If I Lose Her (20 page)

 I just stood
there, feeling like I was watching a dog mark his territory, only this was not
Peter’s home, it was my grandmother’s, and this was a private place–a sacred
place. I picked up his boots and threw them out into the garage. Then I lay
down on her bed and remembered how, once in a while, in the dark of the night,
when she thought no one was listening, I could hear her crying. I always
imagined it was for my grandfather.

 When the
grandfather clock in the office chimed again I rolled off the bed and joined
everyone else in the living room. Then slowly everyone went home and I was left
with my mother and Peter.

 “I think I’m
going to head out,” I said trying to rub some of my exhaustion from my face.

 “Alex, Peter
and I are staying here tonight. I just thought you should know.”

 “Really?
Where are you going to sleep?”

 “In your
grandmother’s room.”

 “You can’t
be serious. She’s only been gone two days, and your moving in tonight?”

 “It doesn’t
make any sense for us to pay for a hotel room for another night. We were going
to stay here last night, but I thought it would be easier for you if we waited
until after the funeral.”

 “Can we talk
about this outside?”

 She rolled
her eyes then rose from her chair, and I followed her out front.

 “I don’t
like the idea of him sleeping in grandma’s bed.”

 “Alex, he’s
my husband. You and I both know that your grandmother left this house to me,
and that means that he’s going to be sleeping in that bed.”

 “God, mom.
Can’t you at least give it a few days! How do you think grandma would feel
about this?”

 “She’s DEAD
Alex!”

 I slapped
the roof of my car, got in and slammed the door shut.

 “I’m going
to the bank tomorrow with Lauren to open the safety deposit box. I think you
should be there,” she hollered through my window as I turned the car on, revved
the engine to make a point and drove away.

 When I got
back to my hotel room I called Jo and let some of the sorrow of the day wash
away while I talked to her.

 I wasn’t
interested in going with her to rummage through some old papers, so I met my
mother for lunch the next day. My grandmother had left her main house and a
number of stocks to my mother, her rental house and more stocks to my aunt and
a few thousand dollars and some knick-knacks to each of us grandkids. None of
this really mattered to me. These were all details that my mother would have to
deal with. All I wanted was a leather bound photo album that my grandfather had
put together while he was still alive, then I would say goodbye, one last time,
to my grandmother’s house, full of so many fond memories and make the long
drive back home.

 “We’ll be
settling the estate in the next few days, but are you sure there isn’t anything
else you want me to set aside for you?”

 “No, just
the photo album,” I told her.

 “I’m pretty
sure everyone knows you’ve wanted that album since you were little, but just to
make sure there’s no upset, you better let me call all the cousins this
afternoon then you can take it with you tonight.”

 “That’s
fine.”

 I went back
to my room and packed my luggage.

 Four
o’clock. Five o’clock. Six-thirty then seven. No call. It was starting to get
dark. I was getting anxious to get on the road.

 I picked up
the phone and called her.

 “Alex?” She
choked my name through sobs.

 “Hey? What’s
up is everything okay?”

 “Alex, he’s
gone.”

 “Who’s
gone?”

 “Peter. He’s
gone and he took everything.”

 “What? What
do you mean he’s gone and he took everything?”

 “I was at
Lauren’s going over the list of who gets what, and when I got home Peter was
pulling out of the drive. I waved at him to pull over so I could see what he
was up to, see if he had had any dinner yet, but he just kept driving.” I’m
barely able to understand her through the sobs. “He didn’t even look at me. I
didn’t think anything of it, but when I got home, stuff was scattered all over
the house. The bonds, the deed, the cash, your grandmother’s jewelry. It’s all
gone. Alex, I’m so sorry. This was your inheritance. ALEX! What if he’s on his
way back to Colorado? He has keys to the house!”

 “Have you
called the police?”

 “Yes, I just
got off the phone with them. They’re on their way.”

 “Okay, I’ll
be right over,” I said hanging up the phone and running down to my car.

 I twisted
the leather of my steering wheel and squealed the tires as the Cougar kissed
the curb and sped down the narrow road.

 
I can’t
believe that asshole has done it again. I KNEW mom shouldn’t have let him in
the house. I should have kicked his ASS the night he showed up in Minnesota. I
KNEW it wasn’t a coincidence that he was in Minnesota. He was stalking her. He
probably ran out of money and knew that if he sang his sad little song she
would take him right back. I swear to GOD if I ever see that piece of shit
again, so help me.

