Page 37 of Eight Years Gone

He opened the door, looking at the large box labeled Jagger in Grace’s familiar handwriting. “I don’t understand.”

“Grace grabbed some of your stuff. It’s yours to take with you.”

He picked it up, eager to bring it back to the apartment and look at what was in there.

“I’ll see you at the store on Monday morning?”

He nodded.

“Good because we have a busy week—a big wedding next weekend. Jen’s twin boys just came down with chickenpox, so we’re down a set of hands. Grace and I will need all the help we can get with this one.”

“Count me in.” He sent her a small smile. “Thanks, Aunt Mags.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He headed for his car, putting the box on the front seat. Tonight he would be taking another trip down memory lane.

* * *

Jagger flipped on the apartment’s overhead light as he used his foot to shut the door behind him. He didn’t bother taking off his jacket or ballcap as he sat on the couch that converted into his bed.

Setting the box on the small coffee table, he pulled the tape off the top, lifting out the large collage of pictures in a frame that Grace had made.

He didn’t know whether to smile or sink further into despair as he stared at the snapshots of a long-ago life he no longer recognized as his own.

He and Logan in their football uniforms, cheesing it up for Grace’s camera. Summer days spent out on the boat in Preston Valley’s small lake. Movie nights in the mansion’s massive living room with all of their friends. Grace and him snuggled up and smiling with the Eiffel Tower as their backdrop during their two-week European adventure for their junior class trip. Posed shots of junior and senior proms. Then there was the picture of him, Logan, and Grace standing in front of the Syracuse University sign on their freshman move-in day.

Setting down the frame, he reached in again, pulling out ticket stubs from the games where he and his football team had been state champions three years in a row.

Three game balls came out next—all were signed with his and Logan’s names.

Then he chuckled when he grabbed the ugly-ass stuffed opossum Grace had picked out for him at the fair during their sophomore year in New York.

“It’s a little archaic that the guy always has to win a prize for the girl, so I won this for you while you waited in line for the bathroom.”

He took the rodent-type thing Grace offered him, holding it up by its tail. “What the hell is it?”

“I think it’s an opossum.”

“You think?”

“I guess it could be a rat.”

“Gee, thanks for the present.”

Grace shrugged. “Ugly stuffed animals need good homes too.”

He chuckled again as he shook his head, reaching back into the box. His smile faded as he stared at the last picture in a frame—a close-up of him and Grace that Christy had taken during their final trip to Preston Valley—the day they had spent at the waterfalls.

Grace squished her cheek against his, hugging him tightly as he leaned back against her while she sat on one of the big rocks. Their hair was wet, and they had droplets on their faces while they grinned for the camera—young and carefree.

His hand moved to the scar on his chest as he stared at Grace’s palm barely covering her name tattooed over his heart. Gracie.

It wasn’t long after this that everything had gone so wrong. Two weeks later, Logan had called Jagger to come pick him up. Then all of their lives changed forever.

He moved to stand but spotted his old cell phone in the corner of the box—the last item he hadn’t realized was there. Snatching out the ancient iPhone 5s, he pressed the power button, surprised that the damn thing turned on.

He immediately tapped the camera icon, intending to scroll through the hundreds of photos, but he stopped on the first, staring at his last picture with Grace.

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