Page 87 of Mic Drop

She clicks off and I concentrate on the road. Leave the highway and navigate the smaller roads of the Hamptons. When my thoughts become too loud, I turn on the radio. UC’s “Refocused Destiny” plays.

My hands clutch the steering wheel tighter. Bennett’s pitch-perfect voice reaches across the airwaves and wraps around my throat, choking me. I shut off the stupid radio as tears stream down my cheeks, which I brush away. I had him in my life for one reason only: to please Ma. Now she’s gone, there’s no reason to maintain our ruse. Right?

Our time at Graceland flits through my mind. I remember doing physical therapy with him, and how hard he worked. Theway he was so professional at sound checks. How he made my blood sing.

My breathing becomes more erratic. I spot a strip mall and turn into the parking lot. In a corner spot, I throw my car into park, raise my palms to my face, and sob.

Weep for the memories we share.

Scream for the vows we exchanged.

Despair over the vast emptiness extending before me.

A knock sounds on my window. I wave my hand in front of my face, urging the bystander to walk away. Another knock. Can’t they take a hint?

I suck in air and press the button for my window to roll down. My hand stays in front of my face.

A concerned female voice asks, “Are you okay?”

Never better. “Fine.”

“It’s . . . I saw you crying.”

My hand lands on the steering wheel and I face my inquisitor—a woman in her early twenties. In probably a more forceful voice than needed, I reply, “I’m all right.”

She puts a hand over her chest. “I wanted to be sure.” Her eyes widen. “I know you. You’re that Black Widow, aren’t you?”

I lean forward and press the button for the window to go up.

She places her hand on the half-raised window. In a rush, she blurts, “No. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I don’t believe what the media has written about you.”

I release the button. She’s the first person outside my immediate circle to say this. So young to boot. “You don’t?”

She shakes her head. “It seems made up to sell tabloids.”

I press the button and the window lowers again. I swallow. “It was.”

The young woman looks around the parking lot. “I think you’re safe from prying eyes here, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out in public like this. You can’t let them see you sweat.”

Her last comment brings a reluctant grin to my face. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

She nods. “You know, you’re the reason I’m going to be a physical therapist. My father needed help after his knee replacement and went to your clinic. He raved about the work you did, and I decided I wanted to be like you. Helping people get better.”

Iwas this girl’s role model? While I’ve been wallowing about Ma’s death, others have held me up as someone to follow? “This means so much to me. Being a physical therapist is the best job in the world, if you ask me. There’s nothing better than working with someone through an operation or injury, and seeing them improve.”

She stands a bit straighter. “I even got into youralma mater. I start physical therapy classes next year.”

I swipe a stray tear away. “I’m sure you’re going to do great. Give me your contact information and when the time comes, I’ll set you up with an internship with At Your Service.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to hit you up for a job.”

“Which is why I’m offering it.” As I get my phone out to put her contact info in my phone, I spy the gift card to the arcade Bennett gave me for my birthday—a present I’ll never use. “Make sure you keep in touch with me. I want to hear all about your studies.” I flip the card in my hand once. “Here’s a gift to remind you to always do your best.”

Eyes shining, she hugs the gift card to her chest and promises to keep me posted. “Before I leave, I want to be sure you’re really okay.” She leans forward.

I go for the truth. “I’m not. But I will be.” She waves me on, and I get back on the road, hating myself for lying to her.Nothing will ever be okay again.

Ten minutes later, I pull up in front of Ma’s house. Car in park, I sit in the driveway as more misery washes over me.Will I ever find lasting happiness?

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