ONE

He’s gone… thought thirty-year-old Kate Morrison. Jackson… Oh, Jackson… The hands of grief were clutching her heart and squeezing the life out of it. Fat wet drops were running down her cheeks. Tears? Kate hadn’t cried in a long time, even in her four years of marriage. Sure, she and Jackson had the rare fights, but most of them were minor, not enough for her to cry. Why did you leave me Jack? I thought you said you’d be with me forever. She wiped her tears away, looking like a lost and helpless girl.

Jack had died of cancer, that slow and painful disease. They didn’t even know he had it till it was too late. Growing, spreading in him, as they went through happy memories.

Kate had first met Jack in her workplace. She worked as a singer in one of the fanciest restaurant in town, and Jack was a reporter who was doing a feature about the new place. Jack had been a loyal customer ever since. It took him a long time before he could sum up enough courage to ask her out on a date during one of her breaks.

“Hi.” He had said. “You probably don’t know me…”

“Oh, I know you.” Kate interrupted. “But only by face.”

“You do?” Jack asked nervously.

“I should,” she smirked. “I see you here almost every night.”

“Oh.” He chuckled nervously. “About that…”

“Did you come here for a reason?”

He gave her a blank questioning stare.

“Questions? Comments? Suggestions, maybe?”

Again with that stare.

“About my singing?”

He finally got it. “Oh. Oh, no. you sing beautifully.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll get to my point.”

“Please do.”

“This may sound weird from a total stranger and all… Oh, by the way, my name’s Jackson. Morrison. Jackson Morrison. Just call me Jack.” He awkwardly held out his hand.

She took it. “Katherine. James. Katherine James. Just call me Kate. Your point?”

“Would you like to go to dinner? With… me?”

Katherine was taken aback. “I’m… working.”

“Oh, right. How’s about a late dinner?”

She stared at him in shock. Then a smile formed on her lips. Why not? She thought. “Sure.”

                                      . . .

 

“Sure.” A voice said, snapping her out of her daydreaming. It was the answering machine. “Go ahead. Leave a message.”

It was her voice. Then Jack’s voice pitched in. “We’re probably out doing something fun while you guys are stuck at home calling us.”

Their laughter got cut short by a loud beep. A tear rolled down Kate’s cheek.

“Kate.” It was her mother. “Kate, dear. I know you’re there. If you’re hearing this, I just want you to know that, if you want, you can always come over. I hate to think that you’re all alone there.” Beep.

Kate walked to the phone, the small red light blinking, telling her she had unheard messages. She pressed the grey button.

Beep. “You have four new messages.” It said mechanically. “First message.”

“Hey Kate.” A voice said uncomfortably. “It’s me, Julie. Uhm, I know you want to be alone right now. I just wanted to see if you’re okay. All of us here at work are missing you. And… we’re really sorry about Jack. The boss said you could take a few days off. Uhm, that’s all really. Bye, call me if you need me.”

Second message. “Hey, sis, it’s Mike. Mom told me to call you. She told me to tell you that you really need to get out of the house. So… you really need to get out of the house. I’m really sorry about Jack. You know how we were. He was one of my best buds. But I know that you’re tired of hearing all these sorries. Don’t worry, sis. You’re not the only one who feels all the sorrow. So I guess I’ll be seeing you around, sis.”

Third message. “Kate?” Kate’s heart stopped. Jack… “Kate, I know when you’re hearing this I’ll already be gone. I’ll keep my message short and simple.” Tears. Drip, drip. “I love you. I love you, Kate. Always. You know that. I want you to be happy. So I want you to know that it’s okay if you find another guy. I’ll give you a sign if he gets out of hand.” He chuckled, and then was serious again. “I’ll always be here for you, Kate. I know you know that. Be happy, Kate. That’s all I really want for you.”

Kate’s mind processed it as the fourth message played. The message from her mother that she had just heard minutes ago. Beep.

Kate’s heartbeat grew faster as she stood beside the phone, her legs buckled. Then with trembling fingers, she reached for the receiver and dialed the number she had memorized by heart.

 

 

                                      . . .

 

In the second story of the condominium in New York, lived a man whose life was going to take a strange turn.

“Oh, crap.” Thirty-two-year-old Jason Chaffe said jumping in fright, splashing drops of coffee on his morning paper as his phone suddenly rang. He stood up from the table and took the cordless phone.

“Yes, hello.” He said, annoyed.

“Jace?” A small female voice said on the other end.

“Yes, this is Jason. How may I help you?”

“Jace.” The voice said tearfully. “Jace, come back. Come back, Jace. I need you.”

He stared bewilderedly at the phone. “Who is this? Is this a prank call? If it is, it’s not funny. Kev? Kevin, is that you?”

“Come back, Jace.” The voice kept saying. “Come back to Minneapolis.”

