Carpe Diem (18 page)

I take a closer look at the items hanging and select a few that even if I had chosen to do this later, I would still not get rid of. They are nothing special, a few old hooded sweatshirts and a few tee shirts. I take care as I fold each one and set them on the bed.

I return to the closet to select a few items for Bryna. I wonder if I should call her and tell her. I’m not sure I want to burden her with this. She knew it would happen at some point.

After trying to decide what shirts she would want to keep and what she would do with them an idea creeps into my head. I’m not sure I have enough time to have it done, but it’s worth a try. I select my top twelve choices for Bryna and then I add one more to the pile. A smile forms as I imagine her face when she sees what I have done because no matter how I imagine it, she is always smiling.

I take one last look at the items that have hung next to mine for as long as I can remember. It seems like I have been in here for an eternity and Abby is probably wondering what I’m doing up here.

Two hours later, Abby and I have boxed up all of Jack’s clothes, minus the items I chose to keep. I decided to keep an old jacket for Flynn to have if he wants it. It was Jack’s old jean jacket. Flynn used to give Jack so much shit for wearing it and he wore it a lot in high school. I think Flynn will get a kick out of the fact that Jack kept it all these years.

We load the last box into the truck and Abby checks with me one last time to make sure I am okay with this.

I assure her that she did not talk me into this; she only helped me realize what I already knew I needed to do. It was time, and she is right, it is a good way to cross off another item on the list.

When we pull up to the food pantry and shelter, I am feeling even better about doing this. It feels like a weight has been lifted from me.

When we enter the delivery door, there are volunteers busy doing their assigned jobs. Some are stocking food shelves and others are sorting other clothing they received for donations.

I’ve never been here before. I fortunately, never had a need for their services and donations that we have made in the past were through fundraisers, never a direct donation that required me to come here.

I’m so busy looking around that I almost didn’t hear my name being called.

“Piper?”

I turn toward the man’s voice, surprised anyone here knows my name. When I turn, I do not recognize the man. I search my memory, but I am sure I have never met him before.

“Hi,” I say with a smile.

“Can I help you with something, Piper?” he asks forcing a smile of his own.

“Um, yes, we have a large donation to make tonight,” I tell him, still struggling with who he is.

“Oh, okay. What did you want to donate, money or items?”

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” I ask.

“No not really. We were in one of the Grieving Loss Meetings together. My name is Kyle.”

“Kyle, I am so sorry. I should have known.”

“No, I sat in the back, I only remember you because your story hit surprisingly close to home,” he explains.

“I am really sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. How are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m doing better. In fact, I have taken a pretty big step tonight.”

“Oh?”

“My donation is most of Jack’s clothing along with some non-perishables. I do also have some home-cooked meals packaged up if you are allowed to take those,” I tell him.

“Wow, that is a big step. Good for you.”

“Thank you. I’m just glad that someone will be able to get some use out of them.”

“We can certainly use all the donations we can get, let me go get a cart. Oh and we cannot accept the home-cooked meals to distribute, but you are welcome to pass them out,” he tells me and then walks off to get a cart.

I turn to go back to the truck and run right into Abby. With the surprise of Kyle knowing who I was, I had forgotten she was here.

“Holy cow, did you see him?” Abby blurts as soon as Kyle is out of hearing range.

“Uh, what are you talking about?” I ask, looking behind me.

“He is a hottie with a side of cake,” she points out.

The truth is I hadn’t noticed, I was too busy trying to figure out where I knew him from.” I look back toward Kyle again. He is taller with dark blonde hair, he has a broad build, and looks like he works out.

“Sure he is good looking, are you looking to trade Dave in?” I tease.

“No for you.”

“ME? No, he is not my type.”

“You don’t even know what your type is these days.”

I laugh but she has a point. I haven’t ever actually dated. Jack and I met in high school and I hardly consider high school dating practices as real dating experience. All I have known is Jack. What the hell do I know about dating?

“Okay, if you show me what boxes you want me to take I’m happy to unload them for you,” Kyle says, walking toward us with a dolly cart.

“Piper can help you while I go pass the meals out,” Abby blurts.

“Sure, that works.”

I roll my eyes at Abby and she prances off with the box of our creations. She mouths the words,
Just do it
back at me. For someone who was trying not to be pushy about getting rid of clothes, she sure is being pushy about me being
hooked up
.

Kyle and I walk to the parking lot where I open the tailgate and hop into the bed of the truck to push the boxes toward Kyle as he loads them onto the cart.

