Keep the Window Open for Me (5 page)

These people were my parents. They had raised me from my birth until near the end of my high school experience. I couldn’t shut off my feelings toward them. It was impossible because when all the past memories of fighting and arguments were peeled away they were still my parents, and I loved them so much. I’m not sure how long the embrace lasted, but by the time we parted our tears had dried away. Looking between my father and myself, my mom suddenly waved us off as she wiped at her sticky
cheeks.

“Now that’s enough of that. I have to check on dinner,” she said before disappearing back into the house. I shook my head, amused that she hadn’t changed since I was young. My mother wasn’t the kind of woman that liked mushy situations. She was strong-willed and more stubborn than anyone I knew. She had always been set in her ways. If someone didn’t agree with her, she’d do her damnedest to sway their opinion. If she failed in doing that, she’d make that signature expression of hers. Her eyebrows would furrow together, her eyes would narrow just a bit, and her lips would press tightly together. When she made that expression, whoever knew her knew she was trying to resist voicing her opinion any
further.

With my mother gone, my father and I were the only ones left on the porch. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, studying his shoes. His awkward attitude rubbed off onto me as I scuffed at the ground. My father had never been a man that was good with words or actions. He always had stood off to the side in silence when an uncomfortable situation came about. My mother was the enforcer of the two, while my father remained placid and willing to bend to a certain
degree.

“I…” he began to say, clearing his throat with a stiff cough. “I’m glad you came home,” he finally said as he reached out probably trying to give me a hug as mom had only to change his mind at the last second. The split second decision caused his hand to remain motionless in the air before coming to rub my upper arm
awkwardly.

“Thanks, Dad,” I murmured as the brief contact ended, and he stood stiffly at the door once again. Had it really come to this? Did he truly not know the right way to handle me after these many years apart? I knew that this was my fault. It was the result of my stubbornness. I had been so spiteful toward them when I was younger that I had thought I would never want to speak to them again. To be here at the front door to my childhood, I found myself regretting my decision to stay away. I had lost so much time sticking to something that in the end brought me nothing and almost made me lose such an important relationship in my
life.

Looking at this old man that years before when I was a child would take me into his arms and spin me around making me believe I could fly for but a moment, I felt an ache of loss. His eyes were different than I remembered. Shifting from his nerves and uncertain, he looked at me like he was looking at a stranger. And the cold hard truth of it was that he
was
looking at a stranger. Just how much time did it take for a daughter to become a stranger to her own parents? If I had come back a year earlier would it have made a
difference?

“I…” I wanted to say so many things then. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to admit that I was wrong. I wanted to say that I loved them but I wasn’t brave enough to open my mouth. So I bit my lip and set sad eyes upon my
father.

“I think it’s time we go inside,” I ended up saying. He gave me a half smile out of relief of this awkward situation and
nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed and stepped aside to let me through. I crossed the threshold a moment later. As my father’s hand touched my back to guide me forward, I suddenly was a child again and my family was whole. The divorce had never happened, and I was still just a little kid whose worries were self contained to if my mom had run out of my favorite cookies. For but a moment, my restless heart was at
peace.

In the kitchen, my mom was busying herself. In the doorway of the kitchen and dining room, my dad stood awaiting his marching orders from Mom. And I, just as I did when I was little, was setting the table. It almost felt real, this delusion that I was indulging myself in. For the first time in a long time, my heart wasn’t hurting and I felt a glimmer of happiness. How easy it is to be happy when a person’s world only consists of themselves and their
parents.

Reality finally hit me again, and I found that the ache within me had grown in intensity, and as I set the table, I had to stop to catch my breath before continuing on. This was all becoming too much for me to
take.

With the table set and dinner ready, we all sat down at the small dining table. My parents sat together across from me. It was eerie how so much time could pass and yet the picture of them sitting together back then was near identical to them now. Some things just didn’t
change.

I took some solace in that fact. Perhaps it gave me some semblance of hope that when I was gone my parents would remain unchanged from how they were now, as if my death wouldn’t impede on their lives enough to disrupt the picture of them sitting side by side at the dinner
table.

