Finding Goodbye Read online

  “Here we are,” Liam said, stopping in front of a shelf that had odd looking rubber balls with handles. They came in a number of different colors and were roughly the size of a basketball.

  “What is it?” I asked, picking up a red colored one.

  “It’s a Jolly Ball,” Liam said, taking it from me. “It’s a horse toy, essentially.”

  I raised an eyebrow, dubiously.

  “I was thinking it would be a nice outlet, you know, to help relieve stress.” He turned the ball over in his hands while he said this.

  “You think it will help with training?” I asked.

  “That’s the plan,” he replied. “We should get a couple, that way all the horses can get a turn playing.”

  I picked up the light blue one, catching a whiff of peppermint. “I smell mint,” I stated, lifting the ball to my nose and sniffed.

  “It’s scented,” Liam said.

  “We’re definitely getting this one.” I laughed. “The dapple horse will love this.”

  “We’ll just get the two for now to see how they like them,” he said. I followed Liam around the corner to the next aisle. He scanned the contents briefly before picking up a bucket of horse vitamins–something called U-guard pellets. “They’re for Marigold,” Liam said. “I told your grandma the old girl needed a little extra boost for her gastric issues.”

  “You said that to my grandma?” I let my eyes go wide, mockingly. “It’s lucky you’re still vertical after that one.”

  Liam just shot me a look, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a grin. We started for the front of the store, and hopped in line three. It was the only register with the light turned on.

  There was an older, heavyset woman sitting on a stool reading what looked to be a romance novel. It was one of those small, thick paperbacks that had a rather risqué image of a man and woman tangled up in one another on the front cover. I glanced over at Liam, wondering if he was paying attention, and felt my cheeks start to flame from the intimacy of the picture. Normally, images like that had no effect on me, but there was something about the near proximity of Liam’s body to mine that was making my body respond in a bizarre way.

  The woman put the book down when she saw us, placing it (cover facing up) beside the register. “Hello there.” She smiled brightly, not rattled in the least to be caught reading on the job. I surmised this was probably not a first. “Did you find everything all right?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Liam said, placing the Jolly Balls and the vitamins on the counter.

  I watched the cashier rise from her stool at snail speed, running our purchase over the scanner. I noticed she had wicked long fingernails that were painted a bright, eye-catching magenta. A mix of silver and faux jeweled rings decorated nearly each of her fingers. She spouted off our total, looking up at Liam, and grinned. I noticed she hadn’t once glanced at me. I was naturally invisible next to him.

  “You should let me get those,” I said. I felt bad that Liam was spending the money he earned on my family’s horses.

  “I got it,” he said, brushing my offer to the side. “Your grandparents gave me money for the vitamins, but the toys are on me.” Liam pulled the wallet from his back pocket, retrieving a credit card and slid it through the card reader. While the machine prompted him for his pin number, I caught a glimpse of his ID. I never realized that I didn’t know his last name was Beckett, and filed it in my memory bank for safe keeping.

  “Do you want a bag?” the cashier asked.

  “We’re good, thanks,” Liam said, picking up our purchases and maneuvered them to fit in his arms.

  “I can carry something,” I offered.

  He shook his head, heading for the door.

  “Have a nice day,” the cashier said, picking up her book before we had even made it out of the line.

  The morning sun was inching higher in the sky as we exited the building. The temperature actually felt warm in the light of the sun. Liam tossed the Jolly Balls in the back of the truck, and then climbed up in the cab, myself in tow.

  We had driven home in silence with just the sound of the radio filling the cab. It was nice to be around someone who didn’t have a need to fill the silence with mindless chatter. Liam was in the barn now, turning the gray horse out into the round pen. I was sitting on top of the wooden railing, watching as the horse darted out and trotted as far away from us as he could manage.

  “I thought we could start out by trying some basic trust exercises,” Liam said, looking up at me. I tried not to notice the way the sunlight was playing in his hair, turning it a golden brown in the warm glow.

  “Like a join-up exercise?” I asked. It had been a while since I watched Grandpa with the horses, but I remembered how it was done. I had been so fascinated by the whole process and the mutual bond developing between horse and human. The goal was the get the horse to accept you as a herd leader.

  “Exactly like a join-up exercise,” he said. “I’ve already tried it with him, but he doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me…” His voice trailed off as he looked up, meeting my eyes.

  “So you want me to try?” I asked, feeling a rush of butterflies swirling beneath my rib cage. I’d never done it on my own.

  “He seems to like you,” Liam said. “So let’s see what you’ve got.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. I started to lift myself off the railing, preparing myself for the awkward climb down. Before I had a chance to move, Liam was there, lifting me with ease as he helped me down onto the ground. After he’d released me, I could still feel the impression of his hands on my sides. It sent on a whole new wave of intoxicating fluttering through my insides.

