Thirty-One Letters

Twelve

Grief and memory go together. After someone dies, that's what you're left with. and the memories are so slippery yet so rich—Mike Mills

Clara was crying silently in the corner when Hadley walked into the Good Mourning Group on Sunday morning.

She was ten minutes early, something that normally didn't happen but she'd woken up filled to the brim with nervous energy. After an early dawn run on the beach and a quick shower to clean up, she'd grabbed a coffee and headed for therapy.

"It's Paul's birthday," Tommy said as he caught Hadley staring at Clara.

She hadn't heard him walk over and she jumped, slightly startled. "Her husband?"

"Yeah. He would have been twenty-eight today." Tommy's mouth turned down into a grimace.

Hadley could understand where his emotions were coming from. Both Tommy and Clara had lost loved ones to car accidents. While Clara's husband had been killed at the hands of a drunk drive, Tommy's cousin, Garrett, had died because he had been smoking pot and drove high as a freaking kite. Luckily, Tommy, who'd been in the passenger seat, had only been hurt but they all knew the outcome could have been much worse.

Phil motioned that everyone should take their seats. He took one look at Clara's red, puffy, tear-filled eyes and thought better of starting with her. Instead, he focused in on Dion.

"How's your week been Dion? Made any progress?"

The kid shrugged. Today he was dressed in a baggy grey zip-up hoodie and a pair of faded blue jeans. His hands were folded on his lap and Hadley noticed that he was wringing them together as he began to talk. "It's been fine. Mom brought home like three random guys this week but last week it was four so...I guess that's progress?"

"Hmm...And how about you? How are you feeling about your father's passing?"

And so it began. 

Hadley listened intently as Phil went around the group. This week the focus was on growth. Phil kept asking if people were making progress since their first meeting, trying to determine whether or not group therapy was an effective tool for grief counselling. It felt like he was reading a manual, hitting a list of bullet points and making mental checkmarks.

When he landed on her, after nearly ten minutes of grilling Adam about his time at the group, Hadley was prepared.

"So, Hadley...What about you? Marked any milestones?"

"I spent the last three days redecorating my room," she said bluntly. "I don't know if that necessarily counts as a milestone though."

It was the truth. The complete renovation had taken a full three days to finish. From painting the walls and furniture, including her bedframe, dresser, and desk, to changing out the decorations on the wall and adding a plush rug to match her new bedding, she had done it all. Ty had helped dutifully, showing up each day with a smile and enthusiasm that Hadley just couldn't match no matter how hard she tried.

She'd been surprised at his commitment to helping her but Ty actually seemed to enjoy her company. This was a shock as well since she spent almost all of her time baiting him into a snarky comment or aching for a fight. They played Truth for hours on end, asking question after question until Hadley was sure there was nothing left to ask but somehow they each still found new questions that had yet to be answered.

"What made you want to change your room?" Phil asked, drawing her back in.

My idiot brother, she wanted to say but she bit her tongue. That would only lead to questions she wasn't quite ready to answer yet.