I was worn out; physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. It was a rough 6 months…hell it was a rough year.
“Christine, I just heard he died…Oh my God…Oh my God…” she wailed into the phone.
When I realized who it was, I wanted to scream,
“HAVE YOU NO COUTH? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
I wanted to unload on her. I wanted to put her in her place and tell her where to stick it. I wanted to tell her I never wanted to speak to her again.
I said none of that.
“Yes. He died.”
“How? What happened?” she asked through tears.
I gave her the blunt details as I thought about her last call to me a few months prior.
She had called me a few months prior, though I never did find out how she got a hold of my phone number. She was angry. He had hurt her and she wanted to get even. He left her; hooked up with one of her friends and went to Louisiana with her looking for work. I wondered if she was surprised, but I never asked. I knew she was hurting. She offered to help me. The irony of the situation was almost more than I could bare. I declined her “assistance”.
“It was quick Rachel. He didn’t suffer…” I went on to briefly explain what happened.
I gave her the facts. I knew she needed closure.
I hated being put in this position. I hated that she had called me. I hated that I had to be the one to tell her and that she didn’t think twice about calling me. I guess people only know what they know and to a degree, I knew where she was at and I tried to meet her there. It wasn’t easy I can assure you.
I took control of that conversation and ended it as soon as the details were covered. I was not interested in forming a comradery with her.
It was the 2nd phone call from her, but it wasn’t the last. She called me a few weeks later. She wanted to know about a necklace she had given him.
“Yes, I know what you’re referring to. It was given to me with his belongings after he died. He must have liked the necklace; he was wearing it when he died. His blood is on it.”
She gasped. I gave more than I should’ve and I knew it. I predicted her next words and I knew my response before I uttered them.
“Can I have it back?”
“No, I’m sorry, you cannot.”
She got angry with me. She told me she had his wetsuit and all his dive equipment. She threatened to sell it with justification of how much he ‘owed’ her.
“Rachel, you do whatever you need to do because in the end, we all do, don’t we? I’m not giving you the necklace and you can sell his equipment if it brings you a dollar and makes you feel better. That choice is yours.”
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