 
I got
on the highway and drove the ten minutes or so it took to get to the exit to my
grandmother’s house. Then, like a gift from the heavens there he was, fueling
his truck at a gas station on the opposite side of the road from me just
half-a-mile from the highway back to Denver.

 “Son of a
bitch!” I said as I passed him. There was a median between us so I went to the
light to turn around. It was red. I rang my mother.

 “Mom.”

 “Alex, the
police are here. Are you close?”

 “Tell them
that I just found Peter,” I said watching him in my rearview mirror. He hadn’t
seen me.

 “What?
Where? Where are you?”

 “I’m at
Duvil Road just about to get on the highway,” I said. Then Peter got in his
truck and drove out onto the road heading in the opposite direction.

 “Tell the
police we are heading South. Shit! He’s heading out of town. I gotta go!”

 “Alex,
WAIT!”

 Click. I
hung up the phone, tossed it in the back seat and squealed a U-turn through the
red light. 

 He was
two-blocks ahead of me, picking up speed and getting on the highway.

 My heart
pumped adrenaline, and I pushed on the gas.

 As I dropped
it into fourth, the engine roared and the Cougar came to life like it had been
bred for the chase. I pulled up next to him and gestured for him to pull over.
He actually did a double take with a look like he had no idea how I was driving
down the highway next to him. He slowly accelerated ahead of me. 90. 100. I felt
like I was easily jogging next to a wheezing fat man. I put it in 5
^th
and pulled up next to him again. Pull over, I gestured more emphatically, but
he refused to look at me. I pulled in front of him and slowly applied the
brakes. He started slowing down. Then around 65 miles-per-hour he changed lanes
and tried to pull around me. There was a field next to us, so, not seeing this
ending any time soon, I said to hell with it and side swiped his little piece
of crap truck off the highway.

 For a few
seconds he kept some semblance of his speed, driving down the gravel roadside,
until he started fishtailing and lost control of his truck. He slid sideways to
a stop with the nose of his truck caught in a ditch. I followed along side him
until he hit the ditch. Then I pulled off in front of him and backed up to
where he was now stuck. I jumped out of the Cougar, not sure what was about to
happen, hoping the cops were somewhere close behind us.

 “Where the
hell do you think your going?” I hollered as I nearly ran up to his truck.

 He rubbed
his head and got out of the truck. “Look, I think there’s been some kind of
misunderstanding. I was just…” Then he swung and I felt a sharp pinch as his
knuckles connected with my lip. I spun around and fell into the ditch.

 “Do you have
any idea how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that?” he said.

 It felt like
everything slowed way down as I took a few seconds to focus. I could hear the
gravel crunching up behind me, and I spit out the red, iron taste building up
in my mouth. I stood to my feet, driving clusters of tiny rocks into the palms
of my hands. I dusted off my hands and felt my lip. It was bleeding. I punched
him in the jaw, but it didn’t have the same affect. He just let it roll off and
turned back to me with a smile. “Well shit. I could take those pussy punches
all day.” He hit me in the stomach and put a left hook across my eye. The
diamond in his wedding ring split my cheek open. I stumbled forward onto my
hands and knees. The last hit was so right on target that it made both of my
eyes water. He was kicking my ass.

 I used the
side of his truck bed to help me to my feet, trying to sort out my next move,
and there it was. I grabbed the wooden handle and swung the shovel with a
single motion hitting him square in the face with the flat of the blade. Taking
two or three steps backwards, trying to catch himself he fell into the ditch
unconscious.

 I dropped
the shovel, leaned against his truck and slid down onto the ground. Then I
heard the wail of two police cruisers that I hadn’t heard before as they pulled
up next to us with their lights flashing. Since Peter was unconscious and I was
half in shock, they arrested both of us.

 It took them
nearly three hours to roll my fingers in ink and snap a double portrait before
the police decided that since Peter had stolen so much from my grandmother’s
house, my use of the shovel was in self-defense. Around midnight, with an eye
nearly swollen shut, I hobbled out of jail and into the arms of my waiting
mother.

 “Oh, Alex,”
she said wincing at the sight of my eye.

 “Did you get
everything back?” I asked.