  I walked to the center of the ring, collecting my composure and extended my arms. I started clucking to get the horses attention. “Come on boy,” I encouraged, beginning to chase after him to get him moving around the ring. I used the lead rope, swinging it in the circular direction I wanted him to go. It didn’t take much effort, I realized, to get him rattled. He snorted and tried to dodge me but I side stepped, forcing him back where I wanted, and pushed him forward around the ring.

  I could feel the pressure building in my leg as I hobbled through the ring, not quite able to bend my leg the way it should go. I had a feeling the horse could sense that I was different; I could tell he was taking it easy on me. I watched him glide around the arena gracefully, moving alongside the railing with the wind skimming through his bi colored mane. I turned with him, staying in the center, and watched for the signs I hoped he would show me to let me know he was ready for the join-up. I wanted him to trust me. They key was to be fearless, but also to respect the animal.

  “Looking good out there,” Liam said encouragingly.

  I was positive he was just being polite. Nothing about me was graceful anymore, but his kind words were appreciated. A minute or so later, the horse started to slow. I watched his inner ear flick toward me and I couldn’t fight off the smile that was creeping at the corner of my mouth.

  “Are you seeing this?” I asked. “He’s licking his lips!”

  “Lower your arms and turn away, let’s see what happens,” Liam replied.

  I dropped my arms to my side slowly, and turned in the opposite direction. A beat later I could hear the steady loping of hooves coming toward me, and then warm breath at my ear. He nosed my neck with his muzzle, and I reached up, running my fingertips over his magnificent face.

  “Good boy,” I said softly, turning to face him.

  “Well done,” Liam said. “I have to say I’m thoroughly impressed. You didn’t even need to use a lunge line.”

  “I’m just lucky he likes me I guess.” I shrugged, feeling entir
ely giddy but I didn’t want to show it. “This guy needs a name.” I brushed the length of his forehead, rubbing gently at his nose with my knuckles. “We can’t just keep calling him ‘gray horse.’”

  “How about Beelzebub,” Liam suggested, and I turned to narrow my eyes at him disapprovingly. He laughed.

  “I think I’ll call him Maverick,” I said, and kissed his nose.

  “Maverick,” Liam repeated, weighing the sound of it.

  “I think it fits him,” I added. “He’s very independent.”

  “And stubborn,” Liam reminded me. “Though, he appears to be a different animal with you. It’s remarkable.”

  I felt amazing. It was the first time in a long time, and I wanted it to last forever. I knew that the moment was temporary, like all others, and I was afraid to let myself get too comfortable or too caught up in the rush of it. A part of me wanted to allow myself to hold on and embrace the moment, but the other part wanted to pull in the proverbial reins.

  “Are you ready to try something else?” Liam asked, derailing my thought train.

  “Like what?”

  “Like getting a saddle blanket on him.” Liam hopped off the rail and grabbed a gray colored blanket from the rail beside him. “Your grandpa and I couldn’t get anywhere close to him with a saddle, so I thought it was best to start slow.”

  “Slow is good,” I agreed.

  “Go ahead and clip that lead to his halter,” he suggested, pointing to the lead rope that was now draped over my shoulders.

  “Right.” I reached up, and clipped it easily.

  “Good. Now see if he’ll let you trade me.”

  I handed off the lead rope to Liam, and took the saddle pad, folding it beneath my arm. Maverick seemed to follow my every move. I stopped midway, a thought occurring to me. “Peppermints,” I said.

  “What?” Liam startled.

  I had put some in my pockets before we started and had forgotten about them until now. I walked slowly, letting Maverick smell the saddle pad and I could tell it was making him uneasy as he started to back away. I pulled a peppermint from my pocket and unwrapped it. I let him smell the saddle pad again, and offered up a peppermint as a reward.

  “What are you doing there?” Liam asked me.

  “Hoping to convince him that the things he fears aren’t bad by associating them with rewards,” I said. “The theory you were testing the other night gave me the idea.” I moved around to his side, and he turned his head to watch me, ears pricked forward with curiosity. I decided I’d start with my hands, pressing my fingertips lightly into his spine. I ran my hands down the length of his back, over and over as if I were petting him. He didn’t move, so I lifted the pad, gently placing it over his back. Success.

  Maverick reached back and grabbed the pad with his teeth and let it drop to the ground beside us.

  We laughed. “I guess that’s what he thinks of that,” I said.

  “You made great progress with him, that’s all that matters.” Liam was still chuckling when he bent to retrieve the saddle pad.

  “You don’t want me to try again?”

  “Tomorrow,” he replied, “I don’t want to overwhelm his senses.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you have any plans?”

  “Tomorrow? No,” I said, “my schedule is pretty clear.” Indefinitely, I thought.

  “All right. Well, what do you say we turn the rest of these guys out, let them play in the field for a little while?” he asked.

  “It’s a great day for it,” I agreed.

  I helped Liam with the task, and watched as all six horses played with excitement in the field. The wind was cool on my skin, but I easily ignored it, watching the horses run and play in front of me.