We work without talking much and for some reason, he seems to avoid eye contact. When I do get a glance, they look kind, as if he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Maybe Abby is right, maybe it is time for me to make this step. It’s not like I can’t back off if I’m not ready. If anyone would understand, Kyle would. Ah, what the hell.

“So have you started dating yet?” I ask. My question comes out sounding uncaring rather than the cute, probing question I intended it to be. I think I am going to be extremely bad at this.

Kyle stops and looks at me with what seems to be a combination of fear and confusion.

“I’m sorry that came out wrong,” I say.

“I see. Because it sounded like you were getting ready to ask me out,” he replies.

“That’s because I was, but I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch while I did it.” I laugh.

“That is very sweet of you, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Oh. Ok, that’s fine. I just thought I would…” I trail off.

I can feel my face turning a thousand different shades of red. Why did I have to listen to Abby? I mean, come on, I am not mentally prepared for something like this. I am a damn idiot.

“No, Piper, I am flattered. I really am. I’m just not ready. I still have some lingering stuff happening with my wife and although I would enjoy grabbing dinner with you sometime, I just don’t think it is the right time,” he explains.

“I completely understand.” I’m still trying to brush off my embarrassment.

Abby returns as we are unloading the last of the boxes with an inquisitive look on her face. I shake my head no and give her a
bug eyed I will tell you in the truck
look.

Kyle helps me get down from the bed of the truck, shakes my hand, and thanks me again for my donation.

Abby and I quickly jump back in the truck and I punch her in the arm.

“You had me looking like an idiot,” I tell her.

“What, how? What did you say?” she demands.

“It’s not so much that. He declined.”

“What? Not possible, he would be lucky to go out on a date with you. I’m going to go talk to him.”

I grab her jacket before she could get out of the truck.

“No, it’s not that. He was very kind in telling me that he is not ready to take that step,” I tell her.

“Oh. I guess I didn’t consider that.”

“It’s fine. Hey, at least I did it. I guess that is still a big step.”

“Right!”

C
hristmas was the one
holiday Jack would look forward to each year. He would stay up late and place the gifts from Santa around the tree, fill the stockings, and always ate the cookies and drank the milk.

Even after Bryna realized that Dad was Santa, he would still sneak down and play his part. The year Bryna went off to school, I didn’t expect him to keep up the charade, but that Christmas morning I woke to find that Santa had indeed come to visit me.

After having a large Thanksgiving, I am not eager to have a large Christmas. I have planned it to be only Bryna and me, but since she took the week of Thanksgiving off of work, Bryna won’t be here until early Christmas morning. I could tell she was upset that I would be alone for Christmas Eve, but I assured her that I would be just fine on my own.

When I wake up Christmas Eve morning ready to start the day, I have more energy than normal. I am normally not a morning person, but when my eyes open, I am up and ready to start the day. I am not sure if it is the excitement of prepping for tomorrow morning or the chill in the air.

I waste no time getting into the shower and getting ready to go to the grocery store. I planned to make a small ham, mashed potatoes, several finger foods, and a few pies. I cannot forget the chips and dip along with the assorted candies. I plan to have a Christmas movie marathon of old Christmas movies and we will need plenty of snack food.

I also need to make a stop to pick up one of Bryna’s gifts. I was nervous it wouldn’t be done in time. Though, the ladies at the shop assured me they would do everything they could to get it done in time. I was happy when one of the women called me last night to tell me the final touches were being put on it and would be ready in the morning.

After my morning coffee, I press the remote start on my key fob to let my car warm up while I get my boots and jacket on. I open my front door and cold air washes over me. I take a deep breath and the cold air fills my lungs. Yep, it’s Christmas.

The tree limbs and roads are blanketed with a light covering of fresh snow that gives my drive a very magical feeling. I have always loved this time of year—the snow and good cheer makes Christmas special. However, come December twenty-sixth I am ready for summer. I think that cold and snow should start the day after Thanksgiving and end the day after Christmas.

Pulling up to the Pointed Needle Shoppe, butterflies are fluttering in my stomach. I can’t wait to see what they were able to do for me.

When I open the door, a little bell rings, letting the clerk know there is a customer. Molly turns to greet me.

“Hello, Piper.”

“Hello, Molly. Dorothy called last night to let me know it was ready for pick up.”

“Yes it is, let me go get it. I think you will be pleased.” She smiles and retreats to the back area.

Looking around the shop, I am still in awe at what these women can do with a needle and thread. The works of art from cross-stitching to quilting is simply amazing. The little details that they are able to work into each item is mind-blowing, and something I could never do.

“Here you are, Piper,” Molly calls to me.

She spreads my project out on the counter and as I look at what they have been able to design and make for me in such a short time, it brings me to tears.