Pillow Talk

My glass of iced tea was sweating. I watched the droplets roll down to join the others in a ring around the bottom of the glass. I heard the man shuffle up my driveway, and peered over the top of my glasses to study him. He was alone. I couldn't recall seeing him around the neighborhood before.

"Hello there!" he called out, still a few feet away.

"Good morning." I replied. "Something I can do for you?" he looked lost. I was afraid maybe he'd broken down on the side of the road somewhere. The man wiped the beading sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel.

"Yes, I think so." he climbed the steps to meet me. "It's Jesse, right?"

"Right." I confirmed. "That's me." he lingered for a bit, then sat in the chair next to me. He seemed about my age. His tanned face was wrinkled.

"You know Jesse, I'm wondering if this was such a good idea after all." he rubbed the back of his neck with a rough, and freckled hand. "I agreed to it, so I suppose I'd best follow through." He leaned forward in his chair, reached for something in the back pocket of his jeans, and held it out for me to take.

A little black notebook.

"She wanted you to have this." I turned the book in my hands.

"She?" I questioned.

"Ryan." he stood. "I promised I'd give it to you."

Suddenly I could feel my heartbeat in my ears. The pressure and pounding made my head feel like a bass drum. I couldn't remember the last time I heard her name out loud. I sat silent for a few moments, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I almost forgot," he said finally, and reached back into his pocket. "Make sure you open this," he handed me an envelope, "after you read that," he pointed at the little black book in my hands. "Ryan's orders." he shrugged.

He didn't stay long before I was watching him head back to wherever he came from. My fingers turned white gripping the notebook. I was worried if I let go it would somehow disappear.

At the same time I was afraid to be alone with it. I was afraid of what could be inside. Maybe it was a book of things she never got to tell me, or maybe an account of the memories that we should have shared. Could it be she would finally tell me why she packed up and left all those years ago?

Hearing her name again made my body ache, like it was straining itself working overtime to feel every emotion at once. It wasn't as if the name didn't run through my head constantly since she left, but in my head it was different.

I remembered her as she was the last time I saw her.

It was on my birthday, I couldn't recall which. She showed up after my friends had left, and I opened the door to her smiling face.

"Hey." she rocked back and forth on her feet. "I wasn't going to show up because... well you know." she shrugged.

"Yes, I know." It was the first time I'd seen her in months, but each time she came around it was like she'd never been gone.

"I have something for you." I noticed the gift bag swinging behind her back. She shoved it aggressively in my direction. "It's nothing special. It's not even anything good. Just something I made." I took the bag.

"Thank you. You didn't have to get me anything." I held out my arm. "come on." She came closer until I wrapped her in a hug.

My skin tingled where her hands rested. Something inside me warned that I must let go, so I did.

I took a step back, and leaned against the door frame.

"You know, you can come in if you want to." I offered. I wanted nothing more than for her to agree, but I knew she wouldn't. She kicked at a chunk of snow on the porch with her boot.

"I can't do that." her shoulders sank. I was almost sorry I asked, but the slight chance she would agree almost seemed worth it. "I just wanted to say happy birthday, but I should probably get going now."

When I watched her walk away that night, I could have sworn she was going to turn back once or twice. I prayed she would. She didn't.

I waited for her car to peel away and disappear down the street before I went inside. I rushed the gift over to the table, threw the tissue paper from the bag, and pulled it out.

A Pillow.

I ran a hand over the fabric. It was soft, it felt like a worn out T-Shirt. I only realized why when I turned it around.

It was a T-shirt. Or it used to be. A t-shirt I'd seen so many times that I was almost embarrassed I didn't recognize it immediately, even after it was cut, sown and stuffed. Her favorite band's logo was printed on the front, but it had begun to fade a few years before I first saw it.

She was wearing it the night we first met. The night I returned home from college for the summer.

My parents must've forgotten which night I was getting back because when I pulled up to the house the lights were off, and everyone was asleep.

I moved silently through the dark house to my old room, ready to crash after driving for hours. I hit the light switch and set my bags on the floor, but I was startled by an unexpected groan.

"Shh, I'm sleeping, turn that off." She protested quite boldly for a stranger in my room.

"I didn't know anyone would be in here." I wasn't sure what else to say. She sat up, clearly disoriented, and looked at me through squinted eyes covered in glitter and smudged black eyeliner. Her hair was choppy. It fell in her face until she pushed it back with one smooth motion.

