“I’m sorry, but how do we know the father of Elaine passed by?” I ask. Anna turns toward me again and smirks.
“He told you about Elaine?” She asks suspiciously.
“Tessa and Oliver share the same tragedy. I told her about Oliver’s past.” Mark intervenes. She nods again without sending me the look of sympathy I despise so much.
“So, how do we know about the father?” I ask once again, still waiting for one of them to give me an answer.
“Pat called me.” Mark simply says.
“And?” I pry.
Mark rolls his eyes before going on. “The guy was considered their son. It was his family, and the day his fiancée died, he checked out and never gave them any news. He left me behind, it was okay, I survived. But Elaine’s parents didn’t only lose a daughter that day they lost a son, too. I kept in touch with them and with Anna, and I gave the little news I could show them he was healing, promising I would bring him home soon. It took me five years, but I finally did. I wasn’t letting Pat see Oliver for the first time at a commemorative wake. They needed to talk, and I knew Ol would say no, so I sent Pat the address of the motel and told him to pass by.”
I shake my head and bite my words. “And let me guess, it didn’t go well?”
“On the contrary! Pat called me happy and ecstatic about reconnecting with Oliver. He was super proud of the work he did overcoming his grief, knowing he owned a bar in New York and had a son.”
Anna scoffs, “Yeah, Ol is a real magician when it’s about hiding his grief from people.”
“What then, Mark? Did you try to call him?”
“Right away, and he was okay. Didn’t want me to come by or whatever. Told me he was tired, and I will see him this morning.”
“And then he never showed up?” I ask.
Mark and Anna shake their heads. “I’ve looked everywhere, took all the resources I have to find him, nothing. He knows how to disappear, and maybe I pushed him too hard, too fast?” I’ve never seen Mark so worried.
Anna takes his hand and pats it slowly.
“Have you checked where Elaine died, or at the cemetery, or maybe somewhere significant for them? I know if I felt out of control and needed to feel grounded, I would go back to where King and I were happy. I would just find a happy place and try to find peace again.” Mark and Anna both look at me with understanding.
“We did,” Anna says. “We even checked where she died. Not that I believe he would go back to where he lost her, but,” she shrugs, not finishing her sentence. I would love to tell them she didn’t die where they think she did, but it’s not my story to tell, and I won’t break the confidence Oliver shared. Also, I wouldn’t be able to help or tell them anything more, as he didn’t confide what happened that day. I wish I could help, but there is no more I can say or do.
“He’s an adult who survived losing the love of his life. I’m pretty sure he’ll show up soon.” I lie.
People think that loss is the worst part of grief.
That the moment you lose the one you love is what is the hardest.
But in reality, it’s the life after the loss that is unbearable, the day after day without them.
It’s waking up every morning and knowing they won’t be there to have coffee with you or watch the last Star Wars together when you’re both huge fans. That’s why I stop at the coffee shop every morning and say the previous movies were shit because I can’t stand doing it alone.
I stand and leave Anna and Mark talking in his office while I go to the kitchen for a cup of tea. It’s not my place to be worried, but I can’t stop the emotion.
I can only imagine what I would do in his position and how I would feel if King’s father would come and talk to me.
Not that it would ever happen as I always was just the ho who wanted to steal their son. I wasn’t the perfect wife they expected. I didn’t want children or to stop my career and volunteer while waiting around for their son to come back from a mission.
Maybe I don’t know what it feels to belong to a family after all. Perhaps I can’t imagine what Oliver feels.
I’m drawn away from my thoughts by some commotion in the office. By the time I join, I see Oliver, his earnest face filled with displeasure and Mark and Anna frowning. Slowly, I approach. I slide into the office and make myself small in a corner so I can find out where he was.
“I had the whole office trying to find you!” Mark tells him with anger.
“I didn’t ask for shit, Mark. I told you I was fine. I forgot my phone at the motel, and I didn’t know I had to check in with you!”
“Come on, Ol, you didn’t text or call Naomi or me last night. We were worried sick!” Anna comes closer to him and tries to put her hand on his shoulder, but he steps back.
“And I was fucking tired. Anna, I told you I didn’t want you to come. And you,” he turns to Mark, ”you made me come here under false pretenses so I would talk to Pat and Sue. Well, it’s done! Happy? You two are the worst when it comes to boundaries. You’re acting as if I was a fucking child. You want me to be better? I am. I’m going home, and you can tell whoever hired you that their case is nonexistent. I’m done.” Oliver turns around and finds me in the corner.
