will always love you.
At the time Kaylee had said, “That’s so sweet.”
Meredith had agreed that it was very sweet. “But he doesn’t know what he might have done wrong. He doesn’t know why we’re breaking up. That’s a huge red flag. All that talking and arguing and he still doesn’t know what he might have done differently.” Then she had smiled and said, “Maybe he should have asked. And then listened to the answer.”
Kaylee wanted to be like Meredith. Strong and fearless, independent and confident.
She spent a couple of hours with her memories, gloomy and sad and lonely, and then she cried. She threw herself into the crying and wondered if there would ever be a day she wouldn’t long so much for her mother. At about three her phone rang, but she didn’t answer. She looked at it and saw it had been Landry. She might call him back later, after she’d pulled herself together. Then she fell asleep for a while. At five she woke up with a puffy face that cold water didn’t improve one bit.
The sun was setting much earlier and soon they would be turning the clocks back. Right now it was growing dark by six and in a couple of weeks that would be five o’clock sunset and it would stay dark much later in the mornings.
There was a knock at the door. She didn’t move. Landry knocked and yelled, “Kaylee! Are you all right?”
With a heavy sigh, she went to the door. “I’m fine. Just having one of those days.”
He looked alarmed and pushed inside. “Kaylee, what is it?”
Her eyes welled with tears because she hadn’t quite shaken it off. “I’m just having a sad day. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“But wait, what’s wrong? You’ve been fine! Did something happen? Everything all right with your publisher? Tell me.”
She shook her head. “It was one of those memory days. I couldn’t stop it so I let it take me. It’ll pass now, I think. But I’m not likely to be good company.”
“What was significant about today?” he wanted to know.
“It’s not that important...”
“Yes, it is.” He reached for her and pulled her close. “I can’t bear to see you hurting. It’s too familiar. I remember those feelings.”
That was all it took for her to lean against him and sob. He murmured that it was okay, he rocked her in his arms and she cried for what seemed like a long, long time but it was probably only five minutes. She finally pulled away and looked up at him. “It was this day a year ago that the decision was made. The doctor said they had done all they could with the chemo. She was weak and thin and bald and at the end of her endurance. She was done. That’s when we moved to Hospice care. From that day on, the focus was on quality of life rather than curing her cancer.”
She cried a little more.
“I was just going through some of the things I saved, things that were special to us. You know—artifacts. Her shawl, her scarf, some pictures and books.” She glanced over her shoulder at the open suitcase on the sofa.
He had the most gentle smile. “Tell me about her.”
“Aww, I don’t know...”
“No, really. Tell me all about her. I have a feeling you take after her.”
“If only...”
“Let me make us some coffee. Tell me everything.”
* * *
They sat on the couch together, holding their coffee mugs, when Kaylee began. “She was the most awesome woman. She was so strong and fearless. When I was a little girl she worked for a decorator in the LA area and after years of that, she began to design beautiful patio furniture. When I was a senior in high school she opened a company that manufactured high-end patio furniture. Sunshine was the name she gave her company. I didn’t pay that much attention at the time but I knew she took out loans, did all kinds of special promotions, had to do some part-time design to make ends meet, but eventually, Sunshine took off. She joined with a partner and they doubled in size. She designed the most beautiful, luxurious outdoor furniture, very heavy so the high wind we’re famous for wouldn’t blow it away, and she became successful. She sold a lot to resorts and hotels. She was in her early fifties and it all came together. She was featured in so many local design magazines. She worked long hours and we