Free (Never) Again by Theresa Paolo Page A

usually on Zach’s part. We would be doing homework or just hanging out with the radio on for background noise, when Zach would hear a song and crank it up. He’d then proceed to sing as if he was trying to win the finale of
American Idol
. I always grabbed a brush or whatever I could turn into a microphone and joined him.
    I answered him with the chorus of the song and we sang for the rest of the drive. By the time we got there I was laughing so hard my ribs hurt. Out of everything, I missed this the most. Just letting loose, being myself, and not worrying what Zach thought about me, because no matter what I did, he’d never think of me any differently.
    With Zach it was easy to be me. I never had to tiptoe around his feelings or feel embarrassed for any reason. And he never tread lightly with me either. Everything was out there, front and center.
    And even though I blamed Zach for the breakup because he stopped calling, I secretly blamed myself too. Because I said too much the last time we talked. I must have scared him off or something. It was the only thing that made sense. My big mouth ruined everything.
    The fantasies that played out in my head about us going to school together, graduating, getting our own place, getting married, should have stayed in my head. It was too much too soon.
* * *
    The assisted living community was nicer than I expected. Lush gardens surrounded the property and a gazebo complete with benches sat in the middle of the lawn. I imagined Mimi sitting there with her canvas, painting and enjoying a nice day.
    Zach came around to help me down, but I was already safely to the ground, so he settled for shutting the door.
    “She was good this morning,” he said over his shoulder as he walked towards the entrance. “I probably should’ve called ahead to see if that changed, but you said yes so easily I didn’t want to give you a chance to run for the hills.”
    “When have you ever known me to run?” As soon as the words left my mouth, something I couldn’t decipher flashed in his eyes. I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other when I realized my statement implied more than I intended.
    Of course I wasn’t known to run. I was the idiot who sat by the phone day after day waiting for his call. Maybe I should take up running. It was probably easier to run from your problems than allow them to consume you.
    “Come on.” Zach placed his hand on my lower back, then just as quickly pulled it away. But I felt the sparks right down to my toes. And from the look on his face, he felt them too.
    We walked in and the woman at the desk waved. “Hi Zach,” she said with a smile, tucking her dark hair behind her ear and giving me a once-over.
    He flashed his most charming smile. “Hi Cheryl. This is . . .” He glanced at me then back to her. “My friend. Liz.”
    Cheryl reached her hand over the desk and I returned the gesture.
    “How was the concert?” he asked.
    “Fantastic. My Becky knocked them dead.”
    “Sounds like she takes after her mom.” Zach winked, and Cheryl grinned. “How was she today?”
    “After you left this morning she went out and got a haircut. I’m sure she talked Lucille’s ear off about you.”
    “That’s good to hear. I’ll catch you later.”
    “You know where to find me.”
    Zach led me down a corridor and around the corner, stopping in front of a door with a seashell wreath. He knocked gently and then eased the door open. Mimi’s artistic touches were spread around her room. Hand-painted ivy wrapped around the door frame, the mirror was lined in shells, picture frames hung on the walls, and a colored glass mosaic table sat just beneath them.
    Zach walked in and knelt in front of Mimi on the couch as I stared at her masterpieces, wondering if her illness would steal that talent away.
    “Mimi, you have a visitor. Do you remember . . .”
    “Oh my goodness, if it isn’t Lizzie Wagner!” Mimi exclaimed. “Look at you. Prettier than ever. Come