The physical therapy was intense and expensive and I didn't realize what a toll my actions had taken on my family. Moms were distant with each other and with me. Callie's hair was long and blonde now oddly enough. I remember the first time I took a step without the use of my cane, was a happy occasion. I remember the tears that streamed down my mother's face. And she looked at me, while munching on a carrot stick, she actually looked at me like I was going to be okay. That look, that made me remember.
My dad stops by once a week like clockwork and we sit in the living room. He talks sports, I talk about her. He gives me a look, and I give it back. Somewhere along the line his little boy turned into a man. He doesn't know what to say after twenty minutes so he stands, fixes his belt, and leaves. I vow to never be like that to my children. I don't get special treatment from anyone, not even at school. I'm the odd one out now, and I'm counting down the days until graduation. Until I can grab her and run, there's only 60 left now. I remember the map we had drawn out of where we would go, I just don't remember where I put it.
I remember our first date. I took her to a movie, and then to the neighborhood diner, she smiled the whole time. I like to remember her smile, it makes me happy. We sat and talked for hours about everything. About nothing. She told me her hopes and dreams, how she wished to be nothing like her parents, but everything like moms. She told me the envy she felt with the bond I had with my parents, and I scoffed at her, because there was no bond anymore. We were strangers now.
We walked that day because being in a car gives me stomach pains, so bad that I can't see straight and I pray to god that it won't be this way forever. I'd like to travel the country with her, but I can't do that if I can't get in a car. My legs are getting stronger and I can walk further these days, but I won't ever make it to Connecticut. I smile at the thought of the east coast, far enough away from here, but close enough to still call home. I remember what it's like to have a home.
When we get back to the house she kisses my cheek and goes upstairs and I watch her go. It's then that I realize that this isn't just a passing crush, one that I can get over. I realize that I love her, and I want her with me for the rest of my life. I realize that I hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her go. If you get what I mean.
I give my mother a hug that day, and tell her I love her. I remember the intense pain I felt when she breaks down and cries in my arms. She spills her heart out to me, and I act as the parent and rock her to sleep. I can't carry her to her room so we stay on the kitchen floor until she wakes the next morning. There's a crick in my neck and she groans in discomfort. I remember that I love sleeping in a bed, and I vow to never sleep on the floor again.
I remember Jesus and Marianna telling us that they wanted to live in Puerto Rico once they graduated, that California held too many bad memories for them. I remember the cussing moms spat out, wondering what they did wrong. No matter what anybody said they didn't believe that it wasn't their fault.
And when Jude finally came out to the family, we had a party. Everybody came, including Talya and Wyatt. I remember standing in the corner with Callie, she beamed so proudly at her brother. Her smile was contagious and I found myself grinning from ear to ear with her. That night was the best night of my life. I remember the way she felt beneath me on the beach. The smell of the ocean and the scent of her hair. I remember the way she moaned as I slid into her for the first time. The kisses I peppered her face with. The murmured I love you's being carried away with the wind. I remember laying with her for hours, praying that it would never end.
I remember when he took her from us. The phone call at 2 am and the front door having been kicked in. I remember the blood that stained her bed, and the scream of terror she shouted before she disappeared. I remember running after his green jeep in my bare feet, but he sped away. I remember the headlines the next day, even if I don't want to.
Mom asked me if I wanted to ID the body, and I remember nodding my head yes. I remember the tears that streamed down my face when I looked at her, blue, cold, lifeless on the table in front of me. I remember breaking down in that hallway and nothing could bring me back. I tried to forget the trial that acquitted him for her murder, because she was cast as a runaway. I tried to forget the constant howls of pain from Jude each night. I tried to forget her. I tried to forget the accusatory stare he gave each and every one of us. As if to say you could have saved her, why didn't you. It broke my heart…
But I remember her smile, and the way she used to laugh when I told a stupid joke. I remember the plans we made, and the love we shared. I remember our long conversations about nothing. And the ones we had that told me everything. I remember how she used to chew her food, or always drink her orange juice. I remember the first day she came to live with us, and the last day she was here. I remember the way her hair used to blow in the wind.
I remember graduation and the moment of silence that was held for her. I remember seeing his face in the back of the crowd, the smug smile he wore. I remember Jude walking on stage to accept her diploma. I remember it all. I finally got the courage to get behind the wheel of a car, and I finally found our map. I took that trip and I never came back.
I remember Callie Jacobs, each day when I wake and each night when I go to sleep. I stand at her grave ten years later and weep because I remember the way she was. It's haunting when I look at her picture in my wallet, and if I stay still long enough when I first wake up I can still hear her. And when I am on that cusp between dreams and reality I think my wife is her. I remember her when I call my daughter for she is her namesake.
I remember you Callie, and I won't ever forget.
End.