1
Hannah
Summer 2016
Ibreathed in the fresh scent of fabric softener while I carried the towels to the linen closet at the end of the hall. “God, Your Momma, and Me” blared from the radio in my room. My brother Bo walked out of his room with his earbuds in, singing along to whatever song he’s listeningto.
“Hey,” Isaid.
He started down the stairs and I banged my hand on the banister, catching his attention. He yanked one of the earbudsout.
“I need you to mop thedownstairs.”
He threw his head back on agroan.
“Come on, Bo. I needhelp.”
“Fine…” he grumbled before cramming the earbud back in and jogging down thestairs.
I shoved the towels in the closet and closed the door before walking to Momma’s room and cracking the door. She was propped up on pillows in bed, writing in her journal. “I’m fine, baby,” she said before glancing up. Her eyes seemed dull and tired, but she tried to hide it with one of her radiantsmiles.
I checked my watch. “You can have some more medicine in an hour if you needit.”
“I’mfine.”
The drinking glass on the nightstand was empty, so I went to the bedside table and grabbed the pitcher to pour some fresh water forher.
This woman was my everything. She’d taken such good care of me growing up, every skinned knee, every hurt feeling she bandaged up and kissed away. That’s what Momma’s do, and now, I was taking care of her. Only, I couldn’t heal this wound… and I was still trying to acceptthat.
I swallowed before leaning over and kissing her cheek. “I love you,” Iwhispered.
“And I love you.” She patted myarm.
“I’m going to go change over the laundry, and I’ll comeback.”
Just as I turned to leave the room, the song on the radio changed. Soft notes floated through the air followed by an all too familiar voice, and I froze at the foot of the bed, unable to move. The memory of Noah singing that song to me that night in the oak tree outside my room placed my heart in a thorn-filled vice, squeezing and pricking until I couldn’t breathe. “Oh… my God,” I whispered, then closed my eyes. It was like a ghost singing to me. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. Taste him. I could remember all the things I’d tried so hard to forget. For a moment, I let his voice soothe me like it had so many times before, because although my mind knew better than to love him, my heart was a fool. It always had been when it came to the bad boy with the prettyvoice.
“Hannah,” Momma said, and I turned to look at her. “Are youokay?”
I nodded. “It’s just…” I cleared my throat. “Um, weird.” I laughed. “You know, I uh, I knew him, so it’sstrange.”
A sympathetic smile turned the corners of her lips up. “It’s hard to let go of people sometimes.” She sighed, motioning me to the bed. I took a seat on the edge of the mattress and she leaned over, wrapping her frail arms around me. “Makes me wonder if maybe there are some people we shouldn’t let goof.”
I wanted to break down and cry, but I refused to waste one more tear over someone I couldn’t have. I may have been the stupid girl who fell for him, but I wouldnotbe the girl who let him ruin her. I wouldn’t, so I had to let himgo.
“Those words…” she whispered next to my ear while. “He’s hurting too,baby.”
“I don’t think so.” And that was the hardest thing for me to swallow: I had fallen in love with someone who Ithoughtloved meback.
“Hannah, listen to thewords—”
“It’s just a song, Momma. It’s his job to sing it.” Sitting back, I looked at her as I shook my head. “It doesn’t meananything.”
She frowned. “You’re keeping it all bottled up inside. Did you ever even tell himgoodbye?”
My heart pounded. “No.”
“You can’t move on when you have no closure.” She squeezed my hand. “You need to tell the boygoodbye.”