We began to eat in relative silence, none of us knowing exactly what to say to each other. But it didn’t last long as my mother as per her usual self found the words we were all searching
for.

“Erin, what have you been up to?” she asked cautiously, probably fearing that if she was too forceful she’d scare me off. The question seemed so simple and commonplace. It was the kind of question that could inquire about days, weeks, or even months. But instead, I would be informing them about years of my life they had not been a part of. I wasn’t sure what to say to them. So much had happened since the day I graduated high school and disappeared from their lives. I had gone to college, graduated medical school, became a nurse, gained a dear friend and lost her, fallen in love, and was told this would be my last few months to
live.

“I went to ISU for a few years with my major as undecided until I met a girl named Rose.” I began at the very beginning. There was no other logical place to start. I told them about everything I could recall. Danny was mentioned often. He had been such a huge part of my life that there was no possible way to leave him out. They listened to each and every word I said, and as I continued on and on about my life their smiles grew and a contented expression came upon their faces. I stopped when Rose
died.

I didn’t have the courage to say what came afterward. And so, I made it seem to them as if this last year was nothing special. When in all actuality, that was the farthest from the truth. “And that brings us to now…” I ended it with that. They never stopped staring at me, nor did they comment until the very end. I wonder just how my life would have changed if I hadn’t shut out my
parents.

“I’m sorry that your friend passed away. She sounded really important to you,” my mom commented. I nodded. She had been an important friend. After taking a bite of the cheesy lasagna, I paused mid-chew recognizing the familiar taste. My eyebrows furrowed together in thought as I tried to place this exact taste. My mother had never been able to cook very well. Most of what our family had eaten had come out of a box with instructions. But this tasted like I had had this exact recipe before
somewhere.

“Mom, did you cook this?” I asked, my curiosity finally getting the best of me. Pushing her food around on her plate a bit, my mother hesitated before answering as if she knew what she was going to say would upset
me.

“No, I didn’t. This nice young man named Daniel Blake brought it over last night. I only reheated it,” she explained. My breath caught at the name. Danny… He had come over here? Why had he? How had he even known where my mother lived? My heart sped up, drumming in my ears as my mind raced with unanswered
questions.

“Danny came here?” I asked more to myself than to either of my parents. They shared a look with one another and by that silent exchange I knew that there was something more to this than Danny suddenly stopping
by.

“Erin, last night wasn’t the first time he came. He suddenly showed up two months ago one morning. He looked very troubled by something. When he mentioned he was looking for you, I talked with him for a while,” my mother said with tender eyes set upon me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Had he gone looking for me truly? But why would he after what he had said in his dreams? I didn’t understand. Seeing my troubled expression, my father chose this time to voice his
opinion.

“He seems very earnest. He’s been coming by everyday to see if you had contacted one of us or visited. He—” he chimed
in.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” I interrupted him. I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but I didn’t want to hear more about the man that I had been trying to get away from for two months. And to hear that he was looking for me…I couldn’t take
it.

There was no further discussion of Danny after that. Perhaps my parents could see that that was a touchy subject with me, or perhaps they didn’t want to scare me off by talking about someone I obviously didn’t want to talk about. When I looked down at my food next, my stomach did a nasty flip knowing that Danny had made this meal. I pushed my plate away. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry
anymore.

Conversation didn’t resume for a long time, but when it finally did it was of trivial subjects like the weather and day-to-day activities. By the end of the night, it actually felt as if we were a real family having dinner together like we had done it for
years.

Soon we all found ourselves back in the kitchen. Mom was washing dishes. Dad was plastic wrapping any leftovers. And I leaned back against one of the counters watching the scene unfold. This is what would happen in any normal family. Because of the divorce, our family had been split apart and due to my stubbornness we hadn’t gotten back together until this night. And because of my heart, my high spirits dropped like a rock at the thought, this family would fall apart
again.

It wasn’t long before the dishes were washed and put
away.

“Well I’m headed to bed. Are you sure that you’re all right sleeping on the couch?” my mom asked drying her hands with a towel. I
nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I reassured her. She smiled and hugged me close to
her.

“All right, I’ll set it up for you before I go to bed. Good night sweetheart,” she told me, reluctantly leaving the warm
embrace.

