my girls again, but I know they have to work tomorrow, so I wish them a safe trip back home and we all hug then go our separate ways again. I get back in my car and feel Harley’s dog tags between my fingers for a moment. Then I plant a soft kiss on them and head home.
* * * * * * * * *
O nce again, a faint scent of Eternity cologne greets me like an over-excited puppy that’s been cooped up in the house all day. I smile at the sign above the door and carry my clothes up to my bedroom.
When I enter my room, the radio comes on by itself again. “ When a Man Loves a Woman’’ consumes the airwaves and I freeze in place. My body trembles a little, but not as much as before. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me like a warm summer rain for a moment, embracing Harley’s presence.
Looking around my empty house gives me an idea. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my mom, and I don’t have any new stories floating around in my head, so I give her a call.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, hi honey. It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”
“I’m good. I just need to get away from this house for a while. Do you mind if I come visit you and Dan for a bit?” She and Dan recently eloped on a whim, which is so unlike her. But I’m happy for her and I know she probably didn’t want to upset me with her joyous news right after I’d just lost my husband.
“We’d love to have you!” Her voice goes up an octave with those words. I was worried I’d be intruding on her life with Dan, but she’s excited and I’m relieved.
“Okay, I have a few things to do here first but I’ll head out in a couple of hours. I’ll call you when I’m on the way, okay?”
“Sounds good, dear. Drive safe and I can’t wait to see you!”
I hang up and walk upstairs to pack some clothes for the trip. Everywhere I turn, Harley is there. It’s only been a few months and I still haven’t completely accepted that he’s gone. How can I move on when he is everywhere around me?
I take some time to begin the ‘moving on’ process before my trip, since I figure it would be easier to come back to our empty house without his stuff all around reminding me that he’s never coming back for it.
I call Mom back to inform her I will be arriving a little later than planned. I just have a few loose ends to tie up first. I don’t tell her what I’m doing because I know she will offer to come and help. This is something I need to do alone.
I grab some Tupperware tubs out of the garage that were left over from moving and start with his clothes.
I inhale and search for his scent, but it is replaced with a stale closet odor now. My hands slide across each pair of his pants and every single t-shirt I pick up, at a slow, deliberate pace. I fold them all in a neat manner and place them in the plastic bin with great care and hesitation. I sniff and hot tears paint my cheeks again.
I walk toward the bathroom and my heart thumps out a furious pattern as I fill a separate bin with his toiletries. Such simple things—his toothbrush sitting next to mine, his razor hanging on the shower rack, and even his favorite towel. All things I took for granted. I close my eyes and brush the fabric against my cheek. I can still hear the words we spoke during our first fight when we moved into our apartment together.
* * * * * * * * *
S haring a home with Harley was quite an adjustment for me since I hadn’t ever lived with anyone other than my parents and my college pals. But living with a man is completely different than a female roommate. I walked into the bathroom and saw his towel lying in the floor and blasted into him.
“Uggh, Harley, I’ve asked you a thousand times to please pick up your wet towel. It’s disgusting!”
“Just leave it. I’ll get it later,” he said, but his nonchalant tone annoyed me.
“It belongs in the dirty laundry hamper, not the floor. It’s right here.” My