The Transplant ✔️

23. In Memory

Jolie's POV:

After much needed attention, the swelling around my ankles and feet had gone down overnight, and I was able to walk around a little the next day. I didn't lead on to my mother how bad my feet had been, for her sake of worrying.

"Jolie, I'm going out for some shopping, then getting some new flowers for the cemetary. Did you want to come ride? I think Emeric is off today, so I'll ask if he wants to come too."

My mother had a habit of visiting the cemetery on a regular basis, but I couldn't find myself willing to go as often as she'd like. It had been more than decade since my father's passing, but still feels like yesterday. When people say that time heals all wounds, they told a big lie. The only thing timing is good for is making me forget the good times my father and I shared together; as for the wounds, well, they're very much seeping with blood.

"Mom, I can't go today. Maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but I'm not feeling so well. You and Emeric should go to town while I stay home for the day." I hated lying to her, but I couldn't bare knowing who was under that grave.

Mom took a spot on my bed, rubbing her hand through my hair as if I were still a child.

"Alright, you don't have to make excuses; I know you don't want to come. You can't do this to yourself, honey; you should go see him." Didn't she know he wasn't in the grave? There was nothing but a corpse buried beneath the surface with the memory of a man I once knew.

"I know that." I said blankly.

Mom scooted closer to me, putting one of her hands around my shoulder and hugging me close. She smelled of citrus and baby powder, a noticeable sign she had just taken a shower to get ready for her day.

"Memorial Day is coming up soon, and you know you can't skip out on visiting his grave. I know you don't want to go, and I try not to force you to go often, but it would make me proud to see you and your brother come with me."

I comprehended what she said, and with much disagreement, I nodded my head yes, ultimately agreeing to her vast demand.

"Thank you. Now you stay in bed while we leave; get you some much needed rest. I'm sure the pilates class has you whipped out from yesterday." Maybe I forgot to mention how I left the studio...

"You have no idea."

I felt the bed slump, then rise again once my mother left my queen bed.

"I left some lasagna in the fridge if I'm not home by dinner time, there's dessert in the freezer, and if you get bored, Candy dropped off some of your old movies." Mom said, counting on her fingers to make sure she didn't forget anything. She acts as if I'm not eighteen years old; I have the ability to take care of myself, thank you very much. At least she cares about me enough to worry, I will admit.

"Okay, love you, Mom."

"Love you." She blew me a kiss from her red lips, then closed my door, leaving a slight crack before I heard her heels exiting the hall.

Instead of having a lazy day, maybe catching up on some reading, I was going to do the opposite of what my mother expected. I was going to Jobe Boston's house, and no, this wasn't the reason I wasn't going to the cemetery. Jobe had invited me out on the water, and even though I was reluctant to agree because of his girlfriend, I couldn't find the nerve to say no. We were friends, an odd pairing under odd circumstances, but we were friends nonetheless and I could hang out with who I wanted.

I packed a bathing suit and an extra set of clothes, with a bottle of sunscreen, and went on my way.

**

"What took you so long?"

Jobe had waited for me, and by the look of his sweaty forhead, he had waited a while.

I threw my bag on his tailgate and grabbed some sunscreen to apply before heading out to ski.

"I got caught up talking to my mom."

"Ahh, funny because my dad cornered me too. He was making sure I wasn't running off doing stupid shit. Don't worry, I didn't tell him about our plans; he'd never be okay with you being around someone like me, even if I am his son." He lied to his father to hang out with me? I guess I should be outraged, but it was sort of sweet. Jobe might have done bad things in the past, but his dad was too hard on him. If Jobe was really so bad, I wouldn't be standing here with him, I knew that deep down.

"Well, I'm okay being around you, if that means anything. I don't think your as much of a jerk I once believed. But don't worry, my mom doesn't know I'm here either; she's too nosy in my relationships." I nervously laughed, hoping he didn't think too much of the word relationship.

"I totally get it. Didn't she ask what you were doing today? What did you tell her?" Jobe quirked a scruffy brow.

"It did come up. I told her I was going to stay in while she went to the cemetery."

Jobe took a seat on his tailgate, relaxing with a bottle of water to stay hydrated before we went on the lake. He was shirtless, a colossal amount of smoothly shaped stepping stones of abs very much alive on his body. I will have to burn my eyes out with a torch to be able to stop staring.

"Why was she at the cemetery, if you don't mind my asking?"

"To see my father. He died a few years ago, and it's been a while since the flowers were changed."

"Oh, I didn't mean to take you away. I can drop you off if you want." He almost jumped out of the truck before I stopped him.

"No, no, I can't go there. I have, uhm, trouble visiting him. It's too hard to bare, knowing that he's down there."

Jobe ushered me to hop on his truck, making sure my feet were unswollen before hopping on.

"Tell me what happened." He was prying for information, and if it was anyone else, I would have cursed him out, but a robotic version of myself seems to speak as always with him.

"He was a war hero, fighting in Iraq for some time. He used to come home, but sometimes it felt like he wasn't really there. When my mom would wait for him to come home from his journey, the other ladies would cry from happiness from their husbands' return, but my mother was empty with emotion. There was one woman who outright asked my mom why she didn't cry, or smile when my father came home. Mom told her it was because my father had disappeared long ago, and she wouldn't be happy if her happiness was going to be short-lived. Mom had a gut feeling that my father wouldn't last long, and she was right. He died of a heart attack, a side effect from his PTSD. My family took it hard, and it became even harder when I fell sick."

"I know it's hard; believe me, we both lost someone we needed. But sometimes bad things happen, and then things get worse, then life goes on...but maybe, sometimes, moving on is the worst part of it all. But when life goes on and the earth continues to turn, you have to keep going in order to stay standing. You have to keep fighting, and keep trying, because that's what our families want, and that's what your dad would want. Stubborn people like the two of us never give up."

Jobe grabbed my hand, the thick fog surrounding my heart unveiling a light of hope I too often forget is there.

"For someone who says they're not too bright, you sure surprise me." I squeezed his hand that held mine captive, not bothering to worry about the close proximity of our legs.

I began to relax a little, a breath of relief that I was able to muster up a conversation about my father. But little to my knowledge at the time, our little heartwarming conversation would lead to more dialogues.

We were encompassed in conversation like two high school lovers that were unaware of the passing of time. We didn't bother going to the lake, sticking to our position on the tailgate. I had grown too comfortable around him, but at the same time, I was also frightened at what I might do if I didn't stay away. He was a tornado in cotton clothing, and he could destroy me in a second. Cuddling against an unavailable man that had limits ending at friendship was more than jeopardous, but I was a girl who craved walking through fire, even with the risk of being burned.