"You're not Tony."

"Nope, I'm not Tony." I confirmed. I should've guessed she was one of my brothers friends.

"So you must be..." her forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember.

"Jesse?" I offered.

"Right! Jesse," she gave a sleepy smile. "Well, Jesse, welcome back."

"Welcome back... to my room?" I looked around. It was unchanged besides the girl in my bed.

"Oh, you're probably tired." she slid to the far side of the bed, and patted the spot next to her. "Don't worry there's plenty of room." without another word she turned over, and fell back to sleep in seconds. I sighed. I was exhausted, otherwise I might not have slept so soundly next to a stranger who hadn't even told me as much as her name.

I realized I was smiling thinking about that night, and a wave of pain surged through my body. I didn't want to smile. They weren't happy memories anymore. I doubted she remembered them like I did, but I could no longer doubt she remembered me. The little black notebook was proof of that.

I took it inside. The screen door slammed shut behind me, and I pushed aside the newspaper and lukewarm coffee to set my new possessions on the kitchen table.

It was time to open it. I had to. I ran my hand across the cover before opening it to the first page.

"You'll only know if you kept it. I put my explanation inside. I suggest you not read it, take what's in the envelope, and move on, but I wont deny you the option anymore."

I turned to the next page for more, but it was blank.

If I understood what she was telling me, then the answer was in my possession the whole time. How cruel. It followed me from house to house all my life just to end up in the dark corner of my attic I hardly dared to think about.

Few occasions had me climbing the wobbly stairs to the attic, but for this I wasted no time. I knew exactly where to find it. I took it down from the dusty attic, and back with me to the kitchen table.

The pillow was even more worn now if that was possible, but I could never bear to throw it away.

I ran my finger along the seam all the way to the the corner where some of the stuffing had begun to come out. I grabbed the sides and tore it open further, just enough to reach a hand inside.

A piece of paper grazed my hand. I grabbed onto it, and quickly pulled it out. I unfolded it gently, and began to read.

"I'll be gone soon after you get this. We both know closure doesn't work with us, if it did I wouldn't be writing this. I have an opportunity that I'm going to take, and now you'll have the opportunity to move on. I just wanted to tell you something before I go.

I have a jar in my closet filled with coins, but wait, that's not the pathetic part. I add more each time I think about you. Usually just whatever change I have lying around. Sometimes I can go a few weeks without adding another coin, but other times I think about you so much in a single day that I've had to throw in some dollar bills.

I think about you, I care about you, and of course I love you, but I can't do this with you right now. We do more harm than good, and we both know it.

I hope we meet again down the road. I have a strong feeling we will. When it happens maybe I'll show you this note (If I'm not too embarrassed), and we can use the coins I collected to buy something nice together. I guess it depends on how often I think about you, but I have a feeling I'll be needing a few more jars soon.

If you're reading this, and I'm not next to you, or hiding in a nearby room, then just know I had a happy life. I hope you did too. But the only other reason I could stomach you reading this is if I'm gone for good. I wouldn't be strong enough to stay away if I explained myself before then, but maybe death can give it a shot

Love,

Ryan."

I felt the tears welling in my eyes, but before I let them fall I remembered the envelope and tore it open.

Twenty thousand dollars. It was a check for Twenty thousand. It seemed like a mistake. I counted the zeros, and the number was written clear as can be.

"Thinking of you." the memo line read.

Tears ran hot down my cheeks, and I gave into them.

I didn't know how long they ran, but they stopped long before I heard the screen door open, and Andi's bags hit the counter. She was humming a song from the radio while she put her things away.

"Melanie said she missed you today." she mentioned. I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve, though they were dry.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes dear, you'll have to come with us next time." I turned around in my chair, and watched her take a pan from the cabinet. She moved around gracefully grabbing what she needed around the kitchen.

Her face was red from the heat, a few strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. I watched her fan herself with a magazine. She was glowing. Her makeup had worn off after day in the heat, but she was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

I stood, and walked to the sink where she was washing her hands. She noticed me watching, and smiled.

"What?" she chuckled. I just shook my head. She splashed me with a little water before drying her hands.

I took her in my arms where she always fit so perfectly.

"I am so lucky to have you." I whispered.