Learning to Live

Chapter 21

"Okay, we'll be ready in an hour." I heard Shana tell someone on her phone before I enter the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to visit the Connellys. You have thirty minutes to prepare, so get to it."

"What?! Why Shana?! No!"

"Honey, you said that you wanted to make things right in your life before you go. So I think this is a good place to start. I've planned this trip because I know you wouldn't do it yourself or you'll just procrastinate until it's too late. You need to resolve this."

I hate it when she's right.

We packed a few things and waited for the driver to arrive. A blue pickup truck drives up outside. A short chubby man hopped out of the vehicle as we approach him.

"Is this our ride? Is he our driver?" I asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"No, he is not. Ian this is Hal from the vehicle rental services and I rented his truck for the weekend."

"Why would you do that? Why not use your car or mine?"

She smiles, "Remember I told you my car is at the shop, I'm getting the radiator fixed and your car...I'm not driving that thing."

"And why not? It's an Audi. Why not just charter a flight?"

"Come on. We're going to be late." She smiles ignoring my question.

"Well, do they at least know that we're coming?" I got in the front seat.

"Umm no?" She said swiftly while starting the engine.

"Shana!"

"I'm sorry, I've tried her number but she's not answering."

Even though I was slightly bothered that Shana orchestrated this plan behind my back. Deep down inside I was proud of her for doing this for me and rightfully knowing I wouldn't have done this on my own. On the road, I kept thinking about meeting the Connelly's again. I imagine that they'd open the door and at the sight of me they'll immediately close it in my face.

Hours later the truck abruptly stops, "okay, I think this is the house." Shana said pulling up the hand brake.

"Yep, This is it alright," I said peeping out the window.

This was definitely where the Connellys live. It's a two-story house with two windows at the top. When I was a child visiting with my mom, I used to imagine those windows were eyes watching the neighborhood. The lawn is so green and manicured it looked as though it was gardened by Jesus himself but Mrs. Connelly was passionate about gardening. She never let anyone walk on the grass or played near it.

After locking up the truck, Shana held my hand and gives it a subtle squeeze. "Are you ready?"

No.

"Yeah, let's go."

We started walking towards the door when something blue on the mailbox caught my eye. It's a faded painted handprint of a child's...Charlie's. I rest my hand on it, suddenly memories of him flashed through my head.

We continued walking towards the mahogany door and stopped in front of it. I look down at the walkway and it looked the same, nothing had changed. My mind started to replay the image of Charlie running out of the house and into the street where he died. I point to the street. "That's where he died. About 10 feet away from the sidewalk."

"That must have been so traumatic for all of you."

"Yeah, this is a bad idea. I know I said that I could do it but I can't." I let go of her hand and was about to go back to the truck, she grabbed my hand with both of hers and pulled me to a stop.