek Police department, it was because of him. He not only encouraged me to apply, but took me under his wing, making me a better cop. His strong sense of values and morals made me a better person. He had great instincts, but more importantly, he was a defender and protector of the citizens of this small town and a seeker of truth and justice. He knew when someone was bullshitting him and when to give someone another chance, and he worked tirelessly for them to get it.” He paused, his gaze moving to my mom. “But Mike’s first priority was always his family. He tirelessly devoted himself to his wife, Maura, and his daughter, Maddie.

“Mike’s pride and joy is his daughter, Maddie. Since the day she was born, she was his world. And, of course, Maura’s as well.” He gives my mom a distracted smile, then looks back at me. “I still remember helping him plant the ‘Bright Melody’ rosebush for you, Maddie.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I had so many scratches from the thorns, but Mike was insistent that he wanted one that was blooming so he could show Maddie.”

My mind drifts to that moment when dad took me by the hand and led me out to the rosebush. The huge bush sat at the corner of the yard where I could see it whenever I played on my playground set.

My dad’s bright smile lit up my world, even when the sun wasn’t shining. But on days like today, when the sun was a glorious bright orb in the sky, my dad’s smile shone even brighter.

He pointed at the rosebush and said, “The ‘Bright Melody’ is known for its fragrance and ruby red roses. Do you know why I chose it?” He pauses as I shake my head, then continues. “What you don’t know is that I wanted to name you Melody Rose, but your mom wanted Madison Rose. I agreed with her when you were born, face bright red as you screamed bloody murder, fists flailing like you were angry at the world. Your mom smiled at me and said, ‘See, she’s mad, so Madison fits her better.’ I agreed to name you Madison after researching the meaning of your name. ‘Strength in battle is another meaning of the name Madison.’ It suited you. You’ve always been my strong-willed girl, displaying strength whenever life gets tough. I have no doubt you could rally and lead an army to victory because of the strength you possess inside you.”

Awave of fresh tears fill my eyes as I return to the present. Ryan is talking about my dad’s contributions to the Falls Creek community, both professionally and personally. He’s captivating as he speaks about the family vacations we’ve taken together over the years. By the time he’s finished, there isn’t a dry eye among the group of people surrounding us.

He walks over to my mom, hugging her and saying a few words before he moves to me. Ben releases me as Ryan steps in front of me. I practically collapse in his arms, and he holds me, rocking me just like my dad used to whenever I was upset or hurt.

After several long minutes, he steps back, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “Your dad was a helluva man, Maddie. I know you miss him, and you’re in hell right now. But if there is anything I can do, please let me know, okay?” He waits until I give him a watery smile and nod, then he says, “He’s so fucking proud of you, Maddie. Always remember that, okay?”

I nod again, barely able to see him through the tears, as he repeats, “I’m here for you. Aimee is here. If you need anything, let us know.”

Nodding again, I give him the first genuine smile I’ve given anyone in days. “Thanks, Uncle Ryan.”

He squeezes my hand, his brown eyes soft, before he releases me, then steps back beside his wife, Aimee, and their two kids.

The minister begins speaking again, but I tune him out as memories of my dad assault me. Like a montage, I see him and I throughout the years. My first bike with training wheels, my dad running beside me to ensure I didn’t fall. Then without them, his whoop of excitement when he released the seat, and I steadily peddled away, causing me to smile so wide my cheeks hurt. Every time I was sick or hurt, my dad was always there. Despite his job, every award I won at every dance competition, my dad was there. When my first crush and boyfriend, Cameron, brokemy heart when he dumped me, my dad held me in his strong embrace, wiping my tears.

My trip down memory lane is interrupted when Ben nudges me in the side. “It’s your turn to lay a rose on his casket,” he whispers.

It seems like time slows down as I move, my gaze locked on his casket, until I’m finally beside it. Clenching the rose so tightly in my hand, the bite of the thorn penetrates my apathy as it cuts my skin. The pain feels good, serving as a reminder that I’m alive. Stillbreathing.

My hand trembles as I force my arm away from my body. It’s strange, but it feels like I’ll let him go once I place this rose on his casket. Somehow, the red rose in my hand is my last link to him, and once I let go, things will be irrecoverably changed.

My eyes move to the collage of pictures beside his casket, locking on his honey-brown eyes that are so much like my own.

Suddenly, the images morph into my dad on his motorcycle, cruising down the road as a speeding car careens toward him. I scream, and my dad turns his head, looking at me instead of the danger ahead. I point and open my mouth, but it’s too late. The sound of the crash is deafening, making my ears ring as my dad flies off his bike, sailing through the air. I close my eyes, not wanting to see, and yet… I open them, staring at his broken body lying on the road, blood spilling everywhere. My skin feels sticky, and when I look down, red streaks trail down my hand.

I don’t know who the hell is screaming, but I hear the loud wailing before the buzzing in my ears drowns it out, and the world goes black.

2

MADISON

Iblink, awareness slowly seeping in as I see people hovering around me, worried looks on their faces. My mom and Ben are closest to me, with Chloe beside him. Ryan and Aimee stand behind my mom. The rest of the mourners are behind them, looking concerned and uneasy.

Lifting a hand, I rub my head, trying to figure out why I’m on the ground. A sticky substance is on my finger. I lower my hand, revealing a small cut on my finger, blood seeping from it. My brow wrinkles as I look at my loved ones surrounding me. “What happened?”

---