I thought about her visit to the coffee shop just a few weeks ago. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that that was the last time I would ever see her.

“I should call Ruby. Go see her. Something,” I said. This would kill Ruby. I had always thought her relationship with Lisa had been beautiful. Theirs was a love that would last forever. It was so wrong that their forever hadn’t lasted nearly long enough.

I got to my feet. I knew I had to do something. I just wasn’t sure what. My grief for Lisa was a heavy thing. My mom and dad came quickly to my side both putting their arms around my shoulders, holding me up from either side. “We can go see her together, Maggie. See if there’s anything we can do to help. Ruby is such a lovely woman,” my mom suggested and I leaned into her, grateful for the comfort.

And then I thought of the other person who would be affected by this sudden tragedy. A person who couldn’t afford to be blindsided by the pain this would cause. Someone who I knew was barely holding it together as it was. The knife in my gut this time wasn’t for me, or for Ruby. It belonged entirely to Clay, who I knew would be hurting beyond anything I could imagine.

“Thanks, Mom, Dad,” I whispered, unable to find my voice. My dad kissed the top of my head and went over to the electric kettle, pulling out my favorite chamomile tea in order to make me a cup. My mom went to the cupboard and started pulling ingredients out and putting them on the counter. I recognized the bits needed for her seven cheese casserole. What was it about death that ignited the need to cook? It seemed so trivial in the face of such a terrible thing. But I supposed it was more about feeling useful. Even if that filled our needs more than anyone else’s.

“I’m gonna get some air,” was all I could say and I found myself pushing through the backdoor and out into the yard. I swept the bangs off my forehead and dropped my head back, staring at the sky. All I could think of was Clay. Clay. Clay. Clay.

He never seemed to catch a break. My heart broke all over again for the boy I loved deeply and with every fiber of my being. I couldn’t stop myself from obsessing about how he would handle the news. Would it undo all of the progress he’s made? Would he be able to come back from the grief? He loved Lisa like a mother. She and Ruby had been all that he had in the way of supportive and caring family. This had the potential to destroy him all over again.

And then my mind ground to a halt at a sudden realization. He would be coming back to Davidson. Shit, of course he would be. I shook my head, gripping my hair at the scalp. I couldn’t think about that. Wouldn’t think about what that would mean for me when I saw him again. Because it was supremely selfish to worry about my own feelings when Ruby and Clay had lost so much.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Ruby’s number. I didn’t know what I would say. Words seemed useless at the moment. And I hated how relieved I was when I got her voicemail. My eyes burned with tears at the sound of the silly message she and Lisa used as their greeting. I sniffled and wiped my eyes just as the beep ended.

“Ruby. It’s Maggie. I, uh, I just wanted to call and tell you how…sorry I am. God, I’m so very sorry,” I choked on the words and had to stop. I tried to calm down so I could get out the rest of what I wanted to say.

“I just wanted you to know if you need anything. Please call. I loved Lisa. She was such a wonderful person. I’m just so sorry,” I ended on a whisper. And I couldn’t say anymore so I just hung up.

My head dropped, my chin hitting my chest. My phone fell from my hand to the ground and I was lost in my feelings of sadness for a life cut short and for the impact it would have on the person I loved the most.

Chapter Eight

-Clay-

The day began like any other. My alarm went off at seven. I got out of bed and took a shower. After eating a barely edible breakfast, I headed for my first group session. Today’s topic was on building your support systems. I was engaged and focused. Because I was Clayton Reed, Super Patient!

Then I attended school for two hours. I completed my biology paper and started working on an essay on the short story A Rose for Emily for my American Lit assignment. I had never particularly enjoyed school. I hated the crowded hallways and people way too up in your business. But now having a seven hour school day crammed into two, I missed the luxury of going from class to class. I hated the break neck pace of reading and writing, trying to shove an entire education into such a short amount of time.

But I was kicking ass. I had never cared about doing well. Do my homework? Fuck that. Pay attention to my teachers’ lectures? No way. But now, with my head more in the game than it used to be, I was finally taking the whole educate yourself, seriously.

I was determined to be the poster child for a post breakdown lifestyle. Look at me, I can go to school, talk about my feelings and be a productive member of society. Suck that, Mom and Dad!

I finished my assignments and had lunch. Maria and Tyler were still in group and Susan was in her therapy session. So it was only Greg and me. Which was cool. Greg was a pretty funny guy, giving new meaning to the word crazy. Because man did Greg fit the stereotype of a mental patient. Or maybe someone was channeling “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”

You’d think he had Tourette’s with the stuff that came out of his mouth. But nope, he just had zero filter. Telling someone to f**k off on the heels of explaining why the global economy was failing. You could be scared of him or just roll with it. I had to admit I was a bit of both.

So, like I said, the day was like every other since I had come to Grayson. I should have known that the moment things started to resemble normal the floor was ready to drop out from underneath me.