  Liam disappeared for a minute, and then returned with the Jolly Balls from our morning excursion. He tossed the red one out in the field, and handed me the blue one. “You should be the one to give this to Maverick,” he said.

  I smiled, turning it over in my hands. “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow,” he agreed.

  Chapter Nine

  I woke abruptly, bolting upright in bed. I was clutching a fistful of blankets in my hands and a fine layer of sheen had broken out over my skin. My hands were shaking when I leaned over, reaching for the nightstand drawer and the bottle of pills that were tucked inside.

  “Darcy?” Grandma was in the doorway, the glow from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated her figure. She rushed in with her robe trailing after her. “Are you all right? I heard you screaming,” she said frantically. The worry lines were prominent on her face, creasing her brow as she reached out to put her hand on my shoulder.

  I was still shaking. I tried to steady my breathing, recalling the steps that I had been over a hundred times in my counseling sessions. “Bad dream,” I answered breathlessly. I reached up, running a hand through my tangled hair.

  “Darcy?” Grandma’s hands were trying to pry my fingertips away from the pill bottle I was still clutching to. I loosened my grip once I realized what I was doing. She lifted the bottle, twisting it until the label was visible. “What are these?” she asked, her eyes level with mine.

  “They’re for anxiety,” I admitted.

  Her eyes were a hundred different shades of blue and gray, mixing and swirling, conflicting with the emotions she was struggling to bring to the surface.

  “I don’t take them often,” I said, feeling the need to defend myself.

  “Maybe you wouldn’t need them at all if you talked about your problems instead of burring them like a reclusive.” Her words were pointed–direct. They bit with the sting of truth and I felt my lips part, but no words came to the surface.

  “It’s not normal to shield your emotions, Darcy,” she continued. “You’ll never be able to move forward if you can’t talk about what’s bothering you.”

  “It was just a dream, Grandma.”

  “Some dream,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt.

  “What do you want from me?” My voice came out a little sharper than I had intended, but I could feel the anger now, boiling my blood beneath the surface of my skin. “It was a nightmare, okay.” I lifted my hands, dramatically accentuating my words.

  “About your brother,” she stated. It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes,” I replied, “about the accident.”

  “Darcy,” she breathed, pleadingly, “have you told anyone about your nightmares?”

  “Mom and Luke know. My doctors know,” I said. “That’s why I have these.” I lifted the pill bottle, tossing them to the side of the bedspread.

  Grandma squeezed my hands with hers, looking at me with a penetrating gaze. I couldn’t look away. I had an overwhelming urge to confess my feelings to her, like her eyes alone were willing my emotions to surface.

  “I have been carrying around so much guilt.” My eyes started to fill with tears, betraying me. “It’s my fault Gabriel’s gone.” The words left me in a whisper, clinging to the air like an echo in the small room.

  “Look at me.” Grandma reached out, cupping my chin gently. “Gabriel dying was not your fault. Things happen inexplicably, for reasons that we will never understand, and sometimes life isn’t fair,” she continued, “but you can’t go through the rest of your days punishing yourself for an unfortunate series of events that were out of your control.”

  “Were they, though? Gabriel came to pick me up. Do you know what my blood alcohol level was when I got to the hospital?” Tears were streaming down my face now, the floodgates had been opened. “I was so out of it! The doctors told me that my condition, the alc
ohol level, was what saved my life... What kind of twisted fate is that?” I was sobbing now, the ugly, guttural sounds ripping from my throat.

  Grandma said nothing. Instead, she moved beside me on the bed, pulling me into her arms as she leaned against the headboard. She cradled me there and let me cry. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, or how long it took me to calm down, but outside, dawn was breaking over the horizon.

  “You didn’t cause the accident,” Grandma said after a long while. She was running her hands over my hair to comfort me. “I want you to stop punishing yourself, do you understand me?”

  I nodded.

  “The man responsible for the accident is rotting away in a prison cell, lest you forget,” she reminded me, and kissed the top of my head.

  “I know.” I breathed out slowly, defeated and exhausted from crying.

  “Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll go downstairs and put on coffee and breakfast. We’re going to need it.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said. “It’s too early.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with starting the day a little early.” She moved so that she was sitting up on the bed, and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.

  I watched her go, and then moved with some effort to pull myself out of bed. The blue bottle of anxiety medication was laying there beside my pillow, but I didn’t need it now. The cry had just about taken every ounce of my energy. I felt a strange sense of relief, like the weight I had been carrying around with me was just a little bit lighter now–easier to manage.

  ***

  I had never told anyone that I thought the accident had been my fault. Not even Luke. I guess I thought that if I admitted it out loud, that maybe airing it could make it true. I didn’t want to bear the weight of responsibility, though, as it turns out, I already was. I had been so selfish in my relationships; taking for granted how much everyone had sacrificed to protect me. I had been too wrapped up in my own grief, and too blind to see that I had dug myself into a hole that was too deep to climb out from.