Instead, I call my mom. She agrees to come over the next day and start helping me pack everything I will need to take to L.A. Since most of my stuff was furniture and bigger items, I have decided to just donate everything.
I make another mental note to call my realtor in the morning to see if there has been any interest on the showings lately. I doubt it. The housing market is still horrible and winter is the worst time to sell a house, especially a condo, in Minnesota. It doesn’t matter much, really. I’m using the same realtor I used just a few months ago when I bought the place so I’m familiar with her and trust her judgment. I won’t be surprised if the condo sits empty for several months, but that’s okay. I have the money to pay the mortgage even if I’m not living here.
She assures me activity will increase after the first of the year like it usually does. Due to the holiday week, we can’t find a donation store that’s available to pick up my furniture before Christmas, so my mom promises to handle it the following week. No big deal.
***
I stare at my living room, covered in packed boxes and Christmas wrapping paper and take a break from wrapping my last few remaining presents. I celebrated Christmas with my parents and Mia earlier, and tomorrow Mia and I are flying to California to celebrate Christmas with Zack and Chase. Zack’s mom and sister will be there and I can’t wait to see them. And then Mia is moving to New York.
I am leaving my parents, and my entire past life behind, in Minnesota. Sure I’ll come back to visit…obviously. But a new page is being turned and I am currently alone in my condo for the last time with a mixture of emotions flowing through me.
Thrilled beyond belief and scared beyond measure.
I take another sip of my wine and turn up the Christmas music. I need to get out of my funk and start counting down the hours until my plane lands in Los Angeles and I can be in Zack’s arms again because I know as soon as I see him smile and hold me, everything will be completely right.
I smile as I begin wrapping his Christmas present. It isn’t anything big, and I racked my head for weeks trying to find the perfect gift for him. It was finally delivered this morning from an online music dealer I found. It is a single vinyl record of the Rolling Stones song “Good times, bad times.” The gift itself isn’t anything particularly special or expensive, even if it was hard to find. But the song reminds Zack of his grandpa, and I love the lyrics about love and trust. He has an LP player in his playroom out in L.A. and I know he’ll love the original vinyl over a DVD or download.
I smile even larger when my phone starts ringing, the lyrics of Zack’s current number one hit Some Day, overpowers Joy to the World currently playing on my stereo.
I turn down the music and answer the phone. “Hey handsome, I was just thinking about you.” The sigh that comes through the other line is not him. I freeze instantly.
“Hello?” I ask slowly, hoping to disguise the instant shaking in my voice.
“Nicole?” It’s a woman. A female voice I don’t recognize. I say nothing.
But she does.
“It’s Rachel McAllister.”
My stomach drops to my knees. Thank god I’m already sitting down or I would probably fall over in shock. Why is she calling? Whatever the reason, there can be no good news for me. “Yes?” My voice instantly hard.
“It’s Zack.”
Oh god. What is going on? My living room starts to spin. “Why do you have his phone?”
“I’m sorry to call.”
“Sure you are. Why do you have Zack’s phone?” I repeat.
“There’s been a car accident.”
And my world begins to end. An accident. Zack was in an accident. Not another accident. My breath instantly starts coming out in short little spurts. All I can think about and see are flashbacks to the pictures shown to me of Mark’s car the night of his accident. Flipped over and completely crushed by the final impact. Not a single window left intact. Andrew’s car seat flown from the vehicle.
I have to get a grip on myself. This is Zack. Not Mark. This isn’t happening to me again. It can’t be.