Free Living With Regret by Lisa de Jong

in.
    “I’m tired, but can you pick me up tomorrow. After you get off work?”
    “Aren’t you supposed to stay in bed?”
    “Please. There’s somewhere I need to go, and you’re the only person who I trust to take me there.”
    He sighs. “Rachel—”
    “Please,” I whisper. “The doctor said to limit my activities, and if that’s the only thing I do tomorrow, I’ll be okay. It’s not far.”
    “Six-thirty, but Rachel, I’m going to make sure you’re home by eight.”
    There’s something I’ve wanted to do since I found out what happened to Cory. Something I need to do.
    “Thank you,” I say, feeling relieved.
    “Get some sleep.”
    “Night.”
    I’m about to hang up when the smooth baritone of his voice stops me. “If you get lonely tonight, look up at the sky. The Big Dipper was still there the last time I looked.”
    “I almost forgot about that.”
    “I didn’t.” The only thing I hear is the sound of his breathing as I glance in the direction of the window. I hadn’t thought about the stars since we were kids.
    “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hear the smile in his voice.
    “Goodnight, Sam.”
    When I finally hang up, there’s the hint of a smile on my lips. As kids, we hated when we had to separate and go back to our lonely, quiet homes. Sam came up with this idea that we’d look up at the night sky and find the Big Dipper. He said if we both did it, it was almost like we were together, even when we weren’t. I haven’t done it since elementary school, but the fact that he remembers brings warmth to my chest that’s been missing for a while.
    Rising from my bed, I brace my hand against the wall as I take small steps toward the window. The Big Dipper isn’t the most exciting of constellations, but it was easily identifiable for us. It’s just seven stars, but they shine so brightly, standing out in the endless night sky. Looking up, I spot them easily and lower myself to my knees to fight the weakness in my legs.
    With my chin resting atop my hands on the windowsill, I close my eyes and go back to better times, but memories that once brought a smile to my face only make my tears fall once again. I guess this is what it’s like living with regret.

June 24, 2013
    TODAY’S NOT GOING TO be easy, but I’m the only one who knows that, because I haven’t let anyone else in on my plan for tonight. There are some things that just have to be done, no matter how much they’re going to hurt.
    “Are you going to be okay if I go into town for a couple hours?” Mom asks as she breezes through the living room. The woman has never worked a day in her life, but she never stops. If she’s not cleaning or cooking, she’s running into town. This errand. That meeting. This event. It never stops.
    “I’ll be fine,” I answer, looking up from my book.
    This morning she actually sat next to me for an hour trying to make plans for the rest of my summer. Inside I was screaming because, with the giant storm cloud hanging over my head, it’s hard to plan any sort of future, especially if it involves fun.
    “Your father has a trial today so he won’t be home until late, but I’ll fix us dinner when I get home. Is there anything you’re hungry for?”
    Clearing my throat, I look up at her anxiously. “Actually, Sam’s going to pick me up after work and get me out of the house for a couple hours.”
    She stops picking up, or whatever she was doing, and glances over at me. “It’s way too soon for you to be going out. You’re supposed to be resting.”
    “Jesus, Mom, I’m not going out to the freaking bar.”
    Her lips part as she turns and focuses her attention out the window. I’ve never been a big drinker, but now that one night will forever define me. She’s probably sat around wondering how many other times I’ve drank. How many times did I put the lives of others at risk? Honestly, that was the first time, and that’s what’s making it so hard to