 “Yeah,” she
said as I put my arm around her shoulder and we walked to her car. “Your Cougar
is being impounded until tomorrow. We can pick it up then.”

 “What’s going
to happen to Peter?”

 “Well, they
said that since it was pretty clear that he was trying to cross the state line,
they’ll probably be able to pin him with a federal offence. At the very least
he’s violated probation.”

 “Are you
going to press charges?”

 She didn’t
say anything.

 “Well, I
guess you don’t have to, because I will.”

 As I got
into her car I looked at the stack of boxes in the backseat. On the top of one
was my grandfather’s album. I took it out of the box and laid it on my lap.

 “It’s MY
album,” I whispered. Then I leaned my head back against the headrest and fell
asleep.

 It was an
early Saturday morning. I was caught somewhere between sleep and awake when I
smelled the comforting smell of cooking butter. I reached beside me but the
space next to me, still warm, was empty. Then I heard whistling coming from the
kitchen. I lifted myself up onto my arms and looked across the apartment to the
little corner with a stove laughably called my kitchen. In the hazy gold of the
morning light I could see Jo fiddling with something on the stove. 

 “Hey you,” I
said rubbing one eye. “What are you doing up so early?”

 She turned
and scrunched her nose at me. I loved it when she did that.

 “I couldn’t
sleep anymore, so I thought I’d make us some breakfast, anxious for the day I
guess.”

 She slid
whatever was in the pan onto a plate.

 “Why don’t
you come back to bed?”

 “Why don’t
you get up and have breakfast with me? I made French toast,” she said taunting
me with the sweet aroma.

 “Argh,
you’re so evil. I need to sleep more,” I said dropping onto my back. I heard a
pattering of feet across my wood floor as she jumped on my bed. Then she
bounced up and down. I grabbed her, rolled her underneath me and pretend to
fall asleep.       She started laughing. Then she
licked my cheek.

 “Ah, come
on!”

 She laughed
again.

 I wiped my
cheek against hers and she groaned from the scratching of my stubble. Then I
finally let her go, she bounced up and walked back to the table. She took the
bottle of orange juice from the refrigerator, poured herself a glass and took a
drink.

 “What do you
think I should wear tonight?”

 “I don’t
know, you look pretty good in what you’re wearing now,” I said up on my elbows
again. She was wearing one of my white dress shirts, slightly unbuttoned and I
could very slightly see her form through it.

 She just
shook her head as she poured some maple syrup over her two pieces of French
toast and cut a corner off with her fork. I got up, got a fork and took a bite
of hers.

 “Hey,” she
said pulling away.

 “I thought
we were having breakfast together.”

 “I didn’t
say you could eat mine. Get your own,” and she took another bite.

 I put three
pieces on a plate, squirted on the syrup and started eating.

 “What should
I wear tonight?”

 “I don’t
know. Wear what you would wear to an opening. What about that mint green dress
you got a few weeks ago.”

 “Are you
kidding? That’s a spring dress. I’m not wearing that to the Buell OR the Brown
Palace for that matter.”

 I took
another bite realizing I was hungrier than I had thought.

 “We don’t do
this enough.”

 “What, go to
the theatre?”

 “No. Well,
yes that too, but I mean we don’t go OUT enough. We’re young. Shouldn’t we be
going clubbing on weekends or something?”

 “Really?
Clubbing?” I asked.

  “You
know what I mean. We should do stuff more often. You live in LoDo. Don’t you
feel like we should be taking in more of the city?”

 “I think we
do a pretty good job. We know which galleries are good and which ones suck. We
hit up the best coffee shops. We’re at the Tattered Cover at least once a week.
Much more than that and it gets expensive.”

 “True.”

 “Besides, I
am taking you to the Buell right?” I said setting my plate in the sink.

 “That is
true,” and she draped her arms over my shoulders. Then she licked my cheek
again and ran off to the bathroom with a squeal. I followed after her.

 It had been
a week since I had left my mother in Minnesota with my aunt, to finish dealing
with my grandmother’s estate and she was finally home, so I drove out to her
house to see how she was doing. Now that Peter was gone, I didn’t have any more
reservations about walking into the house. She was on the phone when I walked
in, so I waited a minute. Then she gave me a hug, gently moved my chin so she
could get a better look and asked me: “How is your eye?”

 “It’s
alright. Jo’s been babying me so I think it worked out for the best.”

