Rekindled Flames | ONC 2024

Chapter 4: A Tiny Mistake

Lindsay

Every day, we met at my locker after the day had ended. We would smile at each other. Exchange a few words about our classes as we began to make our way home. On the twenty minute walk to my place, we would laugh and joke as friends did, but the hands dangling at our sides craved the feeling of the other. Stolen glances during the stretches of silence when we had nothing to say that we didn't have to resort to using our eyes to say. Lopsided smiles that said the words we bit our tongues on. Half sentences to which only we knew the rest of and what we were actually implying. 

We fed off of the silence while we acted as an entirely different dynamic. We were the typical best friends that we had started out as in our sophomore year of high school. But the second we entered my garage turned music studio, that facade crumbled and we became the real us. Most days when we entered our sacred space, I spun Josie around to face me and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It always made her smile and that smile always melted away her icy, guarded exterior, and then she was mine. 

I had to hug her at that point because her raw adorableness made it hard not to. 

We spent hours making music. My favorite thing about these evenings was getting to hear her sing, over my piano instrumentals, the songs that I had written — which were usually for her. I would sit on the small, weathered couch in the corner, softly singing along, smiling at her with love and pride. Then she would come over and sit on my lap, straddling my hips, chest pressed against mine, forehead resting on mine. 

She would recite the lyrics to me this way, whispering them in my ear: "'Darlin', if all the hours in a day would allow, I'd be by your side for every one of them.'"

That was when I began falling in love.

- - - - -

The second day into our vacation was filled with guided tours and getting our nails done at a spa. Millie and I were vibrating with positive emotions by the end of it. It all felt like such a change from my regular life, but it was a good change. I was beginning to bond with my daughter again and that had made me so emotional.

On top of my haywire emotions, I was also experiencing the inevitable. Josie was on my mind for every second of the day and more than once I had found myself zoning out, Millie having to nudge me back to reality. She appeared the tiniest bit concerned — as concerned as she could be with the numerous distractions begging for her attention. She even asked me at one point if I was feeling alright. 

I had never had that question from my daughter aside from instances when she was much younger and much more attached to me. So, it threw me off guard. I couldn’t tell her the truth because I knew that I hardly had the time to explain it all to her, so I came up with a white lie about being tired. I didn’t want to lie, but under these circumstances, it was better than to attempt to explain this entire situation without scrambling her brain. Josie and I had a history that would give anyone a headache and it had succeeded in giving me one. 

But now, with the sun beginning to set, Millie and I had settled on sitting and talking near the pool. She had brought a book with her as per usual and I just had my mind set on watching the sunset. We took a few steps out onto the deck. I couldn’t help my eyes wandering the space, looking for a certain someone yet at the same time not looking for her. Many people with wide brim, floppy hats and sunglasses sat around. It wasn’t going to be easy to spot her anyways — the whole point of her wearing those things was to blend in.

So, with the intention to let Millie pick where we sat, I turned to her only to be stopped in my tracks as a boy and a girl her age had engaged her in a conversation. That’s good for her, I thought to myself, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit betrayed. I took a step back, leaving her to her conversation and spared another glance behind me. 

“Mom,” came Millie’s voice a minute later. “Is it okay if I play tag with their group?”

I smiled, a part of me proud of my daughter for doing something extroverted. She’s always preferred being by herself. “Of course, sweetheart. Go have fun.”

She handed me her book before leaving with the kids to head down to the beach where another small group stood. I watched them for a moment, a part of me wishing to be young again and free of adult responsibilities and life-altering problems tied to complex emotions. What I wouldn’t give to be a teenager again, just long enough to prevent a probably inevitable event from happening.

I blinked away the thought, shocked at the abruptness of it. I had never felt that way about that horrible night. It had always been drenched in negative emotions, quoted as the worst point in my life in my mental dictionary. Now it appeared that I was going soft. Yes, I wished that Josie could have been a part of my life through it all now, so what changed?

As if my thoughts had the power to manifest something to that degree, the moment I turned around, I spotted her. Stretched out on a lounge chair, in yet another sundress stopping above the knees and hugging her hourglass figure perfectly, Josie appeared as though she had not a care in the world. Her floppy sun hat covered most of her face from the sun, but the rest of her body basked in it. I wondered if her pale irish complexion still couldn’t handle sunlight for longer than a half hour at most, but the sunscreen sitting on the concrete next to her dissolved any questions.

Without my daughter to consider, I forced my legs forward. Maybe she heard me coming, saw me, sensed me, because she lifted her hat from her face the second I stepped in front of her. Gray eyes peered up at me while I offered a gentle smile. When she returned it, my heart fluttered and although it was terrifying, I paid as little attention to it as possible.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I scoffed, “but, well… mind if I sit with you? Maybe we can talk? About whatever, I don’t care.”

Josie did nothing to stop my rambling, but she gestured to the empty seat next to her. Gratefully, I took it.

“Hi, Lindsay.”

I smiled again but it wobbled. “Hi, Josie…”

She glanced down at my hands in my lap clutching Millie’s book. “You’re a reader now.”

“Oh, no. Not really, anyways. It’s my daughter’s. She found some kids to play some games with, so…” I trailed off, eyes searching for Millie on the sand until I found her.

“I see,” Josie hummed and then it fell silent. The awkwardness between us grew — or at least it did for me. I didn’t want to discuss the heaviness that was the incident that tore us apart. Not right here. I just wanted a bit of company.

“Josie?” It felt so foreign to be saying her name again.

“Yeah?”

I sighed. “We need to talk. You know it and so do I. We need to resolve what happened to the best of our abilities because there’s some major feelings there, but… can we put that off for right now?”

She raised an eyebrow, perching herself up on her elbows. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I just want to get to know each other again.”

I’d die to be young again.

Josie’s slow smile calmed every nerve in my body just like it used to decades ago. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Absolutely anything,” I said. I chuckled at the ease with which those words slipped from my lips. Only the tiniest part of me realized the mistake I was making, but it was a small enough part that I could render it silent for tonight.

She mirrored my chuckle, looking up to the sky as she gathered her thoughts. “Anything, hmm? That’s a big ask… there’s a lot.”

“I’ll hear it all.”

A blush coated her cheeks and suddenly, any self-control was thrown out the window. After fifteen years, feelings like these should be pathetic given our circumstances and situation, but what’s the harm? I wouldn’t see her after this week was over and I’d return to the life I’ve carefully crafted for my daughter and I. So, I sat back, eyes watching my daughter as a voice as smooth as silk told me all about herself again.