Now at the body shop, I throw the gear of the only real woman I need in my life into park. I see the bike Bambi asked me to fix and realize I haven’t touched it yet. Thanks to the storm, we’ve had an influx of repair jobs this week, and I haven’t had much extra time to do anything.
“You’re here early,” Bambi says, walking out from the back door as she tosses her cigarette to the side.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Last night didn’t go over so well for you?” she laughs. She’s laughing because she’s just another person in my life who wanted to tell me how dumb it was to force Sasha into getting laid by another dude. I was confident with my plan at first, but it’s not like any of it matters now.
“It went well. It just didn’t end well.”
“Did she get scared off by your one-eyed monster?”
“Must have been it,” I say, walking past her and up to the bike.
But as I kneel down to check out a part, Bambi’s hand rests on my shoulder. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” It’s probably the sincerest I’ve ever heard this woman sound so I’m guessing whatever it is she wants to say must be serious.
“‘Sup?” I ask, holding my focus on the bike.
She reaches a piece of paper out to me. “Read this first.”
I wipe my hands off on my pants and look up at her. I hadn’t looked at her face since she greeted me out here but now that I am, I see a web of red veins lining the whites of her eyes. “What is it?”
She reaches it out further, placing it against my chest so I take it from her and stand up. I unfold the paper and read:
Dear Aunt Greta,
I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you in years. My parents haven’t allowed me to contact you. But I’ve managed to find a stamp, and I Googled you until I found your address. I hope it’s okay that I’m sending you this letter. I hope you don’t hate me as much as my parents hate you. Every day, I feel alone. Alone with my thoughts and my memories. I see Danny in my head, and I see your face and the way it looked after the explosion. When I bring it up to my parents, they tell me to not mention it again. It’s like they’ve tried to forget about Danny completely. But I can’t. He was my brother, and he was trying to save me so he told me to leave the grocery store. I fought him on it because I was only eight and he was telling me to go get something from your car. I didn’t know why he would tell me to do something like that, and while I still don’t know for sure, I’d like to believe Danny knew something bad was about to happen.
Aunt Greta, I don’t blame you at all. I wanted to thank you. You were very protective of Danny and me, and I can’t imagine what that day has done to you or your life. I miss you a lot, and I wish you were still around so I could call you when I needed to talk. I wish I had your phone number.
The thoughts in my head have been hurting me for too long, and I’m not sure I can keep living like this. I’m sorry to hit you with all of this in a letter, but I couldn’t make my next decision until I had a chance to send you this. I just hope it finds you.
My point to all of this is to tell you that I don’t blame you, and I thank you for trying to save Danny. While I wasn’t in there when it happened, I know you, and I know you would have given your own life for Danny.
I wish it had been me in the supermarket that day instead of Danny. It’s not fair that he doesn’t have to live with the memories. It’s not fair that my parents, your own sister, pushed you away! I don’t understand. I would give my life to see Danny again and if he were alive, I couldn’t imagine going years without talking to him or seeing him.
I hope your life is okay despite our past. I need you to know I love you. I need you to know you were the best aunt