 She smiled.

 “Alex, I
just really want to say I’m sorry one more time.”

 “Mamma, it’s
okay. You loved him. I’m not entirely sure how, but you did.”

 Her eyes
began to tear up, but she took a deep breath. “Yeah.” Then she squeezed my
hand. “I don’t want to talk about that any more for right now. What I wanted to
give you was this, she said pointing to a manila envelope sitting on the counter.”

 “What’s
this?”

 “It’s your
inheritance. After you left and everything calmed down. Lauren found a list of
things momma had intended each of us to have, that she was going put in her
will, but never got around to. We all agreed that that was what we were going
to go off of to distribute everything.”

 I opened the
envelope. One by one I took the items out and laid them on the table in front
of me. There was an elephant skin wallet, still in its box, a pair of carved
tiger’s eye cufflinks, a two-tone wedding ring slightly misshapen and a check
for nearly $5,000.

 “That was
daddy’s wedding ring,” my mother said picking up the band and looking at it.
“It’s in the shape of his finger.” Then she set the ring down.

 “What is
this for?” I asked picking up the check.

 “Maybe it
can go toward a certain ceremony? Since Lauren and I both got a house we
decided to sell the few stocks and bonds that were worth anything and split the
money up amongst you kids.”   

 “Oh wow mom,
thanks.”

 “Well, it’s
not much, but I think your grandmother would be tickled if she knew that she
would be helping you pay for your wedding.”

 “How was
everything after I left?”

 She nodded.
“It was okay. Hard to let go, you know how it is, but okay. Let’s talk about
you. So today’s the big day huh? Do you think she suspects anything?”

 “I hope not.
I saw her this morning and she’s just excited to get to go to dinner and the
theatre.”

 “So, do you
know what you’re going to say?” she asked with big eyes gripping her coffee mug
with both hands.

 “Oh, I don’t
know.”

 “I bet you
do. Come on. Tell me.”

 “Well, we
have tickets to see Les Miserables, but we have dinner reservations at the
Brown Palace for before.”

 “Nice. Brown
Palace. Very nice. Go on.”

 Then I went
into the details of how I had hoped the evening would play out.

 “Ah,
beautiful. I wish I could be there.”

 “Well, I’ll
let you know how it goes.”

 We talked
for a little while longer about how school was going, then I drove to work.

 I pulled
into the small parking lot in front of the newspaper, took my camera bag out of
the trunk and went inside.

 “Alex,” Dan
said as I entered the newsroom and picked up a copy of today’s edition.

 “What’s up?”

 “Why don’t
you take a walk with me.”

 “Uh, okay,”
I said suspicious, because he usually just tossed me a printed sheet with some
specifics of what stories he needed me to cover that day.

 I set my bag
and the newspaper down on my desk and followed him.

 “So, what’s
up Dan?”

 He smiled
one of his ‘give me a second to get my crap together’ smiles then asked: “Can I
buy you a cup of coffee?”

 “I’m okay.”

 “Let me buy
you a cup of coffee.”

 “Okay?”

 
I’m
getting fired.

 
We
exited the building through the grey, employee’s side entrance, crossed the street
and began walking down Pearl Street. The sun was warm, tulips newly planted by
the Boulder city commission were open and beautiful and children laughed and
ran while their parents tried to corral them while still catching a glimpse of
whatever the Pearl Street shops had on display that morning.

 Dan bought
two coffees from one of the street vendors, handed one to me, and we sat down
on a bench where the tree above us broke the sunlight into mottled patches at
my feet.

 “Dan, I
can’t get fired right now. I’m about to propose to my girlfriend and…”

 He smiled
and shook his head.

 “It’s not
that. I got a call two days ago from one of the higher ups, and the news
company that owns us needs a shooter to go cover some sort of student protests
starting up in Colombia. They are changing laws to increase the cost of
tuition, and all of these damn kids want everything for free, so they’re
starting to throw a fit. You weren’t the first person I though to ask, but the
person I asked turned me down. Something about kids or something, then I
thought of you. Travel pay is your normal salary plus hazard based on where you
are, usually around 10% plus travel expenses and per diem. I can’t guarantee
how long you’ll be gone, but you’d be in country at least a few months. Are you
interested?”

 I took a
drink from my cup and ran my hand through my hair.

