Page 38 of Promise of a New Beginning
Jack’s breath caught in his throat. She was more than a foot shorter than Jack, and she’d always worn her hair in a short pixie cut, but now her blond hair fell past her shoulders, so similar to Linda’s that when his hand brushed against it, he had to swallow the sadness that rose. She drew away from him and shook her head. Her warm blue eyes held no anger or blame, and the smile on her lips offered Jack even more relief. He felt the tension in his shoulders ease.
“Hi, Elise,” he managed, closing the door behind her. “Come in. Let’s sit down.” Elise and Linda had been as close as sisters could get. She was twenty-eight when Linda died, and Jack remembered the devastation that had lingered in her eyes afterward—and how that devastation drove his guilt deeper and deeper into his psyche. Now that despair was evident only in the shadow that flickered in her eyes and left as quickly as it had appeared. Jack thought he might be the only person who would recognize it for what it was.
They sat on the sofa, facing each other, Elise with one leg tucked under the other and her arm across the back of the couch and Jack with his elbows leaning on his thighs. His heart felt heavier than it had a few moments before, and although he didn’t see blame in Elise’s gaze, his internal guilt tethered his eyes to the fireplace.
“Jack, I’m so glad to see you.” Elise touched his arm.
He turned his head and looked at her, praying he’d have the strength to say and do the things he needed to. He wanted to move forward, but suddenly the road between wanting and doing seemed paved with glass.
He forced a smile. “I never thought I’d see any of the Grays again, and here you are, sitting on my couch.”
Elise’s smile wasn’t forced, and when it lit up her eyes, Jack sat up, taking note of the similarities between her and Linda. The high cheekbones, the way a dimple formed beside her cheek when the smile reached a certain point, and a simple cock of her head, which brought Linda’s voice back to him,Oh, Jackie, don’t be silly.How many times had she said that with the same look in her eyes?
Elise dropped her gaze. “I know, Jack. I look just like her. I always have, but now that my hair is longer…”
“It’s remarkable. Your voice, too.” He turned his body toward her so he could study her more closely. A memory snaked its way into his mind, and he had to share it. “She sat right there once with that same look on her face. We’d just decided to try to have a baby.” His throat swelled, and he paused as a chill ran through him. “She said…” He narrowed his eyes to keep the tears that burned from falling. “She said,Let’s do it, Jackie.That was all.Let’s do it, Jackie.”
“She loved you, Jack, and she would have loved your children.” Elise touched his arm. “Do you remember when you guys first got married? Remember how she made me promise to never let her turn into one of those sisters who forgets she has a life outside of her marriage?”
Jack nodded.
“She never did, Jack. She always made time for meandyou.”
A tear tumbled down his cheek. He tried to blink it away, but more tears spilled, and he dropped his eyes to the couch.
“I miss her, too, Jack.” Elise wiped her own eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Elise. Not just for letting her go out that night, but for being such a jerk afterward. I loved her so much, and I missed her—miss her—so much.”
“I know you do, Jack. We all do.” Elise’s voice was just above a whisper. When she spoke again, strength had returned to her voice. “But, Jack, everyone misses you. Your family, my family. You have a lot of life to live ahead of you, and we worry about you.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “I thought I could escape the pain. I thought if I didn’t see anyone, I could forget the blame and the accusations in everyone’s eyes.”
“Jack, no one blamed you but yourself.”
Jack shook his head. “Your father blamed me, and I’m sure everyone did.”
“No, Jack. What Dad said, he said out of anger and grief. Don’t you remember? The last time you saw him, you two argued. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was on Linda’s birthday after she’d died, and he told you to stop blaming yourself and to pull yourself together.”
Jack remembered it well. The shock of rage that tore through him. The gall of anyone telling him to forget his pain—to forget Linda—and move on with his life. They didn’t understand that he was unable to do that. He could not physically muster the energy to even think about forgetting or letting go of the guilt.
“Jack, look at me.”
He met her empathetic gaze.
“It was you who blamed yourself, Jack. You argued until my father was red faced. Remember? Think about it, please. It’s important that you see how things really happened. You got right in his face and said that you would never speak to him again if he continued to tell you to let her go, and the whole time, he wasn’t telling you to. He was giving you permission to move on with your life.”
Jack grabbed the sides of his head and leaned his elbows on his knees again. “No. I saw it in his eyes, Elise. I saw it. His hatred was so blatant.”
“No, Jack.”
The strength of her statement drew his eyes back to her. He felt his chest rise and fall as his breathing became fast and loud.
“That was you, Jack. You hated yourself. You blamed yourself. You scared us, Jack. Dad was afraid you’d do something horrible, think about suicide or something, and the more he tried to release you from your own self-imposed guilt, the angrier you became. He finally gave up and said,Fine, Jack. Go wallow in your guilt. While away your life in some self-imposed prison. Is that what you want to hear?” Elise stood and paced. “Think about it, Jack. You’ve always been so stubborn. You looked him in the eye and said,Yes. It’s the truth.” She crouched before him and held his knees in her small hands, waiting until Jack was looking at her before continuing. “Jack, that’s when he said it. That’s when he told you that you were the reason she died. He said it to appease you, Jack, because every attempt to dissuade seemed to make you angrier and more belligerent. And do you remember what you did?”
Jack’s chest hurt so badly that he couldn’t tell if his tears were from the pain or the grief that constricted it.
“You thanked him, Jack, and then you walked out the door. And that was almost two years ago. My father has lived with the guilt of that conversation every second of his life. And you?” She leaned forward and ran her hand up his arm, finding the scar there. “You have lived with it, too.”