“Just let yourself out, Thomas,” she said, patting my father on the shoulder as she left. When the leftovers were wrapped and put away, my father came up to me with hesitant
eyes.

“Well it’s about time I go home,” he had started to say. He didn’t want to leave. That much I could tell. His life wasn’t here anymore though, and so he had to go. I nodded, knowing that he was right. It was getting
late.

“I…I’ll come by again tomorrow after work. We’ll talk more then,” he said with a small hopeful smile. He wanted to believe that this bridge I thought I had burned long ago was being repaired. I wanted to believe that
too.

“Yeah. That sounds nice,” I
replied.

I’d like that, talking with my dad after such a long absence. He reached out tentatively still unsure how to deal with me. He finally settled on patting my head. Suddenly growing bold, my father pulled me forward and kissed my forehead lightly as he used to do when he’d tuck me in at night. The familiar gesture made me tear up knowing that he wasn’t sure if he was still allowed to do this since I was grown and had been gone for
years.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered to me. “I’m happy that you’re home,” he
said.

I couldn’t say a word in reply. Could I really say that I wasn’t home? Could I really tell him that this was just temporary? My father left
afterward.

Chapter Five

Even though I knew that my mother was just upstairs, I felt alone in this house that I called home once upon a time. The clock chimed within its walls and echoed down the halls signaling the late hour. My hands were the first to start shaking. My legs followed suit a moment after. Soon my entire body was being rampaged by small tremors. I couldn’t stop it even if I
tried.

A small hoarse sob escaped my throat as I quickly slapped my hands over my mouth to stifle it as if that would somehow stop the emotions that were quickly overcoming me from escaping. They had been so happy to see me. With true interest they hung on my words as I told them about my life since my departure from their lives. I hadn’t known it would be this difficult to face them. If I had, I wouldn’t have come back at all. I would have lived with my guilt to the day I died if I had known that this kind of pain would come from seeing them again. Another sob choked me as I slid to the cold wooden floor. I loved my parents; I truly did. I couldn’t have told them about my heart. I couldn’t have said that these were my last months. It would have torn them apart. And from their grief at my situation, it would have made all of this real to me as
well.

My hand dug into my pocket for my cell phone and upon retrieving it, I dialed the well memorized number. I called the only person that I could talk to about this entire
situation.

The phone rang and I squeezed the receiver praying to God that she would answer. The phone rang a second time without an answer. The third ring came and went. My anxiety grew the longer the call went unanswered. Finally relief washed over me as the other line picked
up.

“Hello?” a groggy voice said. She had been sleeping no doubt at this late
hour.

“Sammy,” I called weakly. It was all the volume that I could muster. Any louder and my voice would
crack.

“Erin? What? What is it?” she asked instantly sounding more alert. She was worried. I cringed at the tone trying to keep myself from completely breaking down and crying like I so desperately wanted to
do.

“Sammy, I…I don’t want to die!” I cried, my control slipping from my hands completely. Terrible sobs racked my body, while I sat pathetically shaking on the floor. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live out my life just as anyone else was going to do. I didn’t want to leave my parents and my friends behind. I didn’t want to be erased from this earth without any way to stop it. I couldn’t die like
this!

“Erin…” Samantha tried to say, but the right words escaped her. What did someone say in this sort of situation? “You need to calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick if you cry so much,” she tried to console me, but I found no comfort in her
words.

“I’m already sick,” I whispered. Pain radiated up my left arm. My heart constricted in my chest as the stress of it all weighed down upon me. I couldn’t take it. My life was falling apart around me, and there was nothing I could do to put the pieces back together. It was all tumbling down like a snowball from the top of a mountain gaining momentum and mass as it continued its destructive path. It wouldn’t be long before it crushed me completely. Was there a limit to how many tears a person could
cry?

If so, I think I passed it long ago. The phone dropped from my hand, clattering to the floor. I struggled to stand. Stumbling, I crashed into the kitchen’s doorframe. I gripped onto its wooden frame searching for something stable in this world that was constantly in
motion.

I had to get out of here. This room was suddenly stifling, strangling me out of my last breaths. There wasn’t any thought behind what I did next. It was entirely instinct
driven.