 I pictured
the engagement ring sitting on my shelf at home, tucked away behind some books
about cars.

 “Dan, I
really appreciate the offer but…”

 He took a
deep breath and interrupted me. “How old are you Alex?”

 “Nearly
twenty-one.”

 “Nearly
twenty-one,” he said looking away. “Nobody’s hungry enough anymore. I spent
nearly the first year of my career living out of a VW bus, chasing every story
I could all over the country.” Then he stood up and threw his cup into the
trash bin near us. “Look Alex, you’re a good shooter, but you’re going to need
bigger stories if you plan on ever shooting for anyone bigger than a college
town newspaper. Take the weekend to think about it. The flight leaves Monday.
If you want my advice, I suggest you get on it.” Then we started walking away.
“Oh, and by the way,” he said turning back to me, “Congratulations on
proposing. I hope she says yes. You’re a good kid.”

 I rolled the
possibilities over in my mind as I watched a child slowly pour gravel onto the
head of a brass turtle statue with a pink-plastic shovel, in a sandbox in the
middle of this walking mall. Fifteen minutes passed before I decided that I was
probably pushing my luck and should get back to the newsroom.

 When I got
back, there was a story waiting for me on my camera bag, but Dan was nowhere to
be seen. I knew the address on the sheet, so I just headed out.

 The closer I
got to home, the more excited I became. I looked at my watch. It was nearly
four. Less than two hours until I picked up Jo. I drove into the underground
parking, pushed the button for the fourth floor and walked into my apartment.
This
place won’t be big enough for us both. We’ll have to get a bigger apartment.
That’s okay, she’ll probably want at least six months to plan the wedding,
maybe even a year.
I shook my head.
Nah, six months.
I unbuttoned my
shirt, kicked off my shoes and tossed my jeans on the bed. Then I went and
turned the shower on. I walked over to my closet, found the white button up
shirt I was planning on wearing and looked at the sleeves. They were wrinkled.
I turned it around and looked at the back. It was pretty wrinkled too, so I
went back into the tiny bathroom that was now filling with steam and hung the
shirt on the outside of my shower door.
That should get the wrinkles out.
I went back to the closet.
No. No. There they are.
I pulled a pair of
navy blue, pin stripped dress slacks out of the closet, looked them over and
laid them on my bed. Then I climbed in under the hot shower water that felt so
amazing after a day of crawling around with a camera.

 
Jo, will
you marry me? Jolene? Jo? Jo. Jo, will you be my wife? Jo, you are the air I
breathe… no that’s too corny. Jo, you’re my best friend. I remember life before
I knew you and it was shit.
I laughed, squirted shampoo into the palm of my
hand, rubbed them together and lathered my hair.
Jo, I love you. I feel like
my life is on hold every time we’re apart from each other, waiting… waiting…
Argh, I am awful at this.
I rinsed the soap from my hair, feeling it flow
like a river down my back. Then I squirted some soap into the palm of my hand
and washed down my face, arms and the rest of my body.
Just speak from the
heart. If it’s real, she’ll know.
I turned off the water, shook my head and
dried myself off. I went over to the mirror. With the towel, I cleared a circle
and looked at myself. “Jo, you’re my best friend, and I love you. Over the last
three years you’ve taught me to be a better person. You believe in me, you
challenge me and you make me laugh. Life is simply more beautiful when you’re
around. I can’t guarantee you wealth or fame, riches or glory, but I can
guarantee you that if you let me, I will love you with every OUNCE of strength
I have for the rest of my life. Jo, will you be my wife?” I said to myself as I
lathered my face with white shaving cream. Then I rinsed my hands and drug a
razor across my cheeks.
Yeah, that sounds good. I should have written it
down. Crap! Best friend. Better Person. Believe in me and life’s more beautiful
when you’re around. Okay, I think I can remember that.
I pulled down one
ear then another, shaving both sides of my neck. Then I rinsed my face and went
back out into the main room. I pulled the towel off of my waist and dried off
my hair one more time. I hung the towel on the back of the door, put on a clean
pair of white boxer shorts and pulled up the dress slacks.
I’m picking Jo up
at 6:30. Our reservation is for 7:00. The show starts at 8:30. By 8:30 I’ll be
engaged. Engaged.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I finished the knot
in my tie and pulled the jacket up over my shoulders. Then I stopped and just
looked at myself.