Whoosh. Memories came rushing back. Minneapolis, his long forgotten hometown.

“Come back. Please, I need you.” The caller had not yet revealed herself. “We’ll go back to L.C. Just like old times.”

L.C. Lake Calhoun… Bang! Realization. “Kate? Katie, is that you?” Sobs could be heard on the other end. “Katie? Katie James?”

“It’s Morrison now.” She said.

“Oh… congratulations.” Jason said. She sniffed. “Katie? Katie, what’s wrong?”

“He died, Jace.”

“Who? Who died?”

Sniff. “Jack. My husband.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“Oh. God, Kate, I’m sorry.”

“Is it okay,” Sniff. “If you came here? It’s kinda hard to explain it all on the phone. And if you do come, we can catch up on each other, you know?”

“Okay.” He said in a quiet voice. “Sure Kate. I’ll come home.”

 

Kate put back the receiver on its cradle and ran her hand through her thick, black, wavy hair. She had sent her S.O.S., now help was coming.

Jason was her childhood best friend. They used to play and hang-out on Lake Calhoun, and even used to take long evening walks along its shore.

The house was a mess, empty Chinese take-out boxes, scattered cards scribbled with condolences and all of Jack’s things. Kate took out a basket and started gathering some of the stuff. She dropped the trash in the bin and put the cards in a box. She stuffed the box in the far, dark corner of her closet. She sighed. Now for his things. She put his work papers and his journal filled with his appointments. They made a soft thump as they hit the bottom of the basket. His notebooks, his ID. Thump, thump. She left most of his things where they were. His house slippers, waiting at the foot of his favorite armchair; his textbooks, pile neatly on the coffee table; his wristwatch, cell phone, wallet, and car keys on the shelf.

It was like she cleaned the house for him, like she expected him to burst through the door from a stressful day at work. Jack worked at the local newspaper, reviewing new restaurants. Anything, really, related to food. And, thus, it made him the cook in the house. When Kate and Jack got married, she requested her nighttime singing shift to the afternoon. And everything was going well.

Kate looked out the window and saw that it was already dusk. Everything was quiet, all except for the cars passing by and the chirping of the crickets. Kate took this time to peer into the depths of her mind.

Music was something she adored. Whenever she felt anything: joy, sorrow, anger; a song would fill her soul, and it would play in her mind for the rest of the day.

But today, her soul was empty. No music, no song, nothing. Nothing… the air was stuffy, but it was filled with the scent of Jack’s favorite perfume. She stood up and went to her CD player and put in one of Jack’s favorites. There was a piano introduction, but was interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone. Kate lowered the volume and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Kate? It’s Jason.”

“Jace.” She breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I’ll arrive in three days.”

“Good. And if you need a place to stay, the house is vacant. I have a guestroom, you can stay there. I don’t really want to be alone.”

“Oh. No thanks, Kate. I don’t think it’s… appropriate. I can stay in a motel. I’ll come by often. We’ll see how much we’ve changed.”

Kate smiled. “Bye. Oh, and Jace?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“No prob, Kate. G’night.”

 

                                     

 

. . .

 

Jason put the phone down. It made a beep as he pressed the off button. Kate… he sighed. He hadn’t heard from her in a long time, but he had never forgotten her.

He remembered the before he moved. It was fourteen years ago. He was eighteen-years-old and Kate was sixteen. They had spent the day on Calhoun North Beach. They went canoeing and he had brought a bottle of whiskey with him. Kate never really had the endurance to alcohol, and she fainted, not remembering anything. But Jason did, and was distressed to find that Kate didn’t remember. He went to his desk and took out his journal, and wedged between the last few pages was a picture of him and Kate, fourteen years ago, kissing.

 

Kate flipped the pages of her photo album. Pictures of the day before Jason left. She smiled as she saw the one of them posing for the camera, and between them was to bottle of whiskey. Jason had always wanted to be a photographer, and would always walk around with a camera hanging from his neck. Some of his photos were famous, and Kate would seldom see them on the internet and in the papers. She scanned the album and came to the last page. The bottom space was empty, still waiting to be filled. Above the empty space was a picture of her, smiling at the camera, with a lily tucked behind her ear. When was the last time I smiled like that?

 

Jason smiled as he stroked the petals of the pressed lily that was also wedged in his journal. He remembered when he took her picture with it tucked behind her ear. He remembered the way her ebony hair spilled on her shoulders and the natural rosy cheeks, as he closed his journal and put it back in the drawer.

 

Tears were running down Kate’s cheeks as she closed the album and put it back on the shelf. She wiped them as she trudged up the stairs to the bedroom. The left side was tousled from her restless sleep last night, but the right side was still made. She lay down and asked herself, can I really last another night without Jack?