Leaving my phone, coat, and my shoes behind in my haste, I ran from that house as fast as I could possibly go. Cold met my face and bare feet the instant I set foot outside. The freezing temperature didn’t deter me, however as I continued
on.

Soft careless snowflakes fluttered down from the sky blanketing the ground below in its pure white substance. The snow remained deafly silent despite my desperate heavy sobs as I ran down the empty streets bathed in the pale moonlight. The white puffs from my hot breath that lingered just a moment after I passed by, and my footprints in the ankle deep snow whose coldness stung at my already numbing feet were the only indication of my existence. Each sign was cleared away without resistance. Could it really be so easy for something to be
erased?

Hot tears that cooled the minute they rolled down my cheeks skewed my vision, but I could tell where I was as I slowed my desperate pace and came to stand just a few feet away from the same window I had spent most of my teenage years climbing
into.

This was the last place that I had felt safe. Whenever I had a problem or felt like I was falling apart I would come here. It was only natural that I found my way to this place
now.

Breathing hard to recapture my lost breath, the cold finally registered and I began to shiver violently. I didn’t move from my spot despite where I was or how cold I had become. This place was the source of it all. The man that lay sleeping inside was the center of my thoughts and feelings and had been for so many years of my
life.

The window was open as it always was. I sobbed, hugging my middle tightly. I wanted so much to climb in that window and crawl into his bed just as I had done when I was a teenager. No matter the situation, coming here would always make it better somehow. I wanted the situation I was in right now to be better too. I cried loudly, feeling the ever tightening constriction on my heart grow worse. Suddenly, the light flicked on inside the room and panic rose within me. I went to bolt, but I was too slow in my actions, and I was spotted by the person I had said I would never see
again.

“Erin,” he whispered upon the gentle breeze as the snow quietly fell down around us. The world remained quiet and still as Danny stared with wide eyes at me. Our eyes met and within that singular moment of connection, my heart, this fragile pumping organ that had been failing for months, finally broke within my chest. I turned to run, but I only made it one step before a hoarse scream was ripped from my throat. It echoed as I fell into the snow. There was movement as searing pain enveloped my body and soon I found myself in the arms of the man I loved with all my body and
soul.

I didn’t hear the pounding of my heart anymore. All fell quiet like the silent snow as my vision grew darker with each passing second. Danny was shouting, but I heard none of it. His mouth was moving and he looked so panicked. Vaguely I felt my body being jostled from being shaken. The last thing I remember is seeing Danny’s face looking so pale and frightened, while he cried and shouted mutely to
me.

I don’t know what happened after that. I remained weightless into total darkness for what seemed like eternity until the soft constant sound of beeping caught my attention. Once I locked onto that disembodied sound, I was pulled from the black and my eyes groggily opened. The smell was the first thing I noticed. From my years working in the medical field, I knew from the distinct odor in the air that I was in a hospital. Memories from the night before flooded back to me and I realized that Danny must have called for an ambulance. My heart must have
stopped.

“You’re finally awake,” a familiar voice said next to me. Turning my stiff neck, my eyes widened to find that Danny was sitting in a chair right next to my hospital bed. I tried to move, to flee, but my limbs felt heavy and my efforts were in vain. I wasn’t paralyzed, but extremely weak. Unable to leave, I reluctantly surrendered to my
fate.

“Why—?” I asked roughly in a choked
voice.

“Here, this should help,” Danny said as he immediately poured me a glass of water and handed it to me. I gladly accepted it and gulped it down before trying to speak
again.

Looking down into the plastic cup, I bit the inside of my
cheek.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice still a bit raspy. Danny sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. It was only then that I noticed that he was only wearing a white T-shirt and his grey pajama pants. He must have been sitting with me the entire
time…

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asked defensively. He looked so worn out. “I’m here because you up and disappear for two months without saying anything and then in the middle of the night I find you standing outside of my window crying. And then you—” he stopped himself, clenching his jaw
tightly.

“And then you have a heart attack and nearly died right before my eyes,” he said as he shook his head. So I had had a heart attack. Danny looked so
tired.

“Why did you leave Erin?” Danny suddenly asked. “Just please tell me why,” he said begging me. My lips pressed together tightly to keep myself from crying again. I didn’t want to talk about that night, but I had no
choice.

“I couldn’t stay,” I told him, my throat thick with my tears that were already beginning to well up in my eyes. “You didn’t really love me,” I whispered faintly. My heart hurt again. I should be calling for a nurse or a doctor, but I couldn’t find the strength
to.

“I did love you! I’ve always loved you! What would make you think otherwise?” Danny exclaimed loudly. My fingers flexed against the cup in my hands. Why was he saying these things
now?

“You said her name in your sleep that morning. You said Amanda. I didn’t know what I was supposed to think! You suddenly say you love me out of nowhere and then you say someone else’s name the morning after we—” My voice drifted off, not wanting to remember that night we had spent together. It had made me so happy then to finally have his heart after so many years of waiting in the shadows, but now the memory only brought
pain.

“I said her name?” Danny asked, obviously bewildered by the mere notion of the accusation. I nearly laughed at the irony of it. Of course he wouldn’t remember saying it. He had been dreaming after all. I was the only one that had been
aware…

“Yes,” I said quietly. “It made me think that you still loved
her.”

He did love her…didn’t he? I was starting to doubt myself after what he had been saying. But that night was still so fresh in my mind. And the past that we both shared with Amanda colored my judgment. I didn’t want to believe him again without knowing for sure that he wasn’t lying. I didn’t want to be hurt again. Danny shook his head like he couldn’t believe what I was telling
him.

“What? No, no. Jesus. Erin, do you know the reason why Amanda and I broke up all those years ago?” he asked
exasperated.

At the question, I shook my head. It had always puzzled me why they had broken up. I had always thought that Amanda had either snapped or Danny was fed up with her controlling nature. Danny stood, moved to the edge of the bed, took my glass of water, and set it on the table. He then took my hands in his. At the contact, I faintly noticed that his hands were slightly trembling. I couldn’t help but wonder why. Was he afraid of
something?

“It was because of you. It was because I fell in love with you, Erin,” he said with absolute sincerity. My eyes widened in shock at the explanation. Never in all the years since then would I have guessed that I was the cause of their breakup. Had he truly been in love with me since the very beginning just as I had? I looked into his eyes and watched as they flickered with need and with fear. Could it really be true that maybe all of these years we had spent by each other’s side he had been feeling the same as I had? It seemed impossible for the two of us to be in love with each other, but remain completely in the dark of the other’s feelings for
years.

“I…I don’t believe you,” I said, trying to convince myself. Even with his explanation, I couldn’t just leap head first into this as I had months ago. I needed more convincing to be
sure.

“Damn it, Erin. Why did you think I left my window open for you all these years?” he
asked.

“I…don’t know,” I replied, feeling trapped in this conversation that I didn’t want to be a part
of.

“It’s because I love you, Erin. I don’t know how many times I have to say it for you to finally believe me, but I always have,” he said softly. He hung his head after that statement waiting for my reply, waiting to see if I believed him this time. I wondered how long he’d wait for an answer. Would he stay this way for minutes, hours, or even days waiting for my response? Could he spend years of his life waiting for me like I had for him? And with that thought, I realized something that had never crossed my mind before this instance. He had been waiting just as I had been. Each and every day he had waited for me to race over to his house in the middle of the night and climb in through his
window.

I squeezed his hands causing him to look up at me with those tender eyes that I had missed seeing for the past two months. My breath caught as I saw hope flash within them. I wanted to tell him so many things that I loved him, that I believed him, and that I’d stay with him, but I couldn’t get the words out. Instead, gathering my courage, I leaned in close to him and pressed my lips against his in a gentle kiss. He reacted immediately and I nearly cried as I felt that familiar sensation of his kiss. It was perfect in all senses of the word. Suddenly we were the only ones left in this world. Through this kiss, everything else made sense. His feelings for me shown through effortlessly, and all my doubts dissolved away until nothing but security was left behind. The kiss ended only moments later, and I found myself in near tears because of it. I had been so stupid this entire time. But I couldn’t turn back the clock; all I could do was
apologize.